Toronto pt. 3 - Only (Niagara) falls and (Border Police) forces...

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Wednesday, July 14th
In the vein of continuing to bust our budget today we booked onto a Niagara tour. The day started badly with our transfer claiming he was 'outside your building' when he wasn't. Why do they do that? He got there half an hour late. We took a large bus to Niagara which was a couple of hours away. As we arrived, my God was it touristy. Niagara can be seen from the road and thousands were gathered with their cameras. Our tour included the little boat trip so we joined the queue for that, lucky enough to get right through.

Just before the boat we were handed bright blue plastic ponchos, miles too big for anyone un-American. We must have looked like Asians in a European (blueberry) condom. The boat was rammed but had room enough to see. It was difficult to take photos since the lens of our cameras kept getting soaked and the boat was a-rocking, but not for the bumper sticker reason. Whilst impressive Niagara does not come close to Iguacu for just sheer awe. Perhaps because Iguacu is in the middle of a National Park where butterflies perch on your arms surrounded by nature, perhaps because Niagara has a Ripley's Believe It Or Not. Either way...meh.

Since we'd paid for the day which Niagara is not (Iguacu was a full 2) we headed to a little village which seemed to have retained a yesteryear feel to it. 5 English Indian girls had joined the bus on some deal they struck to do the tour over 2 days. Only they wanted to be home by 4.30 and our trip finished at 6. Not to stereotype but cue the classic daddy's girl mentality these lot had, p*ss*ng and moaning the whole way to the village. The cheeky s*ds tried to bribe our tour guide to go early. What kind of superiority complex would think that would work? They had to get an expensive cab. Fingers crossed it didn't do a mid-air flip into Niagara river. Back to the town. Quaint would be its best description. There was little to do here except buy expensive cakes or beer so we headed straight to the estate agents. Shocking to see how much you can get for your money here. 5 bed for under 200k. Probably why American houses fall down at the drop of a hat under any slight weather conditions. Looked good though.

The last bit of the tour took in some wine tasting, all good stuff but not enough to put it in our already overloaded bags. Let's just go home.

Thursday, July 15th
The reverse journey of the one we made up here. Same same except we had to go through the US customs, yay. At first it seemed a formality, they even took our passports and told us they would sort it. Then we were summoned to the office.

Outside the office the usual suspects - a Mexican family, a Maltese couple and a woman with unplaceable accent who was panicking. "Why have they called us here?" she asked me. I did little to reassure her. By the time we had been called in last she was in the process of finding out.

But first us. We couldn't get in the country because our ESTA had been recorded as 'departed'. Having tried to reapply and researching we had concluded that an ESTA is multi-trip. We told this to the customs lady.
"Yeah it is" she said. "But this says 'departed'"
"It's a multi-trip" we said.
"I know but someone has departed you" she might have been getting frustrated.
HOW THE F**K CAN YOU HAVE A MULTI-TRIP IF YOU NEVER LEAVE THE COUNTRY?????

America is run by idiots. Fact. It was only $6 to get a new visa.

Onto the elderly woman with implaceable accent (covered my bases on that word). By the time we saw her again she was behind the customs desk and being asked to scan her fingerprints. That's standard here. She protested, forever asking why despite being told it's the rules. When she finally complied it was obvious why.
"Ma'am you have a criminal record" the officer told her.
"No I don't" she replied.
"So you don't remember a conviction for petty theft in 2003?"
"I'm 63 officer, I don't remember everything." Some wry smiles.
"Ma'am you tried to enter the country 2 years ago and we told you the same thing" the officer restarted.
"No you didn't"
"It's not what my records say. You were told then that you needed to go to court to get a visa"
"No I wasn't." She was nothing if not persistent.
The officer did well not to get wound up. He explained again that no entry would be granted.
"But please officer I'm a good person" she started now.
"I'm sure you are ma'am"
"My father was a preacher, he taught me to be good"
"Okay now"
"You ask Bill Clinton. I'm a good person." Some laughs. "I campaigned for Clinton and Obama. You ask them"
Just how she expected them to ask was unclear. The officer maintained his gameplan with the way forward.
"Officer I don't understand. I am a good, law-abiding citizen"
"I'm sorry, but you're not. I have a paper here that shows it." All the customs people burst into laughter. Poor woman. What she stole was less than $500. She would have been put on a return train as ours sidled past the American side of Niagara.

Took bloody ages to get to NY. That meant arriving at night time. New York is not the place to be at night. As we walked to our latest host, the handsome Nick Hart, a husky lady dressed like a witch carrying a suitcase grabbed a man and said:
"Save me. This man just spit in my face." The guy didn't look terrified but not quite sure what he was being dragged into. The 'spitter' was hurling abuse about her and another man and said he would 'f**k them both up'. Bystander was caught in two minds. Leave the woman, clearly a fruit loop, or help her and risk himself. Hopefully he chose the former, we walked briskly away from the outcome.

As we got a slice of pizza down the road an hour later fruit loop reappeared shouting something about "ordering my own coffee now" to which the pizza place replied this wasn't a cafe, it was 10.30pm and what they did have was cold.
"Heat it then" fruit loop demanded. The machine was off.
"Put it in the pizza oven" fruit loop demanded. There was no way the waiter would put a paper cup in a fire oven. She relented.
"I want 3 sugars" she again demanded. I felt like spitting in her face now. The coffee came, with sugar.
"Where's my sugar?" she asked.
"I put" the guy replied (not English). The woman flipped.
"I wanted to do it MYSELF!!!" she screamed. By which time the guy had had enough and told her to get out. We cowered in the corner, begging not to be dragged into it by this woman. Then departed for sleep.

Friday, July 16th
Not much for the last day of the first half of our trip. We went to FAO Schwarz and Toys 'R' us in search of souvenirs and then got boozy with Nick and the English contingent at PwC New York. Messy will serve as a fitting description. Let's not get journalistic about this.

Saturday, July 17th
We're going home! Funny, American customs is quicker when you're leaving.

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