Mother Goose

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away.... well, I guess how far it is depends on how you plan to get to the land of Saskatchewan. It sure is far, far, far away if you drive.

So that was another place we flew to during the summer. Or at least, at the end of summer. We thought hubby was done work for the year and so we took off to see our long lost daughter and maybe do some physical activity around her house.

In the early fall, parents aren't the only ones who fly to the wide open prairies. Flocks of geese do it too. In fact those lovely big fields, freshly harvested, attract many thousands of those winged creatures. Of all the many types of geese in the fields over Saskatchewan, the most amazing to me is the sight of snow geese circling the fields. The flock looks just like a slow moving tornado, a dark grey on the side of the funnel thats facing you. But when the sun hits the birds coming back around, the white of their backs is dazzling. And once landed, you understand where they got their name, as it appears the ground is completely covered in snow.

With all this feathered infestation, those smart prairie people decided not to let a good reason for a party go to waste.  They created Goosefest. Maybe not so much fun for the geese, but the people have a great time.




It starts out with a good old fashioned goose plucking.  Who doesn't like a competitive goose plucking? Certainly not the kids at the base of the stage throwing the loose feathers in the air.  And having a grand old time doing it. I didn't stay around for the potato peeling contest that was next, but did get a peek at the egg dropping. Some man stands about 20 feet up on a scaffold and drops raw eggs down to anyone on the ground foolish enough to try to catch it. I stayed well away from the splatter.




The heavy horse pull was the next night. And yes, it was the horses that were heavy, although with every successful pass, an additional 500 pounds were added to the skid. It didn't take long for the weight being pulled to outweigh the teams doing the pulling. Some pairs were experienced and quietly walked over to be hooked up before digging in and throwing their bulk into the harness. Other teams were matched and flashy, a crowd favourite. But to me the most fun were the eager pairs. The ones that could hardly wait for the pin to drop ito the skid before they were off dragging their load. Many times the pin hadn't yet connected and their load was only the hapless handler at the end of their reins uselessly skidding along on his heels behind them.

They kept the teams waiting their turn on the other side of the drag strip from the crowd. I got to see one man talking to his horse who was so happy for the attention that it would nudge him whenever he stopped. Such an intimate equine moment.




The big party day was Saturday, starting with a long parade complete with marching band. I heard the music, but missed the event due to a previous appointment with the local dump. I preferred to wait until after a hot shower before going downtown to participate in the festivities.



Downtown had bouncy air castles for the kids, food vendors, live bands on stage, and a vintage car show. Although I think the dealership that snuck in that brand new Ford truck in the lineup was cheating. There was also an assortment of shiny motorcyles that had my hubby drooling.

An ethnic food festival that evening gave us all a taste of prepared dishes. Enough food was served to be able to call it dinner. One table served Dill Pickle Soup while the Metis group had bannock and buffalo. Hungarian and Portuguese food sat side by side on our plates with a local crabapple dessert.

Goosefest ended with a dance at the arena, but it started much too late for this old fogie, so we kissed our daughter goodnight as she walked out the door. Judging by how late she came home, it was a good time.

And as they say, they all lived happily ever after.  Except for those poor naked geese. Oh, and the husband who ended up going back to work on our return. Oh well, at least I was happy.

W

Summer Vacation

I know it has been awhile since I've posted a blog. Mea culpa.  I just didn't think anyone would be interested in our 5 month enforced stay in Ontario. This is a time period required by the province to keep us eligible for our  "free" government health care. It is not enough that we pay taxes to them.

But please do not think that we have been idle.  I guess its just not in our nature.  Although the trailer pretty well stayed put the entire summer, hubby and I have been bouncing around the province. And a few other places.

This has not really been a bad thing. It has given us the opportunity to spend good quality time with family and friends.









I sent my dear man to work in the crowded city of Toronto for most of the summer.  I did not exile him there, despite what he thinks. I even alternated spending time with him in the city and having the grandchildren all by myself at the trailer.  On the weeks I stayed with him in a hotel room with maid service, I selflessly shopped while he worked.

And then devotedly lay on the beach with my grandchildren the next week. It was a hard summer for both of us.

But it did have a few bright spots.  We flew down to Phoenix for a wedding, and stayed a week. It was hot and dry and a wonderful change from the wet spring and early summer we had been having in Canada.

 Phoenix has these odd mountain croppings that pop out of the mostly flat terrain. Of course, anything higher than our heads has to be explored. 

