Quincy Bog – Rumney New Hampshire

So after my little Polar Cave adventure I decided I still had a little time to do something more appropriate for an adult, perhaps a good old fashioned hike into the woods? I had noticed signs coming up for “Quincy Bog” and I’m a bit of a sucker at stopping at bogs, mostly because I know that’s just a fancy word for swamp, and only weird people go to swamps. I love weird people, so off I went!

My GPS led me to some church on the corner. I decided to keep driving, glad I did, because the bog was at the very end of a dead end road. There was a little parking for maybe ten or so cars and there was already an adorable old hippie couple getting off their motorcycle. Told you bogs are for weird people. Anyway! I signed the log book, forgot to look at the map or grab a brochure, and then wandered haplessly into the woods, as one does.

Most bog walks are very short for the simple reason that few people appreciate wading through leech infested waters. This bog however was set up really nicely. Instead of one tiny path leading to the water’s edge there was a boardwalk constructed through much of it allowing you to really see this body of water in all its glory and it was beautiful, the most beautiful swamp I have ever seen. I was really digging it until some woman caught up with me and wouldn’t pass me. She was making some sort of clicking noise, I think trying to lure out a woodpecker or something, but it was starting to irritate me. I turned off on the “Point” trail and went up until a fallen tree made me think I should go back the way I came, which I did, by this time having lost the clicking woman.

Along the way I heard hundreds of bullfrogs but wasn’t able to see them. I did spot a family of ducklings and the biggest garter snake I have ever seen in my life. The scenery was spectacular and decorated with the buzzing of dozens of dragon flies. Oddly enough there wasn’t a single mosquito out there. It was a really sweet quiet walk. Eventually it started to get dark and since I didn’t know if this was a loop trail or not I headed back, meeting up with the old hippie couple again which I bantered with a few moments speculating on the stone wall out there. They told me it was probably shorter to keep walking the way I was going but I just felt better going backwards and seeing familiar sights since I had twenty minutes until five PM, which is normally when the forests get dark (and damn do they get DARK!) I looked at the map after getting out of there and I had made it a little past half way… perhaps someday I shall go back and do the rest!

This was a wonderful find. It was a gorgeous easy going walk, a lot of wildlife, not that many people. I would definitely suggest it for those who like more offbeat little trips.

 


 

 

Polar Caves – Rumney New Hampshire

Roadside kitsch at its best

This morning I decided to go out for another adventure and it occurred to me that I have yet to see any caves in New England. I wasn’t even sure if we have any caves but a quick Google search landed me at the Polar Caves in Rumney NH, which is about two hours away. I figured why not? And off I went not having the foggiest idea what to expect.

When I drove up the parking lot was HUGE and pretty empty. I got out of the car, took a quick snap of their glorious wonky polar bears standing above the park’s sign. Oh, this was the kind of roadside kitsch that I live for. Still, the building was very nice, had a HUGE gift shop filled with all sorts of shiny, sparkly, and fluffy things, and the staff there were super sweet. I paid $20 for a ticket and an extra dollar for a little bag of corn to feed the ducks and deer. Who knew a place like this had ducks and deer!

Sure enough as I walk in there’s a line of little aviaries, each housing 2-3 pheasants, and a deer pasture filled with Fallow Deer. Aside them some ducks swam in some murky water. There was a group of Asian tourists already there playing with the deer so I put my corn in my pocket and headed towards the caves, promising myself I’d stop to dole out my treats before leaving.

That’s when things started to get just a smidge strange. Suddenly I found myself overlooking a spiderweb of wooden pathways and stairs climbing up and down in every direction. It was like a real life M C Escher sketch. Total chaos. I had no idea where to go or why. As it turns out it didn’t matter. The vast web in the middle was just some sort of trap for small children. Eventually if you walked to the other side you’d come across the entrance to the “caves.” Mind you, when I thought of the word cave I thought this would be a cavern underground, maybe with a few slimy stalactites and stalagmites. You know… like most cave tours in the US… Instead “cave” in this instance seemed to be a very loose term to describe the various hollows and holes that formed under a giant pile of granite rubble. Some of them had little metal stair cases to get down into and since I am here I might as well go down to see them! That may not have been the brightest idea. I’m 5′ 8″ and maybe 140 or 150 pounds and had a hell of a time not bumping my head and squeezing through. I noticed all the other people here (maybe 10 or 15 in all) were content to watch me be the only foolish one to try. But dammit, I paid my $20, I was going to see it all!

