Niagara Falls is one of the most touristic attractions in Canada. Tourist means someone who buys a 200$ tour to see the falls, or who has a car. If not, you are NOTHING, can you hear, NOTHING !
The public bus has the terminal station at Niagara Falls. But it stops on the highway, and the recorded voice says that’s this is the closest stop to go to the main points of interest. We mimic one another, the bus empties and a line of people starts walking in the grass, next to highway. We are like illegal immigrants, our stalker just left us and we are in the middle of nowhere. I wonder how is it during the winter.
Luis, a Columbian joins us. After walking half of km, we get to a cross to a street. There is no sign to tell where to go, but thanks to his GPS, we know that we should take that street. Another 1 km, in a desolated street, abandoned small shops, restaurants.
Finally we get to the light, the Cartoon kitsch of chain commerce: horror house, kitsch tour, big mac, big krak. They succeeded to kill all the small independent one, and now they are shinning.
We pass this petty world and I forget anything when I see the big volume of falling water.
We walk on an overcrowded tight side walk, because there are 4 car lanes, for the drive-in admirers of nature. Maybe one day, they’ll build a bridge which allows cars to get washed from the waterfalls.
There are a lot of signs for Casinos. This is a Russian way of living: either you get rich during one night in a Casino, or you get a basket and let you flow on the descending lake.
We pass to the American side. Even the point view is not so good as the Canadian side, it’s more impressive because they preserved a park. And there are less people. Maybe because Buffalo is much smaller than Toronto, or because it’s too long walk. I was surprised to see so many overweight people.
When we came back to the Canadian border, there was a long waiting line: we had to pass an interview. I wonder, what was thinking this customs officer of someone who comes with a pair of sandals and a camera, who already was in Canada:
‘ I must live in a country which has a big waterfall’
‘I crossed the ocean to jump from the bridge over Niagara, but I couldn’t, now I want to reborn here, in Canada’
‘I love poutine‘ (the most ‘quebecois’ dish)
Cutting the story, waiting more than 30 minutes, we were almost about to miss our bus for Toronto, after 50 minutes walking the to bus terminal. What an excitement to be in the bus, and to pass so close the center, but no stop. And to try to see the bus stop where we had got out.