So we went up the Cholla Trail. Yes, that is exactly what the trail looks like.                                        Because of the heat, all climbing has to be done at sunrise. Surprisingly, this was very enjoyable.
Maybe because we got to spend the rest of the day in the air conditioned resort or in the pool.  

During our walks we got to see lots of wildlife. Desert hares were everywhere, as were the quail.  I did not make the hike to the very top of the mountain, so hubby had to take a picture to prove that he had finally seen a real roadrunner - one of his favourite characters on Bugs Bunny shows. You might have to look closely, but you can see him standing on the side of the rock.

Back at the trailer park, I enjoyed my more sedate walks by the waterfront, where I could keep tabs on the resident family of swans. Definitely more my style!

And my exhausting days with the younger generation were usually capped off with a campfire.  Why else stay in a park?

At the end of the summer, I can say that "our" hard work paid off. Our assets have increased, although not in our cash reserves like one would expect. Instead we have invested in new living quarters - a cottage, so to speak.  A newer, shorter Airstream to take with us on our travels south this winter.

Rally Around

There’s a certain type of party designed for RVers. It’s called a Rally.  People get together with their rigs and trailers to park in the most inhospitable places, like fields or parking lots, without water hookups and often without electricity. But party they do. Friendships are made or renewed, drinks are imbibed. Organizers will have seminars or discussions on many topics important to life on the road. Food is available if not supplied. There is always some kind of entertainment.  Local tours are optional, and if the rally is big enough there will be vendors selling specialized RV items.

We decided to attend a few.  

Our first experience with this type of get together was a year and a half ago, for the Rose Bowl Parade in Pasadena.  At that time we were parked at the Pomona Fairgrounds on pavement with full services provided (i.e.  electricity, water, and sewer). It was not a large group, less than 30 trailers. It was obviously a destination rally, the destination being the Rose Bowl Parade, and it was costly but well worth it even if just for the preparations involved in seeing the parade.

Having someone with prior knowledge picking out and reserving the best spot along the route to sit, being able to sit in a comfortable bus while in the massive traffic getting to and from the parade, and having people with experience looking after you and your needs in that situation was priceless.

The rally fee also included free tours on each of the five days we were together, including a bus trip to Hollywood and into the Kodak Theatre. We had evening entertainment twice, and all meals supplied. They even gave us a New Year's Eve party. We were herded, and coddled, and catered to. This was a rally “deluxe style”. We haven’t seen, or paid for, the same since.

More recently, we attended a rally exclusive to Airstream owners. We didn’t have far to go as they were setting up in the campgrounds where we spend the shoulder months of the Snowbird camping season. It is a lovely campground in Kingston that has the rare quality of being open and operational all year round, so we can stay there before our pre-selected seasonal site opens up in the spring and after Thanksgiving as well. Since we were already in the campgrounds we just had to relocate from our favourite site with full services and privacy to the “rally field”.  A field, indeed, but at least we were parked on level gravel sites and had water and electricity. No sewer.

 This was not a destination rally, but a business rally. While they did have entertainment on one of the three evenings we were there, they also had committee, executive, and general meetings. Not to say that anyone should have been bored.  Tours of local attractions were planned for an extra fee, and happy hour was always celebrated in either one large group, or more intimate pre-planned groups to encourage social mixing.

But by far the most interesting thing about this rally was seeing the rigs. Who knew that Airstream had not just trailers, but motorhomes, too.  These high brow RVs, called “Land Yachts” aren’t as commonly recognized as the iconic silver trailers. But even among the trailers there were surprises. We got to see our first ever square Airstream. I guess they only built a few of them as the boxed shape just doesn’t pull as well. But the owner was as proud as punch about it, even having his specialized truck license plate read “SQ STREAM”.

Our most recent party trip was down to Syracuse. This rally was put on by the US retail giant Camping World. The entertainment was designed to draw in large crowds, and it succeeded. Star performer Reba McIntire dazzled us on Saturday evening. Other headliners were Wayne Newton and the oldies band The Vogues. The rally planners knew their target audience. Grey was the dominant hair colour and we fit right in.

The organizers did an exceptional job, and it would have gone off without a hitch (excuse the pun) if it wasn’t for the rain. A massive amount of rain. Fields that had been preselected for trailer parking were flooded out. Secondary parking areas became flooded after trailers were settled in. Somehow they managed to arrange emergency weekend parking in shopping mall lots for the final onslaught of partiers. I wouldn’t have minded being in a mall parking lot.  Buses had already been scheduled to run loops between the rally and parking sites, so they merely expanded their routes.

