Niagara on The Lake... and Beyond!

Niagara Falls is a place of natural, awe inspiring beauty. Looking out into the horseshoe chasm as the waterfall roars over the edge is a breathtaking sight. On the day Jenny and I visited, the falls tossed us the added bonus of a picturesque rainbow! Hundreds of people were there, as I'm sure they are every day, taking pictures and staring in awe of the churning, surging power before them. It truly is an amazing work spun by the hand of God.

And then you turn around... and jutting up to the falls is this gigantic city of hotels, shops, restaurants, and casinos. Call me ignorant, but I had no idea this stuff existed right beside the falls. What was I expecting? I suppose I expected to be surrounded natural grandeur, but you know, souvenir shops and nickle slots are pretty close, right? There was a bit of a disconnect, at least to me, between the fierce and overwhelming force of nature on one side, and the glass and steel empires of man on the other. It was a little jarring.

And because of that... I needed ice cream.

However, I didn't get any. This terrible picture actually took place at the start of our adventure, before the falls, in the little town of Niagara on The Lake. It just provided a nice transition into this part of the story.

Niagara on The Lake is a charming little town, full of beautifully quaint architecture and wonderful little tourist traps. As a tourist, I felt it was my duty to fall into several of them. Again, ice cream comes in handy, as the first thing I want to show you is right behind Jenny. 

Governor's Walk

 Granted, I can't really call this gorgeous building, The Prince of Wales Hotel, a tourist trap, but it did draw me in like a moth to a flame. It actually reminded me of New Orleans from the outside. It's the kind of place where you walk in and immediately regret your decision to wear blue jeans and a jersey peacoat, because you're sure the Queen and a service of High Tea are waiting right around the corner, and well, she really doesn't appreciate sneakers.

 The interior of the hotel is elegant and sumptuous, filled with rich woodwork, beautiful marble and bronze sculptures, and glorious Tiffany style windows. Every inch of it is filled with Victorian luxury.

Tourist.

This building is also there. I don't remember what it is, but I thought it was pretty, and I'm a sucker for old stonework.

 Usually, my photography skills are not so lacking when I decide to document a trip to a foreign land, or well, anywhere, but for some reason, I don't think I really captured the essence of this pretty little patch of Canada. However, this is the best shot that I have of the main drag of Niagara on The Lake.

This clock tower is located on the main street of Niagara on The Lake and commemorates the Canadian dead of WWI. It's known as a Cenotaph which is "A monument erected to honour the dead whose bodies lie elsewhere; especially members of the armed forces who died in battle." Normally, I'd make a joke about 1.21 giagawatts when I see a clock tower, but I'll show a little respect here for the brave Canadians who died on foreign soil long ago.  Thank you to the vets of a friendly nation!

OK, off to see some water!

Here's Brock's Monument. Who was Brock? Well friends, he was a British Guy:

"Major-General Isaac Brock, Commander-in-Chief of British forces in Upper Canada was stationed at Fort George in Newark (now Niagara-on-the-Lake).  He had just returned from a victory over American forces at Detroit.  Now he observed the build-up of troops on the American side of the Niagara River from Buffalo to Youngstown.

On the fateful morning of the battle, Brock raced from Fort George to Queenston.  In a valiant effort to retake the Heights of Queenston, he was fatally wounded while leading his troops into battle.
All seemed lost for the British until General Sheaffe, summoned from Fort George, marched with his men of the 41st Regiment, militia and Native forces and gained the rear of the Heights.  With one line charge the Americans were routed.  This tactical movement ensured a victory for the British and gave the inhabitants of Upper Canada new hope and commitment to the British cause."

Or, in my own version of history, I think he's the guy that insured Canada would always have the cooler side of Niagara Falls.

 I believe that's New York across the way. I was excited to see it, if only at a distance. I've never been to the far Northeastern portion of America, and I hope I get the chance to visit it someday. It looks... just like Canada.

 Here is the Niagara Rapids Whirlpool! It's an unusual little spot in the Niagara river where certain turbulent convergences create this swirling, churning vortex! Check out the science behind here!

 I think this is the same area, just a little removed.

We're not normally this pink. However, if you look past our bubble gum faces, you can see the skycar that travels over the whirlpool rapids. (Top left.) We didn't have time to ride it, but it looked like it was a pretty fun time.

And that's where I'm leaving it, because this post is long enough, and it's almost time for me to jet. Hence, the falls gots to waits. However, next time, it's full tilt to Niagara!

The Big Easy

First of all, let me just say, I'm exhausted. After work, most days, I head to the new casa and paint or clean until around midnight.I usually don't make it to bed until around two in the morning. The weekends, I'm there till three am. This has been going on for weeks now, and honestly, I really need a nap...and I'm not talking about a couple of hours. No, I mean, something of Rip Van Winkle proportions. However, I want to catch up on this stupid blog for my own satisfaction, so, instead of falling asleep on my desk and drooling like a sugar-crashed toddler, I'm going to write about New Orleans...because I went there.

Proof!

(OH! That bit I wrote in my last post about wanting a little extra money to appear in my life, when I checked my mail, I found a bonus, two rebates, and a check for six hundred bucks. However, the six hundred bucks, as it turns out, is an insurance snafu and has to be returned...so let me be a bit more specific: "I really wish a large sum of money that I don't have to return to or share with anyone or give away in any form or fashion would fall into my lap today!")

Anyway, on with the show.

Right, so, at last blogging, I'd left Texas, headed home, and spent a day at the office. I came home after work, repacked my suitcase, and printed out my boarding passes for New Orleans.  I was heading down to NOLA to meet up with Capt. Keith, his wife Florence, and his Marketing Manager at the time. I was going to do a little work, take some pics at the meet and greet, sell shirts, merch, chat it up with fans, but really, for me, it was mostly a pleasure trip to the Big Easy. Can't hate that.