I read online, “bring a jacket because those caves are cold!” Seeing as caves generally are cold I did wear an over shirt, but between the humid heat above ground and the strange physical positions I was putting myself in, I was soon sweating bullets. I mean just soaking wet. Totally drenched. In seconds. Welp, that didn’t go as planned. I used the over shirt to sop up the excess sweat and moved on.

It didn’t take me long to go through the whole park. There’s a few things there that weren’t open yet – a “maple house” (I’d call it a sugar shack) a rock climbing wall, and some precipice you could “gently repel down.” All and all I think this would have been a great place to go if I were seven or so… I don’t honestly suggest anyone my age or childless should go check it out… although that being said I did have a ton of fun feeding the ducks when I got out of the caves. I really miss owning ducks. They’re such funny little creatures. I moved on from them to feed the deer who were basically rabid for corn. WOW. I got covered in soooo much deer drool. And isn’t that what life is all about? I still had fun!


Thumbs Up and Harriskat Trail Loop – Hancock NH

I finally got out on a little adventure today! I had tried to do so last weekend but I ended up driving by a lot of really crowded trail heads and noping my way home, not that there’s anything wrong with popular trails, I have just been in a very introverted mood these past few weeks. I wanted somewhere to go where I could really commune with nature and boy did I find the jackpot today! I found a gorgeous loop trail out in the middle of nowhere that was an introvert’s wet dream. Seriously. Ample parking, an adjoined center, and not a goddamn soul up there even though there were four cars parked there when I drove in.

I was a bit worried this trail was going to be a bit too much. I have been struggling this spring getting my body to comply with my wishes and am disastrously out of shape besides. I did some reading online and it said this trail was 4.9 miles and went to a mountain summit. It was considered “moderate” difficulty but in the reviews there was a family bragging their six year old made it up and back in two and a half hours. Surely, I could beat a six year old, no? I might even cry less. In any event I set out for this challenge.

The trail is located adjacent to the Harris Center which is where parking is provided. It was amazingly well marked. You’d have to be some sort of speshul to wander off it. And at first it’s all very lax and easy going, pretty flat, going the perfect pace for me. This trail allows dogs so I assume it’d be great for that. I was startled right off the bat with the serenity of this place. Usually when I go on these trails I can still hear or see cars going by down below. Not here, the farther into the woods I got the quieter it became until all I could hear were the pitter patter of chipmunks, a few mourning doves beating the tar out of each other, and my own heart beat. It was the sort of blissful silence I was looking for! Serendipity!

The trail starts out very flat and stays that way for quite a while, winding past a little bench area that looks over a lovely little pond that’s just filled to the brim with wee fish. Then it becomes very not flat, so if you’re not in for a bit of a work out from there I say just enjoy the pond and scurry back, otherwise you’re in for a climb. I had to take four breaks going up but I think if I were a normal person I probably could have handled it. When I got to the summit I must admit it was…. meh. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the trail itself! And I somehow walked past the second summit without even seeing it, so there was that…

Still, this was everything I wanted out of today. I got to see some tiny wildlife – even some sort of hornet laying eggs in the bark of a tree, I witnessed some sort of territorial dispute between the local dove community (and whoever thinks doves are peaceful creatures are out of their cotton picking minds) and saw an abundance of plant life. In fact I can’t wait to return in the fall when all the trees are colorful! Double points autumn is also mushroom season, triple points there are a bunch of other trails nearby. This was like a little slice of heaven! Highly recommended for the hiker who likes a moderate challenge and few other travelers to bug ’em.(Speaking of bugs this is my one and only complaint – I was nearly sucked dry by mosquitoes on this trail but I suppose… it is the season!)

 

 

 

Hollis Town Forest – Hollis New Hampshire

Today was a gorgeous day for wandering! So I hopped in the car and started to drive randomly in a direction I decided upon earlier. I had no specific destination in mind and was just enjoying rambling down a bunch of rural country roads until I came across a trail head. It turned out being the Bic (or is it Big?) Dickerman Hollis Town Forest. There was enough parking for two cars and luckily I was the only one there so I cuddled up the Prius next to some trees (as Daisy is still in the shop) and off I went!