Unfortunately for us, we were directed to park in a field across the highway from the venue. We paid extra to be supplied with electricity, but that was all they offered. Turns out, access to water wasn't a problem. It just wasn't potable. When the deluge started the next day, the field became muddy, and then turned into a lake. Water was up to our bottom step, and with all my shoes, I didn’t have one pair of rainboots. Umbrellas only work on the stuff coming from above. Food could be purchased on site, but the only offerings available were of the greasy fast food variety, so we spelunked back to the trailer for our meal breaks. The evening entertainment was in an outdoor venue, so everyone was grateful that the weather cleared after that one full day of rain.

Despite the glimpse of sunshine, I became very concerned about our four day stay.  Or the end of our stay, to be exact. Trucks driving in and out of our parking area created huge muddy ruts directly in front of us. With trailers parked tightly beside and behind us, the only way to leave on Sunday morning would be right through the mud pit. This might not end well.

We didn’t get much time to worry.  As many as 30 seminars a day were sponsored by the rally, educating us on maintenance, travel, and lifestyles. We decided on the divide and conquer method. For example, hubby attended the course on batteries while I sat in on the navigation one. In between, we could shop in a large building that held around 150 vendors. They sold everything from specialized brooms to satellite systems. Items were demonstrated and samples were offered. Contests and free draws could be entered. It was a very busy place, indeed, as the ribbon of grey hair shuffled its way around the room. I can only imagine the amount of money spent there. We certainly did our share. We came home with stuff to keep hubby busy – roof vents and an antennae to install, and a new water system to play with.

When it was time to go home, the grounds had dried up enough that our valiant truck plowed through the ruts with little trouble, trailer and all. It was quite a few miles before the tires stopped leaving a trail of clods on the road, but we always did like to leave our mark.

Our next rally adventure is of a different kind altogether. A caravan is a rally on the move. We are to start in Delaware and travel with our group down the eastern coast to Georgia. I understand that it’s a slow, leisurely trip down the coast, learning about the history of the area. And that it includes lots of seafood! I sure hope it is a "deluxe style" of rally.

W

Cruel April

We came back to Canada at the end of March, anticipating a warm and early spring – as predicted by our national weather forecaster, the groundhog.



So, while I prepared for our trip home by wearing jeans and sneakers with a jacket handy, hubby boarded wearing shorts and sandals. To be fair, the man did change into long pants during one of our short lay-overs, but the sandals were definitely out of place when we landed in a snowstorm.

I’d love to say that things got better from there.

However, despite eager visits to our trailer in order to prepare her for a move into a campground, the weather gods were not in our favour. For an entire month the temperatures rarely smiled their way up above downright chilly. We removed the snowtires from the truck late in April, not at all confident that we’d seen the last of the snow.

Indeed, two days later we were pelted with cold and icy missiles from the sky. This was not what we had hoped for.

Upon our return to our lovely country, we had researched and then debated the best spot to camp in while waiting for our seasonal site down on the shores of Lake Ontario to become available. We decided on Kingston, as we had enjoyed the year-round campground there before leaving in the fall. A phone reservation was made and another visit to the trailer. After a couple of hours, we were still unable to warm up the inside of the trailer to above double digits. When you have to wear a coat and gloves inside to do the sorting and repacking, your heart just isn’t in it. Hubby started a repair on an outside vent, but was unable to finish it. The caulking was so hard in the tube it could not be pushed out. And probably wouldn’t have adhered to our aluminum shell, anyway.

It was so bad that when it snowed on the day we had reserved to be in Kingston, we called and postponed our arrival. We just couldn’t work up the enthusiasm for the move. Our metal baby was destined to stay under wraps for the time being, and our wings were temporarily clipped.

I suppose it would have been a good time to jump back on a plane or grab a cruise, if we hadn’t just renewed our provincial health card after a 2 year hiatus. They really expect you to stick around for a few months just to prove that you live here. So instead, I did what any smart woman would do after spending two years glued to the side of her husband: I had the opportunity to send him away to earn some money, and I grabbed it. It’s a win-win situation. I get some time to myself, and I’ll have extra money to spend. What’s not to like? In fact, if I can keep him working for the entire summer season, so much the better. Fall will follow eventually and our travel plans will pick back up.

