Shame about the Falls, but give me a glass of Canadian wine any day

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Have a nice day?
Another thing that strikes the first time European visitor across the Atlantic is just how amazing the customer service is. We were expecting this: a plastic smile from a have-a-nice-day automat that you see in the movies. But actually I thought that Canadian version of this was that they really gave the impression that they really cared. It didn't seem plastic at all. I'm sure some of this has something to do with the tipping: 15-20 per cent in restaurants is standard; at bars you leave a dollar a drink. At one bar in Montreal we forgot ourselves and without leaving a penny we ordered a second round of beers. Shame! We were politely but firmly ordered that we'd better pay the pourboire this time or we weren't getting anything!

But just generally Canadians are just so friendly, whether they're English-speaking or French. We got chatting to people everywhere: on trains, cafés, on one occasion even while queuing to get onto a tram (or "streetcar" as they rather poetically call them here). I don't know whether this was because we were so obviously foreign due to our accents and therefore a curiosity; usually locals would open by asking if we were Australians (I think the generic south-east England accent can sound like it comes from down-under to North Americans). I wonder if Canadians get chatting to their fellow Canadians so easily.

One afternoon I was a-shoppin' in the Eaton Centre (yes, they spell it the proper way here too!), taking hungry advantage of the fact that, despite the recent dramatic devaluation of the pound, decent clothes are still about 50 per cent cheaper over here than they are back home.

Probably the most friendly of everyone we met was our taxi driver who picked us up from the station in Ajax each night and drove us back through the suburban wilderness to our show-home each night. A Canadian of Indian (subcontinent) heritage, he was married to a German and was by profession a photographer; only driving a cab to make a bit of extra cash. Articulate and extremely knowledgeable about his native city, he laughed heartily when I told him about our friend from the immigration queue. "Ha! Quite a typical attitude that some of the English-Canadians have I'm afraid! But it won't be like that in Montréal..." His conversation was so lively and engaging that on a couple of occasions as we pulled into the driveway of 56000 Wisteria Drive or whatever and just sat there for another twenty minutes, he swivvled round in the passanger's seat, waxing lyrical about Toronto, Montréal, Canada, Politics, Life... everything really.

Niagara Falls? I'd rather go to Blackpool
Next stop from Canada's largest city was the you've-gotta-do-it 100km drive south and east to what I believe are the world's largest waterfalls (by volume of water). The journey, hugging the shoreline of Lake Ontario on a freeway so wide that it made our own M-ways look like country lanes, was unremarkable - passing the endless sprawl south of Toronto and the industrial town of Hamilton before doing a sharp right and following the lake's south coast through neutral, flat countryside.

This was, however, wine-country, so we veered off the concrete artery and down a two-lane road to explore. Suddenly the countryside improved vastly: bucolic green fields, hedgerows, farms... it was like being in a brighter, bigger version of the English countryside. This part of the country didn't seem as squeeky-clean and Truman Show-esque as Toronto either - the houses were all oldish with scruffy yards and roads (gasp!) had the odd pothole in them! By the side of the road locals hawked their fresh produce; stalls overladen with melons, apples, beans and potatoes. That was a real surprise, but in fact it was a pattern I was to find all over Canada (and particularly in Quebec), was just how fresh, cheap and varied the average selection of fruit and veg was. I regularly saw produce that I've never seen in Europe: orange raspberries, weird types of squash, yellow runner beans... far better than even the poshest farmers' market in the UK, or even your average Parisian greengrocer. And there was me thinking that in North America it was all processed burgers and plastic orange "cheese".