This trail looks like an old access road and probably was at some point. Now it’s a “multi-purpose” trail that forbids motorized vehicles but seems to be a lovely place to bring your dog or horse. The entire trail seems to be a slight incline which is nice for working up those muscles on your backside! I’m not complaining! I stopped here and there to take photos of the lady slippers that were sprouting up everywhere.  This of course further inspired me to take a few whimsy shots – of the crystal ball, a chalice, and of course a random petrified salt shaker I just happened to have on me (because who doesn’t bring a salt shaker into the woods with them?)

I wish I had a map of the area because this one trail seemed to be the trunk line that a ton of other less road-like trails branched off of. This seems to have been a hiker’s dream. Just so many options! But it was later in the day, I was alone, I decided not to be too brazen and stuck to it without wandering off. And when I got to the end of it I had to start laughing. Someone how I ended up creeping into the back of the Monson Ghost Town which I visited last year! And seeing as I was there anyway I kept on walking up the trail that leads to the Blue Herring nursery. I wasn’t disappointed! Unlike last year the birds were all there, at least five nests, one with large homely looking chicks. I sat for awhile and took some better photos than I got last year, even getting to leave some marbles behind as I forgot last time.

On my way back I rescued a dehydrated tree frog that was smushed to the trail doing a fantastic impression of a dead leaf. I walked him back to water and released him in a stagnant little tributary. He should be good now.. And my good deeds for the day continued when driving home I stopped the car to escort an insanely fast little turtle across the road. He wasn’t joking around, he even hissed at me, which is really weird considering it was a painted turtle and not a snapper. They’re usually quite docile! All and all a great day blundering about!


 

First up the Hollis Town Forest Trail:

 

Next up Monson Ghost Town/herring Nursery:

The Flume Gorge – Lincoln New Hampshire

Between my body not getting the hint it’s go time, and a bunch of issues at home, I have been severely pokey in getting this year’s traveling started, but today I took my first little road trip of the season, and it was goddamn amazing!

I had decided to go to the Flume Gorge in the spring, before the tourist rush and also when all the water from the melting snow is whooshing down the mountains. I asked my mother if she wanted to go and after a bit of convincing she relented. She was sick on Mother’s Day so this was what I had decided to do with her to make up for it. We were slow getting out, getting into the car around 1PM, and then requiring several stops. I typed in the address wrong and after two hours of driving realized I was still forty minutes away. Could we make it in time?? Yes we could! We got there around 4PM, after mother had smuggled a gas station sandwich into the car while I was filling my tank. It was an egg salad sandwich, which you’d think would be a gamble at a gas station… but it was bizarrely great and much needed.

Tickets to the Flume Gorge cost us $16 per adult, unlike most the trails I go on which are in the middle of nowhere and absolutely free. That’s OK, it was well worth it! I guess my mother had been there before, during peak tourist season, and she didn’t remember much of it. This time around, being the spring, we had almost the whole trail to ourselves and it was gorgeous! The water was lively as we walked over numerous bridges to see see different vantage points. There were a few signs along the trail highlighting various features. A good portion of the trail is on a trellis going over the water and in between two rock walls. It makes for a stunning viewpoint, a brisk amount of exercise, and the sound! I can’t tell you how amazing the sound was! As the water rushed by it echoed against the rocks and became louder and louder until you could almost hear nothing else. I felt so alive! And there were a few beautiful waterfalls, one of which sprayed us with a cool and refreshing mist.

I won’t lie, for a first outing this was a bit extreme. It was three hours of driving to get there and much of the trail was steep, either going up hill or up stairs. Still, being as empty as it was we both could take our time and we had a great day. This was one of the most scenic places I have been so far and well worth the visit! The only complaint I have is that my camera hates taking photos in direct sunlight so a good deal of my snaps came out washed out. I still have to learn how to muck with the lighting setting to avoid this in the future. But with that being said I had a fantastic belated Mother’s Day celebration with my #1 mom, who I took a number of adorable photos of but I am fairly certain she’d kill me if I posted them here.

 

Old Woods Trail: Melting Snow Edition Rindge NH

Today Mother Nature decided to bless us with 48 degree weather and a light drizzling rain which did a fantastic job of blanketing the town in dragon’s breath and washing a good deal of snow away. I figured it was the perfect time go out for a little walk, take a few spring snaps, and just enjoy myself. I’ve been cooped up in the house all winter, my health clubbing the crap out of me on the slightest whim, and cabin fever has made me more than a little anxious to return to the woods. So that’s what I did, I took my camera, slung it over my shoulder, and returned to a familiar haunt – The Old Woods Trail in the Betsy Foskett Wildlife Preserve in Rindge NH. Today I hoped to capture the strange and eerie feel it had to it since being clouded in mist.