Summer is four months long, so maybe by then I will have had enough “me” time to look forward to our California dreaming next winter.

W

A Philippine Retrospective

We have returned to Canada. The last four months in the Philippines have been a great adventure, with perfect weather, amazing history and geography lessons, and blissful beach days. We appreciated the luxury of living large on a small pension, and eating field-fresh fruit and vegetables and freshly caught seafoods every single day.

That being said, now that we are home, there is so much in Canada that we missed, took for granted and are grateful to return to. Such as:

Good roads. Even with construction, our roads are navigable here in North America. In the Philippines, the roads are only decent where some politician took an interest in finishing the project. In Manila and most of its surrounding area, the roads are fine. In small communities, well outside the vision of authority in many cases, roads are constructed in fits and starts. You could find one kilometer of good cement road, followed by 2 or 3 of rocks and potholes, and then another section of cement. We have seen some sections almost joined, but they are not at the same height, so some gravel gets left to ease you up the bump. It seems that each section was built by its own construction group: engineer, labourers, and the politician with the money who always pays himself first. If there is not any left to finish the job, it doesn’t get done. Which leads me to….

Decent politicians. Corruption is very common there. There are many who are trying to make a change, but at this point there’s a lot of work to be done. Meanwhile, the politicians get richer, and the poor go without services. One would think being a politician would be a plum job in those circumstances, except that their life expectancy, even with bodyguards, can be short.

Environmental programs. Back in the day when there was more land than people, it was not a big issue if the wash water got thrown on the fields and left to drain into the creek. But now that squatter shacks are precariously balanced on stilts over the edge of the river, and houses are built right smack up against each other, just assuming that the land will continue to absorb our debris does not make sense. But nobody takes an interest, as environmental concerns are a low priority in comparison to surviving, or earning a living. And if left to their own, I’ve seen that many people will trash the places they visit, not caring about the legacy they leave for others.  Which leads me to…

Policing. Rules are good, but unless they are enforced, they are useless. It is common to see signs here being totally ignored – vehicles left in front of a no parking sign, garbage left all around a no littering sign. To say nothing of the sounds of acceleration at a “Slow Down – School Zone” sign. Pedestrian crossings in cities are clearly marked on the streets, but the vehicles do not stop, or even slow down, for people crossing. Foot traffic is left to take its chances with vehicular traffic.

Road Patterns. I’m sure I’ve mentioned the traffic in the Philippines before, maybe once or twice. There seems to be a basic misunderstanding of what the lines drawn on the roads are for. Not only will drivers create an extra line of cars within a lane, but if no one is driving towards them, they assume the opposing lane is free to be used, too. Right of way goes to the one whose bumper can fit in front of the next one.

Safety rules. Maybe we do baby our population in Canada, instead of letting them learn by experience, but it’s nice that someone cares for the dummies, too. Hubby winces every time he sees a small child, helmetless, no windshield or eye protection, sitting in the front on a motorcycle zipping through the traffic.

Sidewalks.  Ones that cars don’t drive or park on, I mean. They have sidewalks in some parts of some towns, although never consistently along one side, and if they don’t have a significant curb, cars and specially motorcycles will use them to go around other cars that are in their way. Unless of course, a tricycle or motorcycle has been parked on it. Walking is extremely hazardous here. Pedestrians are often forced onto the road where they take their life into their hands.

Health Care. ‘nuff said. And dental care – even if it is expensive, I’m glad my parents made me go to the dentist, and that it is a habit I keep today.

Washrooms. Who would have known I’d have put good roads before good washrooms. But I am sooooo grateful for the washrooms in North America. They have toilet seats, usually toilet paper, and they have running water to flush with instead of manually pouring water into them. When I'm in the Philippines, I am happy to see the porcelain, because sometimes even that isn’t provided.

Washing Machines. I have yet to find a Laundromat in the Philippines. Washer women will advertise to do laundry, usually paid by the kilogram of dry weight. Unfortunately, they often don’t have washing machines either. They hand wash in a large basin, often using a piece of 2X4 board to scrub against. Not so good with delicates. Poor hubby had a raw silk shirt that came back shredded. 

Personal Space. Queues are a fact of life, no matter where you go.  There will always be a need to line up for something. But in this region where the right of way goes to the one who is one millimeter closer, personal space is disregarded. If you do not crowd the heels of the person in front, someone in back will assume you are not in the line and will step in front of you, even if you're standing right beside the sign saying: "Line starts here".

