There seems to be a lot of debate about which side of Niagara Falls is the “better” one, but I’ve only been to one of them, so all I can contribute to the conversation is the fact that the American side is cold in late December. Unsurprising, but a fact nonetheless.
That pun-reference hybrid doesn’t make an awful lot of grammatical sense, but it’s not going anywhere. I’m not “perfect” and I’m not going to bother pretending I am. In all seriousness, there was a lot of mist, but with water falling at 9 metres/second (nope, I didn’t know that off the top of my head) that’s not exactly shocking.
One thing I learned quite quickly on my trip was that layers are my friend. For once, I didn’t prioritise the Aesthetic™ over body heat. That was probably a good thing (and by ‘probably’ I mean ‘definitely’ because BOY HOWDY would I have died of hypothermia or something dumb like that if I’d left my scarf in the car).
I’ve heard it said (I sang that and I pity you if you didn’t) that there’s this thing called the Cave of the Winds, but we walked past the trailer I assume you’re supposed to queue up at for the attraction, and this is what we were met with:
I was amused enough to waddle across the ice to the trailer just to commemorate the moment. As someone whose hair always gets in their face – unless it’s greasy and therefore contained in a bun – I well and truly relate.
We only spent an hour or two at the Falls and my hands were buried deep in my pockets almost the entire time, so once again, I don’t have an abundance of photos to share. I’m glad I managed to fit in a visit even though it was on a cold and dark December night. I like to think it warrants a second trip for the summer vista.
Coming up next: Salem (and miscellaneous).
Sometime within this decade, probably.