So...we bravely set off in the early hours of Sunday morning thundering towards our next adventure. We stopped at Murphy's farm and were given a tour of a century old apple orchard and fruit farm with a beautiful decaying manor house and barn. Here runaway slaves were hidden from the authorities on the underground railroad. A lady in period costume led us down to the creek/crick in which the escaping slaves waded on their journey to freedom in Canada. Just as the kids eyes began to glaze over at the long historical lecture our guide let slip earnestly that she was a ghost hunter. Sudden interest swept through the ranks and Darrel asked her if his inimitable way what ghosts looked like to which she replied: "Just like you, just dead" so now you know! A ghostly silence...
The tables groaned under the weight of fresh produce, salads, meat, cheese and rolls placed before our hungry mob and was quickly devoured before we continued toward our appointment with sogginess. We visited two significant places: "the cave of winds" and "the maid of the mist". The cave of winds meant walking though a hurricane of wetness with a plastic wind breaker between us and the elements. The elements won! Without exception we came back soaked to the skin yet exhilarated by the adrenalin rush of 400 tons of water per cubic metre per second pummeling down on us. Part of the deal was a set of very stylish foam sandals which would no doubt double as flotation devices should we be washed overboard. We boarded the maid of the mist in an already slightly sodden state and were thoroughly saturated by the time we returned. The falls were beyond description. Powerful, majestic, awe-inspiring are some of the inadequate descriptions that spring to mind.
The journey back was one of silence as exhausted bodies sprawled around the bus and we retired to our beds late at night.
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