I had wanted to take a trip out here in the winter, after a good blizzard, but I just didn’t have it in me. It’s just as well. It seems as if snow had been plowed into the entrance, hiding it behind a giant snow bank. That’s never stopped me before and it didn’t stop me today, although if this is a trail you’d like to check out I don’t suggest doing so in the winter. The trail is poorly marked!

I heard the water rushing by before I got that far. All this melting snow had added a liveliness to the pond’s tributaries. And the smell! There’s no fresher scent on this earth than the smell of freshly melting snow. It tickled all my senses and gave me such joy. It appears I was one of only two visitors in the recent past, unless I feel like counting all the dog tracks I found. I think it’s kind of sweet these dogs migrate to a path their owners probably walked them down whenever they escape their own confines. The wildlife was clearly used to their cold weather privacy as I seemed to have accidentally startled a gaggle of Canadian geese who honked loudly and upset a duck on the other side of the pond who quacked back just as angrily.

I was eager today to play with both my cameras, my cute little starter camera – Olympus XZ-1, has a filter on it called “Dramatic” that makes gloomy rainy days like this look spectacular like my trip to the Wachussett Dam in Clinton MA last year. My more professional camera, a Nikkon D5000 had recently found itself a new friend,  an af-s micro nikkor 40mm macro lens. Now I could take fantastically detailed close-ups of interesting mosses, plants, mushrooms, and bugs! In addition to this I have been playing with Black and White photography. I was never one for putting all my eggs in one basket…

I made it maybe halfway down the path before my body decided to slam me. Just because mentally I am ready to be out running for the hills doesn’t mean the rest of me agrees. I begrudgingly headed back home before even reaching the stone wall I was so intent on visiting. Oh well, there will be other rainy days when I will return! For now I am at peace with what I could accomplish. It feels like going home to be back on the trails!


Worcester’s Possibly Salacious “Turtle Boy” Statue

I lived not far from Worcester for a few years and always heard these faint whisperings about the city’s unofficial mascot, something that had caused so much local speculation that it continues to divide the innocent from the cynical. Officially it’s called the Burnside Fountain which is topped with a statue titled Boy and Turtle. Colloquially it is often referred to as just Turtle Boy. It is a piece of art so contentious in its form and so muddled in its creation that it leaves audience both scratching their head and giggling. One of my deepest regrets of moving out of the area was the fact I never found the time to see the inspiration for so many lewd jokes, unsolicited commentary, and less than honorable mentions. When I found myself once again in Worcester helping a friend run errands I knew what I had to do. I had to find Turtle Boy.

I’ve seen photos online but nothing quite brings it home like seeing it in person from all sides. It leaves little to the imagination, which is a bit shocking considering it’s a publicly displayed piece of art adorning the park in downtown Worcester. The more Puritanical residents maintain that it depicts a boy riding a turtle and is supposed to imbibe, “innocence, joy, and rebirth.” Those of us less adept at cognitive dissonance are of the opinion that it depicts a far less savory subject matter. In fact in online forums it’s gotten some notoriety as “The Turtle-Fucking Boy” where one local has gone so far as to call it Worcester’s unofficial monument to bestiality. This is a life-size piece and if you visit it you can look the turtle directly in it’s anguished face. As one internet commenter lamented, “That is not the face of consent.”

While visiting it I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle of my former twelve year self, giggling, and pointing, and yelling. “OH MY GOD!” No matter how you decide to look at it, and what it may or may not depict, you can’t help but wonder whhhhhhy does it even exist?! The story of Turtle Boy is a long one, filled with gaping holes of knowledge, that will leave even the most adept historian deeply unsatisfied. On the other hand, if you’re one for a sideways glance and a bit of dry humor, it could make for an entertaining read so here it goes:

Samuel Burnside was a well known lawyer in the town of Worcester whose family became quite well respected for their humanitarian efforts. After his death his daughter Elizabeth Burnside gave $5,000 to the city to create a drinking fountain in his memory. It was 1905 and the purpose of the fountain was not to satiate the needs of humans but rather to keep local horses and dogs well hydrated on their rounds. The water bowls on the basin are made in two heights for the ease of these beasts of burden. What Elizabeth probably neglected to mention as she was commissioning this work was that it really oughtn’t depict anything particularly racy, in case, God forbid, her father’s memory be forever linked to the carnal lust of one teenage boy for sea turtles…

