Waterfalls and icicles

I went to visit a friend in Niagara falls over the weekend. The best thing about living in Welland is how close it is to the falls; I took a public transit bus there! Somehow, I had set the idea that my friend, who shall be appropriately named Pooboy, should pick me up at the bus terminal. This would make sense if I was actually ending up there. However, the Niagara transit bus goes all the way through town before the final stop at the terminal, I may have passed right by Pooboy’s house for all I know. Midway through the ride, I was already the only one on the bus. The crazy driver dude made sure I was indeed headed for the terminal, then floored it!!

I had the spontaneous idea to jump off the bus when I saw Planet Hollywood and all that downtown hustle. But seeing as how Busman had already built up such a momentum, I let him drive on uninterrupted. Downtown turned into no-town really fast. Bright lights and party city suddenly merged into a narrow road with no street lights and desolate farm land. I was starting to wonder maybe Busman has had a bad day and decided to change things up a bit.

Pooboy was yet to finish dinner, so I walked along the Niagara river until I hit the falls, which turned out to be quite nice. It was my first time seeing the falls in winter, at night and snowing… pretty.

I met up with Pooboy after about 45 minutes of waiting. Turns out, he meant INSIDE Boston Pizza. Whoops, and there I was wandering in circles listening to doctor Fankinstein brag about his haunted shack: “just remember, once you enter, you may never return…” Give me a break…

We met up with Alan, a chem. Eng from Waterloo and headed down to Casino Niagara. It was my first time in a casino and was more or less what I expected. I expected to lose money, and did. Pooboy and Alan did pretty well; Being from the area, they must have been born with some luck them genes. What I found memorable was how loosely people treat their money. Some took out hundreds and just as easily gambled it away. These people don’t look rich either, more like honest working folk. With all that money, they could have some huge rhinestones on their jackets (or maybe not… for fashion’s sake)

Pooboy was a great host and gave me some useful guitar pointers. He’s an established player with a handful of beautiful guitars. He played some sweet Bach on his Fender Stratocaster. I was happy to get back home to my own Fender so I can start on some of that Mozart!! Oh who am I kidding?

*photos to be added later*