To answer The Brat's inquiry, I took all of the photos in my blog and that I've posted on Flickr. Thanks for the compliment. I am proud of the photos; I think that they're pretty good, dammit.

For my final full day in Toronto, we drove the rented car out to Kitchener/Waterloo (don't ask my why it's hyphenated, but it is) to give The Stratford Festival a visit. Once again, we hadn't planned ahead, so we didn't have tix to any performances. I was quite interested, though, because Canadian acting dynamo and Trudeau look-alike Colm Feore was credited as playing the lead role in three plays: the title role in Shakespeare's Coriolanus; Fagin in Oliver!; and the title character in Don Juan. I think that he also sewed all the costumes, designed the lighting, and was a barista at intermission. A little show-offy? I think so.

Anyhow, the day started without breakfast. Craig promised that he was going to take me to this awesome German town for a hearty German breakfast. Now that I'm thinking about it, this plan probably involved a beehaus and tankards of ale. Crafty bastard. But his cleverness failed him because he couldn't find either the town or the restaurant. No, we didn't consult a map. Maps are for women. So instead, we circled and backtracked, and then gave up.

Instead, we ended up in St. Jacobs (or Jakobs?) in the Mennonite country. It was a lovely place, and it was very busy. There were fewer brick buildings. That alone probably drew the busloads of tourists.

We stopped at the restaurant and inn on the right side of this photo. Craig was still forgoing his vegetarian diet, and so he had a roast porl sandwich. The thought of roast pork still makes my stomach churn. That's an old, painful story from my youth. It's better to not talk about it.


It was a cool little town full of Mennonite-related nick-nick stores, furniture stores, and quilt stores. Lots of restaurants. There was a candy store with fresh Turkish delight. I really wanted to buy some for a friend, but it wouldn't still be fresh by the time I got it to her.


I bought a few books for myself in a used book/antique store. I could have bought a few more, but I had to consider packing for the plane. I lucked out and found what I think is an incredibly suitable gift for Evil Xine in this town. I do hope she likes it.

Then we drove to Stratford. It is an amazingly picturesque little town busy with pretentious theatre-goers. As per our rule since childhood, Craig coerced me into posing stupidly on a cannon. I chose to ignore the inner voice which usually alerts me to his buffonery. To his credit, though, he orchestrated the moment masterfully. He told me to get up on the cannon, staddle it, and then just before he snapped the photo, he told me to sing for the troops.

That explains the laughter.

I got him back by encouraging him to pose like this with this statue.

He was horrified to find out that it was a War Memorial. I have to admit that I felt a little guilty.

I took many photos around Stratford.











We did manage to get away from the little river that runs through the town. Once again, there were many brick buildings. We unfortunately got there too late in the day. All of the shops were closing, which was weird considering that it was The Stratford Festival. You would think that there would be festival hours.



We were surprised to find out that thatt last building is the town's jail. It all seemed so civil. The parking spaces are written in script (all caps). Not legible, but impressive, I suppose.

As you can see in the photos, it was getting quite dark. It also started to rain. We headed home after this, stopping for a beverage break before turning in for the night. I had to confirm my flight and reservation through Westjet. I have to say that they were so very pleasant at all times. I also had to plan for packing, which turned out to be a bit of a puzzle. I had to borrow a hockey bag from Craig to bring all the new found/purchased junk home in.