The fountain was designed by Henry Bacon, the same guy who later went on to make the Lincoln Memorial in Washington DC, but the bronze atop of it was left to Charles Y Harvey who enthusiastically took the job believing it’d be his masterpiece. And that’s where this story takes a delightfully dark New England turn. You see he only got to work on his masterpiece for approximately a week before he claimed to hear voices commanding him to kill himself. Some claim these voices came from the work itself, perhaps even from the traumatized turtle’s defiant beak. And on January 27, 1912 he was found on the banks of the Bronx river having slashed his own throat open with a razor. He did not survive. Sherry Fry was then asked to finish the piece, “According to Harvey’s original design.”And so he did. Or didn’t. It’s really hard to say because I can’t for the life of me envision anyone sculpting a scene of such vibrant turtle rape. Personally my suspicion lays on him – did he in fact create the vision of Charles Y Harvey, which could have been deeply disturbed to begin with, or did he apply some less than proper poetic justice for some other reason? Perhaps he knew Harvey, or the guy the fountain was dedicated to, and wanted to embarrass them after their deaths or maybe he was pulling and elaborate stunt on the city of Worcester. Or maybe it was some sort of inside joke… in the end it doesn’t matter because everyone involved in the project still managed to get the statue set up and displayed to the public but there are more than just a few rumblings to suggest that they too saw what we see today – one such clue is the fact the statue never had a public ceremony when it was installed. Instead they probably put it up in the dark of night and left it there to see what would happen. People may have whispered and muttered but the statue was allowed to stay and in fact started to work its way into local folklore. It even was moved once to a more populous location and was even stolen in 1972 by unknown vandals who later returned it.

It’s an uncomfortable work and an even more confusing story behind it. Perhaps this is why it’s not only dry and out of use it’s also rotting without any plans on restoring it. After one hundred years it still stands, oddly victorious, sending some sort of message to someone… but we’ll likely never what that message was or to whom it was meant for.

And to end my little story here is me – unable to maintain a straight face as I pose with the strangest monument I have yet to see.


A Quick Winter Update and a Reminder Spring is Coming!

So I admit I didn’t get out much this winter but I still have been busy figuring out what to do with spring once it gets here. I have scheduled myself to visit more ruins, castles, haunted places, light houses, quirky one-of-a-kind mom and pop shops, perhaps a few farms, as well as more nature trails and museums. Who knows, I might even indulge in another passion – food! And to add to the excitement I am expanding to my repertoire of photos and writing with my very first video! I am hoping future videos will include interviews with more interesting local personalities, or at least with more subject matter than just me blathering on! ENJOY!

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider donating to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on and sharing my adventures with you!


Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox – Keene Sentinel Theater

Tonight was a bit weird. I know, I haven’t been up to much to post on this blog. Truth be told I’m broke and busy with other things in life (but not unhappy!) Even so I still needed to get out… so I was more than happy to be a seat filler at the local theater when someone else couldn’t attend a show. What show was I seeing? I had no idea and didn’t bother looking it up. I felt it was more fun this way… ended up at the theater an hour early only to find we had an extra ticket after we got there. So I called the only person I knew in Keene… who turned me down… before looking on the streets to see if there was any soul out there looking like they needed a Pay It Forward moment. Alas, everyone was in couples or groups, no single stragglers about. A missed opportunity.

As it turns out I had shown up to see Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox. If you’ve never heard of them don’t feel bad, I was just as lost. I flipped through the theater’s brochure awing at the dinosaur puppets that are apparently coming to town and daydreaming about another gig coming up – Arlo Guthrie. SIGH.

For the past few days I have been blaring obscenely happy music. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, the Squirrel Nut Zippers, and random selections of old favorites like Ducks on the Wall by the Kinks. You know – obnoxiously off-the-wall deliriously joyful or just blatantly bizarre songs. Maybe I was doing this in an unconscious effort to prepare myself for tonight.

Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox is apparently a swing (?) band that has a number of singers performing modern songs to the backdrop of… the 1920’s! Yep, can’t say I was expecting that… but you know how I have a soft spot in my heart for anything so totally random.