All in all, while there are significant differences in expectations, generally dreams and values are the same between the two countries. Talking about time management may get you a puzzled look in the Philippines, but mention family, and everyone is on the same page. While the asian country is less sanitized, and its population less protected, its peoples are hard working and generous to a fault.

A lovely place to visit. Or to stay for the winter.

W

The Ideas of March

Our four month stay in the Philippines is at an end. We have toured the northern half of the country and enjoyed the vistas, the peoples, and yes, even the local transit. We have now relocated to the major city of Manila to prepare for coming home.

But that hasn't stopped our adventures. We got to ride in a manual version of the tricycle, a cab beside a man  madly pedalling his bike to keep ahead of the diesel monsters sharing our road. Well, "sharing" is being generous. They believed it was their road and they would deign to let us use it, until we got in their way. But once we got onto a main road, our pedaller took a short cut by riding in the wrong lane, against traffic, and we got out of their way much faster. Thank goodness.











Manila streets are typical of a city, always busy and noisy, full of people trying to get somewhere by foot or car or bus.

Quite a contrast to the quiet luxury of the hotel, where we will be staying. Twenty-five floors above real life.





So, of course we need more.

We were treated to a trip to Pagsanjan Falls a couple of hours outside of the city. They paddled us up the river in long, narrow boats, similar to canoes but with flat shallow bottoms. The river was fairly fast, and our paddlers strong. They needed to be. The paddling was the easy part. Turns out there are 16 rapids between the launch and the falls. And these Filipinos don't portage. The paddlers jump in and out of the boat pushing and tugging us up narrow channels of fast, rocky rapids. We were told to keep all fingers well inside the vessel as we bounced off rocks and other boats. Suffice to say we got a little wet on the trip up.







Not that it mattered once we arrived at the main attraction. For after we landed, we were escorted to a bamboo raft which was launched out towards the falls. A raft like that can't hold water, and so it will still float when it is pushed under the waterfalls and into the cave behind it. I, however, was like a drowned rat by the time we reached dry land again.



We took a couple of trips around the city to see touristy things. Like Lunetta Park, which we visited during the hottest part of the day, not realizing that it comes to life in the cool evenings. Probably should have guessed from the name. As we were leaving, the food stalls were opening up and the fountains flowing. But we got to see it without the crowds. And we saw Manila Bay, which is deep enough to accommodate the Cunard's Queen Victoria cruise liner in port.






We toured the old walled city of Intramuros that used to hold the entire city in the late 1500's. It is still surrounded by a wall, which itself is now surrounded by a golf course. Which is so much better than allowing houses to crowd up against the outside of the walls.





We looked for a floating restaurant for two days. There used to be one back in the old days, I hear, but we couldn't find a trace of it now. So instead we dropped a bundle on the buffet at the Manila Hotel. You needed a map to navigate the different buffet sections. They had an appetizer table bigger than most other buffets, with not just salads but cheeses, canapes, seafood, pesto, you name it. Then the main meal selections were divided into Greek, Chinese, Italian....  I couldn't try them all.

Enjoying more of city life, we took in a theatre show of "The King and I". No Yul Brynner, but the actors did a fine job of it. I really enjoyed the "play within a play" interpretation of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" done in traditional Siam style. And when we came out, we enjoyed a spectacular fireworks display set to music. Thousands of people were watching this pyrotechnic competition between China and Australia behind the Mall by the Bay. We paid for chairs, and since it started 40 minutes later than the 7pm start time and ended up at 10:30 pm, I'm glad we did. But what an amazing display! We watched until the end, at which point the crush of people inched towards the streets to try to find a way home. The main road was blocked and taxis were turning down fares if they required using a major route.

Oh, the ups and downs of city life. All in one day. Just like us, trying to fit everything that's left into the few days remaining.

W

Volcanic Activity

Our latest “home away from home” has been south of Manila, in the Tagaytay highlands. A lovely hilly area, it often has high winds and it is noticeably cooler than Manila. It is also home to a dormant volcano in the middle of Taal Lake.  It’s curious, because this volcanic crater is on an island in the middle of a large round lake that is also surrounded by tall ridges reminiscent of an extremely large crater. A crater within a crater, so to speak. Nobody admits that there was an original monster volcano that started all this, but as I say, it is curious.

