And now I know what it’s like to live in a car

If you ever wish to know what it’s like to be homeless and live in your car, all you need to do is drive to Niagara Falls from New York for the weekend. Because your liar GPS will tell you the drive is 6h, and you might be thinking it’s a road trip and it could be fun, but what GPS doesn’t know is that humans need to pee, and humans make unnecessary detours, and humans get stuck in traffic. So, F-you GPS for not thinking that through. In the very least, it could have a disclaimer as such: warning, estimated time will apply only in case you’re willing to pee in a container inside your car, while eating a prepackaged sandwich, without losing speed, in fact, you’ll probably be required to break speed limit at some point to arrive at this outrageously, non-realistic time I just estimated for you. Because the actual drive time was about 9h long. On top of that, you eventually end up in Canada, which is not exactly your Cancun, Mexico (its worth).

In case you can’t tell yet, I was the complainer this whole trip. You know that one person that says things out loud that everyone else is thinking. I don’t think my efforts were appreciated.

The Falls were actually nice and impressive. I’ll give you that. Especially when you’re up close, you get to see this huge, rushing body of water and get to feel it’s might, all consuming-force, and a sense of fatality. Because I imagine anything getting trapped in that whirlpool is not getting out alive. However, there is only a limited amount of selfies you can take next to a given wonder of nature. Otherwise, Facebook community can turn on you for being repetitive, and do a sharp decline in likes. I posted only few; I know the ethics of Facebook. Here’s a non-selfie picture for you20150926_121603

 

Afterward, we visited the Ice House Winery where they have a specific way of developing wine. They leave grapes on wines until a given freezing temperature and only then gather and turn them into wine. It was, however, unclear as to why exactly they use this process. I assume that’s just a weird Canadian thing.

 

In summary, you can judge the quality of the trip if the highlight of the day were gummy bears and a ride on a giant Ferris wheal

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Supposedly to make our way back easier, we decided to make a detour stop at Woodstock. This place used to be a historical gathering of hippies in the 60s doing drugs, listening to music, practicing free love and of course promoting the world peace. That now looks like your typical boutique small town, with organic food, hand crafted goods, an occasional Buddha in a storefront window, and middle-aged, white inhabitants with slightly longer than normal hair. I can’t really tell you if the place was nice or what because by that time I was remembering how perfect my apartment looks, with its bed, and Netflex, and non-organic snacks.

So if you ever think of driving to Canada from New York, just don’t.

P.S. I repeat, if you ever think of driving to Canada from New York, don’t.

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