The cheapest room I could find in the Buffalo, New York, area, well, not the cheapest as that would also be the sketchiest, so I’ll clarify: the cheapest room in a reasonable area was over in the city of Niagara Falls. For under $100 a night, we were as close to Canada as we could be without paying Canadian rates, where it’s more expensive because it’s safe and clean over there. We were able to have some sense that things weren’t as bad around here and hopefully safer than in Buffalo.

Update: In 2020, the Rodeway Inn we stayed at on Main Street was removed from the face of the Earth; I guess we have a knack for choosing places that are close to being condemned. 

The Why Coffee Shop is probably the cheapest place we’ll ever eat breakfast ever again in our lifetimes. There might have been something on the menu that cost more than $5.00, but the majority of plates were averaging about $3.50; I’m not joking. And no, coffees weren’t $4.99 to make up for the low prices. Then again, it doesn’t appear that anything’s changed since they first opened in 1979.

The third time was the charm; that was how many times we had to try to get on the Maid of the Mist at Niagara Falls. The first time we came here was in the year 2000. It was November, and the season was over. Two years ago, when we arrived in springtime when the Maid of the Mist should have already been running, there was still ice on the river and on the falls that was delaying opening day – and our schedule didn’t allow us to hang out until things cleared. So, nearly a decade after our first attempt, we are on the river, about to see the falls from a whole new perspective.

Still early in the day, we are under a thick gray cloud layer that is supposed to give way to a beautiful blue sky, just not yet. We are on the first boat of the day, going out to meet the crashing falls. As a youngster, I was not able to appreciate this as much as I am today. Watching the churning waters, feeling the stinging mist being shot off the rocks as the water from above plummets 183 feet (55.8m), and the deafening roar makes for a ride equal to the best rollercoaster.

I only wish I had been better prepared for the amount of water that is everywhere. I thought being downstairs on the boat would offer us at least some protection so I could snap off a few photos, but that was not going to happen as there’s no such thing as “dry” down at the foot of the falls. From the smiles, you can tell that this was super fun.

Wouldn’t you know it, we start to leave for Canada, and the skies start to clear. Maybe the depression that is Buffalo also attracts the bad weather.

I think I’ve written this elsewhere, but the city of my birth has been in decline since before I was born, which is tragic as it was at one time an economically and culturally successful city, but there’s nothing like racism, intolerance, and lack of imagination to destroy the things that once were an example to a country. Enough said.

After the thrill ride on the Maid of the Mist, we walked over the Rainbow Bridge to Canada for a better view of the Horseshoe Falls.

Our timed ticket for Journey Behind The Falls and The Cave of Winds was more than an hour away, so why not eat first?

And in an instant, the sun comes out to warm our faces…

…before helping all the flowers bloom just for us because that’s the way life is in Canada.

Time to eat, and then we head down there.

After lunch at Elements on the Falls, we got in line to await our turn, going down the elevator with rain ponchos in hand.

Standing in the Cave of Winds, we watched subtly shifting patterns of changing brightness and shadow depending on the volume of water and its vertical depth directly in front of us fall from above and, in an instant, be gone and simultaneously replaced by the ever-flowing, roaring waters that mesmerizes us into not wanting to give way for another visitor to have their chance to gaze into this moment of amazement.

Outside, we are standing next to the foot of the falls that tower overhead, dropping tons of water not far from our very heads.

Yep, we were that close.

I can easily say that I believe I’ll never see a scowl on my mother-in-law’s face as the adventures of the three of us have filled her with eternal happiness.

Spilling out of Lake Erie, the waters now known as Niagara River will flow onwards to Lake Ontario prior to becoming the St. Lawerence River, only to drain into the Atlantic Ocean up around Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.

All the Canadians apologized and moved out of view when they realized we were taking a selfie; the rest of the people behind us were obviously not Canadians.

Back above the falls, the sky is now clear with the sun and mist in the air, delivering rainbows that flash into existence and fade, adding icing to the cake we are enjoying today. Jaded we are not; our sense of wonderment is alive, healthy, giddy even.

Time to leave Canada and Niagara Falls – for the moment.

South of Niagara Falls is Grand Island on the Niagara River and on Grand Island is Beaver Park. It is here on this Memorial Day that we meet up with my Aunt Lillian and her son, my cousin, Brian Marynowski. Lillian was named after her grandmother, Luba, who I mentioned in yesterday’s post.

Brian’s kids, Jonathan and Jacob, were at the park, too, but we hardly saw them since they were busy playing. It was already late in the day, and after their traditional day-long picnic with friends and family, it was nearly time to wrap things up as we were arriving.

Leaving the park, we drove to Eggertsville where my aunt Lillian lives in the same house she grew up with my father and my grandparents. It’s difficult to catch up with just a few hours to visit, but we had a great time bringing my mother-in-law into a short version of my family history, and she enjoyed meeting my aunt and cousin.

A few photos ago, I wrote that we had to leave Niagara Falls – for the moment. Well, I knew that after our family get-together Caroline, Jutta, and I were going back to the falls for a night-time view.

And it just so happened that on Sundays and Fridays, there are firework shows at the Falls, and since this is Sunday it really is our lucky day (or, rather, night).

Not bringing my tripod with me limited the opportunity to take proper fireworks or waterfall photos, but I did manage to get this halfway decent photo of the falls before calling it a night.

Standing over Hell’s Half Acre, the rapids just upstream of the American Falls, between Luna and Goat Islands.