The Wheels On The Bus
We felt like we were doing a case study on transport today, leaving Canada and returning to the land of hope and glory.
We were relieved to discover that our plane this morning left from the much smaller Billy Bishop airport, right in the heart of Toronto (on the island in fact) and not the Pearson Airport we had flown in to, which not only felt like it was another city away, it actually was. We found out later it is outside of Toronto in Mississauga. No wonder it took so long to get here! Because the city airport is so close, we did slightly underestimate how long it would take us to get there and how many modes of transport it would take to transport us to the tarmac. We had also forgotten to take into account that pesky luggage we’d be wielding once again.
It was a short walk to the train station (made a lot trickier by our big bags and all the roadwork we had to negotiate along the way!) and then a bus ride from the train to the ferry wharf. Our bus driver fell into the category of most unhelpful Torontonians and when I asked her at which stop we should disembark she said: “listen for the announcement”. I said I would but that I wasn’t sure what I was listening out for. She just kept repeating: “listen for the announcement”. She was like a broken record. In the end, I sat right next to her and said “is this the one?” every time she stopped! I’m sure she was glad to see our backs. We made our way to the ferry wharf and into the airport lounge. The airport is over on the island but there’s an airport lounge on the city side of the lake too. The ferry was standing room only and we braced ourselves for the long journey to the airport….90 seconds! Yep, it only takes 90 seconds to get there! You could swim it.
To get off the ferry, there’s a tunnel set up just like the ones used to get on a plane. It felt weird to be getting off a ferry and emerging in an airport! Billy Bishop is a really cute little airport with planes mostly just going to New York, Boston, Chicago and Montreal. We hadn’t had breakfast but they ushered us over to one end of the airport and told us to enjoy the free food and drinks available. Alright! If you insist? Though they were scrumptious, the chocolate chip shortbread biscuits probably weren’t the most nutritious start to the day, but hey, there was nothing else. What can you do? We made sure we ate a meal’s worth before boarding our Boston-bound propeller plane.
Now this little plane was tossed around on the clouds like a rubber ball. There had been some cancellations that morning already, due to turbulence, but this turbulence was insane! Sam said it felt like we were white water rafting again as the plane plummeted and rose, taking our tummies with it. It was very nice to see dry land once we’d crossed the vast Lake Ontario and we breathed a sigh of relief to have landed safely in Boston! A couple of photos (and some fingerprinting) later and we were away.
The next leg of the journey was by coach and we had a 2 hour ride down to our final destination for the day, Cape Cod. There was a bit of animosity between the conductor and the driver on our coach, which made for an entertaining trip! We noticed how cool the Boston accent is too! When we arrived in Cape Cod, we really had no idea how far away our accommodation was so we made a bee-line for a taxi and told him where we needed to go. He must have had a quiet chuckle to himself and thought ‘suckers!’ because we now know that it was a couple of blocks walk away! He took us- unsuspecting tourist that we are – on a very scenic route, if you know what I mean!
Our accommodation this time was through AirBNB, which is where you stay in someone’s house and they rent their room to you. In theory it sounds like a great idea. You get to meet locals and live like a local. On the internet it looked great. A good location. Close to everything. Pulling up out the front and seeing the sign that read: HARBORSIDE CHIROPRACTIC did have me a little worried about my planning to say the least. The taxi driver was also a bit flummoxed, asking us “are ya sure ya stayin’ at the chiropractor’s?” Of course we weren’t sure. A quick call to the number on the booking sheet confirmed it. The answering machine chirped “you’ve reached Harborside Chiropractic. Please leave a message after the tone.” Hmmm. Our host was supposed to be Bill and on the webpage he’d looked a lot like Harry Connick Jnr. There was a guy standing in the backyard who greeted us with a handshake but he wasn’t Bill, surely? He looked nothing like Harry. Well, it was actually Tony. Apparently Bill had gone to P-Town for the day, (wherever that was) and Tony was staying here too, working on a basement renovation. He was really friendly and had a great Bawstun airx’nt! He showed us to our room – twin beds with floral patchwork quilts and the cutest little windows overlooking the street. Our bathroom is right across the hall and is shared with everyone in the house. There isn’t actually a lock on the door so it’s a bit dodgy. It has a pink bath, pink sink, a carpeted toilet seat (seriously), a faded geisha girl print on the wall and a few missing tiles. To put it mildly, the whole house is in a modicum of disrepair and things are a mess! (apart from our room which is a haven of tidiness – for now anyway). None of the doors shut or open without a good loud shove and thump and the paint is peeling all over the place. To put it bluntly, the place looks like it’s falling apart!
With Bill still ensconced in P-Town (wherever that was) and Tony hard at it with his tools down in the basement, Sam and I took a stroll into town and had a look around. We were a bit peckish since it was now nearly six o’clock and we’d skipped lunch and were still powering along on nothing but our choc chip breakfast. We found a cool, old Italian place, Fazio’s, and had a fun Irish waitress. The food was fantastic! We browsed in a few shops (open until 9!) and then wandered home by the harbour. It looked really pretty but it was dark. We’ll have a much better look around tomorrow.
Returning to our humble abode (literally) we retired to our room, the elusive Bill still missing in action and Tony asking permission to use the shower. The resident cat here, who we now know is named Gloria, has to have the most persistent and loud meow in the business. Sam was half-jokingly plotting her demise!. She was obviously hungry and was climbing all over us trying to get our attention. She meowed relentlessly for the next couple of hours!
It is kind of strange living in the home of a complete stranger. We weren’t too sure whether to go and hang out downstairs in the lounge or whether to make ourselves scarce. I guess we’ll have to play it by ear once we (if we) ever meet Bill! The internet also told us this was non-smoking accommodation but clearly not everyone has read that brief. It smells like a nightclub. I think we’re in for an interesting stay anyway! Who knows, maybe we’ll even make it to P-Town?