In fact southern Ontario is extremely fertile and grows nearly everything. I never even knew Canada was a wine producer - I'd thought it was too far too cold - but this is the land that the Viking Leif Eriksson (the first European to come to North America, in the 900s) called Vinland - and today produces absolutely tonnes of grapes. The local speciality is the thing called "Icewine"; grapes harvested when it's frosty (or something) produced to make a delicious and not-too-sweet desert wine. And the guy working at the vinyard greeted us in a West Yorkshire accent with an attempted New World lilt. "That's not a Canadian brogue!" I rather unoriginally quipped, and, yes, he did admit to being from the same tiny, rain-sodden North Atlantic rocks as we. "Emigrated out here five years ago! The quality of life's far higher..." he began, and interestingly told us that the Niagara region had become quite a popular destination for British immigrants. Indeed, as we drove towards Niagara Falls, we did see quite a few flagpoles sporting the Maple Leaf and the Union Flag.

Well I can truly say that never have I been to a more famous tourist sight and been so utterly, devestatingly disappointed. Don't get me wrong, the thundering falls are pretty impressive - a whole Great Lake emptying into another is a unique sight. But never have I see more shocking an example of man ruining nature than at Niagara Falls; for right next to the Falls themselves is the most garish, loud, and brutal of "resorts"; a sort of high-octane Blackpool pleasure beach, with blaring arcades, Planet Hollywoods, Ripley's Believe-it-or-Nots, Burger Kings, and Pizza Huts menacingly towering over each other like they were in some kind of psycadelic kids' TV show. There wasn't even that many people about; in fact, it would have been almost better if it was packed, as you'd be able to see slightly less. You could hardly even get a view of the Falls for all the steel and glass skyscraper hotels that had been constructed (no doubt so designed so as many rooms as possible could be sold "Falls view"), along with (and I'm not joking) a kind of mini-CN tower, mushrooming above the brash resort for optimum photo snapping potential.

We did the obligatory boat trip out to view the Falls close up: actually quite a cool experience, if you try to block from your mind what you've just seen on dry land. While H and I were ready just to make the most of Niagara Falls "town" and loose ourselves in the neon arcades and waxwork musei, H's parents declared the place "ghastly" and instantly drove us 40 minutes up the road to a twee little tourist town called Niagara-on-the-Lake, which is apparently Canada's oldest and best preserved colonial town. In my opinion it was unremarkable: the town itself didn't feel old at all as every single building had been so well restored as to make them appear brand new again. It was also blue-rinse central; me and H felt awkward shuffling from antiques shop to antiques shop as we appeared the only people in the county under the age of 70. However its outskirts were surrounded by thousands of massive, plantation-esque mansions obviously owned by the super rich. As we conjectured what it was in the area to have made so much money for people I suggested that perhaps these people were responsible for the sinful "development" round Niagara Falls!

Now I'm probably coming across as a massive snob here, but honestly I've actually got nothing against the kind of developments that surround Niagara Falls. I'm a big fan of Blackpool Pleasure Beach. But the difference is that before the Lancashire themepark was constructed there was nothing in Blackpool save a disgusting muddy beach and the steel-grey Irish Sea. The Pleasure Beach is the only reason to go. Here is one of the wonders of the natural world - people would come from miles around even if there was nothing there but the odd ice-cream van! And if you have to build somewhere for the tourists to go and sleep and eat junk food and visit chain museums why oh why build it all so friggin' close! Apparently there is a now a resort at Uluru (Ayres Rock) in Australia, but it is sighted a respectful 20km from the monolith itself, so that when you do visit up close it is as nature intended. Canada's not exactly short on space - could they not have done the same thing here?

Apparently (we were told by a snooty waitress in ultra-affluent Niagara-on-the-Lake) Canada has very little to do with it all - and the resort was in fact built with - you've guess it - US money. According to her, the Americans are pissed off that it's Canada's side that has the view of the Falls and not the US. So they've built the resort in Canada just to "get 'em back." Didn't sound that plausable to me. But all I know that someone somewhere has made a killing out of Niagara, and in the process completely ruined one of the world's most beautiful sights.

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Photos

The Falls...
...and the city they've built right next to it!

Twee Niagara-on-the-Lake
Blue-rinse central

Suburban Ajax
Don't breathe too loudly anyone

Stunning Ottawa
Canada's totally underrated capital city