Globe Corner Blogs

I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again: I don’t want you to go here. Last year I told you all the horrible reasons to avoid this tiny Ontario, Canada town; this year, I’ll tell you why I was lying.

The Food: The night we arrived our favorite fruit and vegetable farm stand (where the corn is so sweet and the peaches melt in your mouth) was closed. We were forced to go to the local pub, The Sand Bar. Everyone in the party ordered fish and chips (the two-piecer), a bottle of Blue (Labatt) and gorged themselves like the true Americans we were. I think we gave ourselves away, despite my father’s addition of “eh?” after every statement.

The Calm: Lake Erie was so placid as to look solid our first day on the beach. As placid as I would soon become while floating on a fruit-themed, green inflatable raft. Sure, my fish-belly-white belly would soon be lobster red, but there were none of those black flies that the country is famous for, no jet skiis, no one else on the beach at all really, and no wind.

The Wind: Mid-week brought an abrupt change in weather. Suddenly we could hardly hold towels down on the beach for the wind…but who would want to sit on the beach with waves like that? My boyfriend and I went out into the tempest with intentions to body surf. We caught a few good rides, but most of the time was spent with me cartoonishly screeching, eyes bugging as waves crested behind my boyfriend, two feet above his head.

The Sights: This town is not exactly known for its sight-seeing; most people don’t consider a white-washed foghorn and a breakwater awash in seagull poop sights, but I do. I also love watching the fishing boats bobbing in their docks after a long morning out on the lake. The seagulls still hover over them as if waiting for a meal, and the cormorants duck in and out of the water around them, hunting for fish themselves. The boats are not named with clever yacht-y names, but after loved ones like the Teresa Ann and the Cindy Lou or are named something that recalls their port of call. They are freshly painted and round and happy-looking.

The Stars: Not celebrities; the real ones. The beach is barely lit from the ambient light of “downtown.” Late in the week the sky was cloudless, so after our nightly bottles of Blue, my boyfriend and I headed down the beach. This particular part of the event is rather unpleasant as we bump, stub, splinter, and crash our way over the patio and through the adirondack chairs toward the picnic table by the water. But it is all worth it for the view of the stars, satellites, planets, and even the murky Milky Way above.  Every year I see a shooting star and make a wish. This, one cannot get in Boston.

Read more: Canada, Lake Erie, Ontario, Touring with the Parents, Travel


Llalan specializes in all things Ohio, but has funny stories from all over the US and Canada, plus a few snort-inducing ones from Thailand. And not only does she read books from around the world, she also samples beers in as many languages as possible. Favorite style: the multi-national American Double IPA.

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