The thing is I haven’t paid any attention to modern music since about five years before my birth. I will always be a die hard Summer of Love hippie when it comes right  down to it. Being such I never listened to modern music as it was coming off the radio, at least not intentionally. Only in the past year have I gotten around to listening to and enjoying a few random tidbits from the 90’s. Suffice to say because of this quirk I didn’t recognize almost any of their renditions. I could figure out the first – Call Me Maybe and the last, All About the Bass only because I hear them at the grocery store when I am shopping. One of the middle songs was Creep, probably the only song I actually knew… and it was sung by a brassy bluesy woman who belted it out in a most unusual fashion. Did it still creep me out? A little less. I must admit.

The ensemble was wildly enthusiastic, accompanied by an assortment of unlikely instruments, (though not enough brass, if  I am to offer the smallest of critiques.) The singers were quite good at hitting those sultry depression-era chords and there was even an ecstatic tap dancer doing the Charleston through much of it. This left the entire theater in a positively vibrant glow of joyful energy… and I think I saw Dick Tracy!! He was dressed in a full on zoot suit, feathered hat to match, shuffling about with a cane in the front row. I think he was about 180 years old but absolutely darling. How long was that stunning outfit in his closet?! Was he waiting for this music to come back around?! BLESS. Just fucking bless! I love people like that. Seeing them just be themselves gives me faith in humanity… and since we’re talking about some guy who was clearly pimped out to the max I feel it’s appropriate to mention what I learned tonight from my dictionary. Jukebox originated from a bastardization of Juke House – apparently what a certain French tainted dialect of the deep south called a brothel at the time. And now you know!

Anyway, had a great time. The theater is also currently playing Loving Vincent so don’t miss it if you haven’t already gone! Peace, love, and music, everyone! I’m leaving a video here, though is not the singer who serenaded us tonight, I figured it didn’t matter that much. Enjoy it anyway!

 

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I may continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


Toronto Canada – A Letter to a Friend

Tonight’s entry is a little strange but it was too funny not to share. I stumbled across an old letter, dated May 8, 2014 where I tell a certain dirty joke loving friend all about my travels through Canada. It’s a little salacious but had me in stitches. Even funnier still I don’t remember a damn thing I wrote about now!

May 5, 2014

Dear Betty,

How’s it going? I’m in Montreal at the moment, scribbling on a hotel pad because that’s how much I cared about getting proper stationary. Well, not really, it’s just who has time to shop for stationary when carousing through Toronto and then onto Montreal? No one, that’s who.

This has been a very betty-friendly trip. Toronto had a condom store wedged between a record shop and a pot shop. If that wasn’t bad enough a shop down the street had a skeleton with wings and an impressive spring-loaded cock hanging from their ceiling. I trust I have sent a photo.

Now that I am in Montreal I have found it to be mostly sex shops, weird graffiti, and strip clubs. Some of these combined to make even more uncomfortable establishments. Had to stop and gawk at one such window where a lovely display of dildos were being tended to by two rubber hands. It’s such a shame that hand from the Adam’s Family had to resort to prostitution. That’s fucked up.

I’m staying here! *arrow points to hotel’s signature at the bottom of the pad* It looks nice – has a shoe buffer and a trouser press from the 1970’s in the room. And they do not talk to the garage they use for customers. AWKWARD!

In Toronto I was approached by three teenagers dressed for the apocalypse. They asked for spare change, saying their family had been kidnapped by Ninjas and they needed karate classes to get them back. Their humor was rewarded with a dollar. I am unsure if beggars in Montreal are as….interesting… as they don’t speak English. This little language barrier has been a source of much frustration, but I suppose!

I spent a great deal of time shoe shopping because the $5 canvas shoes I was wearing were covered in chicken shit and apparently not appropriate for public usage. The shoes in Toronto were outrageously priced – $100-200 a pair, threads already dangling off them, subpar rubber making up their heals. I found a pair of half-ass hot pink galoshes for $160! I’m like, “Dude, I can get rubber boots at Tractor Supply that will last more than one outing and spray paint them pink for less than twenty bucks…” After MANY shoe stores (including Canada’s largest with a whopping fifty pair) I finally found a Pay Less and bought a nice simple pair of dress shoes on sale, with a coupon, for less than $10. Win. Granted $10 is the opposite extreme.

I’m on the 24th floor of the hotel. Under the window is a park. Oh, how disturbed I was to see thirty people sprawled out on the ground like they’d been stepped on by Godzilla. Turns out they were sunbathing. Silly Canadians.

Hope all is well!

Typhani

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


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