Buffalo: Day 2

Whoa.

I mean, whoa.

When you're driving with your sweetie towards Niagara Falls, and you see smoke and wonder idly, "Gee, I wonder if there was a fire or something," it's not smoke, you knucklehead, it's mist from the falls.

When people tell you "Eh, don't bother with the American side, the Canadian side is so much bigger," folks, it's still a really big freaking waterfall. We stepped aboard Maid of the Mist to get a closer look.

Whoa. That was sort of the word of the day. The weather, and the light, could not have been more cooperative. After being overcast all morning, the clouds broke a few minutes before we stepped on the boat. There we were, getting progressively soggier, drifting across the choppy waters towards a gorgeous waterfall.

I got lots of pictures of us in our sexy blue ponchos. In this one, I'm pretty sure Patrick is saying, "Dude, what's up with your bandanna?"

Not that Patrick is really the type to say dude.

We spent the whole day at the falls, soaking up the culture and taking our all-inclusive day pass for everything it was worth. We tourist-gawked. We watched the birds. We ate lunch at the Punjabi Hut, because the number one notable thing they don't tell you about Niagara Falls is this: There are more Indian restaurants per block than New Delhi. We like Indian food. It was delicious.

When dinnertime rolled around, we settled in back at the site, amply provisioned with firewood. And beer.

We cooked campfire potatoes, and green bean paninis over the coals. And we drank our beers, and we watched the moon rise.

It was a pretty good little trip.