We took the day tour to the island, starting out, as usual, in a tricycle. All the way down the ridge to the lake, the driver zipped along hairpin turns and confidently ignored all the warning signs: “Dangerous Curve”, “Prone to Landslide”, etc. We came to a sliding stop at a boat launch, staggered out and paid the fee for the boat trip. The water trip was much slower. In fact, there were times I suspected transmission issues (do boats have transmissions?) as the driver would rev the motor very high as we were coasting, only to jolt us forward as if the correct gear was found. The two young men driving were joking and tootling the horn as we plowed toward the island.

 Upon arrival, we were guided to the horse fee area. There, they sold us 2 horses (at least, it seemed we paid enough to have bought them) along with a dust mask and set of gloves. They didn’t bother giving us riding lessons, unfortunately. One of us grew up riding, even if it was on a water buffalo, but I had not sat on a moving target like this for more than 40 years.  At least I wasn’t expected to steer. The horse was accompanied by its very own handler who walked beside us until we were past the “speed bumps” – branches laid across the pathway – and then just blithely leaped on behind. The horse was obviously annoyed and kicked up his heels a little, causing me to grab on a little tighter to the saddle horn. My handler was very solicitous, however, and several times asked me if I was okay, to which I replied, “at least I’m still on top”.

 He was informative, too, explaining that hubby’s horse was young so that’s why that lucky guy got to ride alone, with his handler running alongside. I didn’t envy that handler. The dirt trail wound upwards around rocks and along a ridge, but although it was dusty in spots, it wasn’t very steep. When we reached the landing area, I gratefully dismounted, gave my valiant steed a pat, and said, “Thank you, but I think I’ll walk down”.

The whole island is the volcano, with small craters scattered around and on it. We were taken to the largest one, but caught a view of a couple of spots on the hills where steam was rising. The main crater is a fair size, with the lake inside the crater about 1 km across. The water inside is a deep green colour, and high cliffs surround it. High on one side they have set up a shelter, complete with vendors to sell drinks and fruits. It didn’t take us nearly as long as we had expected to get up to the view point and see the sights, and it wasn’t long before we set off for the dusty walk back. I was pleased to see we weren’t the only ones walking, dodging the horses coming up. We got back on our boat and then our tricycle and managed to arrive in the main city in time for our halo-halo lunch.

A place in the highlands known as “Picnic Grove” is very popular, maybe because it was printed as “Picnic Groove” in several flyers we saw and people just misinterpreted the intent. There are places to sit and eat, but if you want a real table you have to pay. It also has horseback rides, a zipline, and a fish spa. 

“Pedicure by fish” goes the sign out front, so of course we couldn’t resist. They washed our feet, then had us sit over large fish aquariums, full of fish about 3 inches in length. The little silver things could see us coming and came up to the top of the water ready for us to lower our toes. They were so eager I guess they don’t get fed much. Immediately they started nibbling on our feet, not with teeth but with the hard cartilage around their mouths so that it definitely felt like a nibble. Or like dozens of nibbles all at once. On sensitive areas like toes and ankles and the bottoms of our feet. It was impossible to restrain a giggle or two, and maybe even a shriek from me, at first. After 10 minutes, we had gotten used to the feeling and then they moved us to a new tank. The new fish were suckers, and when they latched onto your skin, they vibrated all the way up to the surface, then detached and started at the bottom again. An incredible experience to be sure.

We spent two weeks in the area, traveling by bus to visit friends and to look for clean beaches to swim in, and checking out the local restaurants as our resort was little more than a hotel room with no cooking facilities.  As normal, we found good places and bad places. A good one was 2 kilometers downhill from our hotel. The place was called Sonja’s Garden and they have created a beautiful bed and breakfast with restaurant and health spa included. They grow all their vegetables and fruits and bake everything from scratch. They only have a set menu, so as soon as you sit down the food starts arriving at your table. Everything is healthy, including the local lemonade style drink provided. For some reason, they don’t consider wine as healthy. Go figure. Other than that, everything was superb, and keeping with the whole “healthy” theme, hubby and I walked back up the 2 km hill instead of taking local transit. As great as the food was, we figured we were only going there once.

For most of the time that we have been in the area  we have been walking around, looking at the many subdivision and gated communities that merely held cement roads with no homes built yet. The prices they quote for any prospective houses are priced high even by Canadian standards. I guess they expect a population explosion. Maybe even a volcanic one.

W