The flight was probably uneventful as, like always, I slept most of the way. After landing, I grabbed my bags, jumped on the shuttle and made my way to my hotel. 

The Pelham Hotel. My room.

Basically, the reason I chose this place was because it was close to the casino, and it was within the required budgeting. Still, it had a certain old N'awlins charm. The ceiling was super tall, the staff was great, and I had an excellent view of the alley dumpster.

Speaking of the casino, that's where the first event was being held, so I headed that way. It was a little early yet and nothing was really happening so I moseyed on over to "A Miracle on Fulton Street."

First it's blue...

Then, it's pink! ...It's a miracle!

Every year, apparently, Fulton Street is decked out in white Christmas trees, sparkling, color-changing lights, shining Fleurs-De-Lis, and a mess of fake snow. I like it. It reminds me of being a child and attending the local 'Festival of Trees,' an event I really wish the city would reinstate. However, I'm not talking about my dysfunctional town right now. Besides, there's still more to Fulton Street...

I'd say this tree is at least thirty feet tall...and each of those ornaments is larger than a basketball.

Be good or Santa will EAT YOU!

Which is the perfect size for GIGANTIC METAL SANTA! Color me crazy, but I bet this is why kids start screaming and crying when Mom puts them on Santa's knee in the mall. Perspective is everything.

Time to head back to Harrah's.

You win again, 'need to blink just as the pic is taken'...you win again.

Everything was set up in the Casino right between the slots and the buffet. Here's Keith with a couple of people that I don't know. There was a pretty big crowd and many autograph cards were signed, shirts sold, and pictures snapped.

Can I be a deckhand?

If I recall, these folks didn't even know anything was happening but the dude was a big fan of the show so he was pretty pumped to meet Keith and get an autograph. That's pretty much what this first event consisted of, meeting...and greeting. After that, there was business to be done with Cat Marine...which didn't concern me. So, I found a place that served up a good alligator po'boy and called it a night.

I spent the next day wandering around the city while Keith and the gang were off on more business calls.

Went down to the Riverwalk...saw this guy...

and his girlfriend.

Sweet Jambalaya! My retinas! 

I went down to the Steamboat Natchez and thought about taking the river cruise, but really that's something I'd rather do when I'm with someone. I did however try to take a pic of myself with it in the background. However, the eye killing brightness of the searing December sun created the above squinty expression.

The steam on top of the boat is coming from the Calliope...which is really cool, but ear-splittingly loud when it hits a really sharp note. I took a few vids of the guy playing, and planned to upload them, but apparently my camera had a different idea, as they are nowhere to be found.

Cafe du Monde? Cafe de MORTE!

Anyway, I was getting hungry so I ambled on down to the Cafe Du Monde for a plate of beignets. I took one bite and nearly choked to death on the powdered sugar. It's quite hard to act as if you're not strangling to death when you're...strangling...to death. After assuring a wide-eyed server and various staring patrons that I was fine, and leaving my plate and my dignity at the table, I headed off to do some more sightseeing.

So here are some sights I saw:

St. Louis Cathedral.

The ceiling.

A stained glass window.

An obligatory artsy shot of candles.

Some of the statuary on the Riverwalk. 

These guys are immigrants. They look really happy to be here in the US. Really...happy. 

 The Holocaust memorial sculpture.

On a more somber note, the park also has a sculpture dedicated to the six million Jews who lost their lives under the terror of the Third Reich. The image changes depending upon the direction which you approach, a technique in 'Kenetic Art.' I believe there are ten images in all. Yaacov Agam is the artist.  

I had lunch at the Court of Two Sisters, a very famous Nola establishment. It was still early, so I think it was actually brunch, but I don't know. A Mimosa in the hand, good food, and a quiet courtyard never hurt anyone.  Then, I did some more wandering...

 The carousel bar at the Hotel Monteleone. The bar itself actually rotates, so if you say, go to the bathroom and come back...as a friend of mine did, you might find that you're sitting in a completely different part of the room. I figure it really messes with the drunks. 

 I ended up at the aquarium, where there are lots of fish...and fish type creatures...like this eel.

And even a few non fish creatures...like these Macaws.

"I'm a big, fat, white alligator and I'm awesome!"

And of course, this guy...the albino alligator. He looks extremely content and not just a little smug.  I took a lot of pictures at the aquarium, but I'm not going to post them all...it'd be like finding Nemo without the humor or heartwarming storyline.

At some point that night, after a taxi ride with a cab driver who thought it'd be fun to 'get lost' and charge me extra (how wrong he turned out to be,) I ended up at the function for the night. The Louisiana Shrimpers Association Fundraiser in Belle Chasse. These were just hard working fishermen and women who had been through some tough times thanks to Katrina...and this was before the oil spill that tried to eat the Gulf. Having Capt. Keith there was really encouraging to them, letting them know that their fellow fishermen supported them. There was camaraderie, beer, shrimp, and some money raised for a struggling industry...so all in all, a good time for those in attendance. 

By the end of the night, we found ourselves on Bourbon Street.  Karaoke was preformed, Hurricanes were consumed, and Mike Fourtner was there. After a round of shenanigans, I said my goodbyes to the gang, hit the hotel, and attempted to catch a little sleep. Come some unholy hour of the morning, I dragged myself out of bed, stumbled onto a plane, and made for home. Thus ended my first trip to the grand old city of New Orleans. 

This blog is too long and poorly written. I apologize to all none of you who actually read this. I promise to sleep more...eventually.