Niagara Falls and a Struggle to Remain Calm

Heading back the US from Toronto, there were two sensible routes that we could have taken. One would have taken us north and east, along the north shore of Lake Ontario and into America near Kingston, while the other was to head west to Hamilton on the tip of Lake Ontario, before heading south to the Niagara border. Our next major stop was to be Boston, and whilst both routes would have worked, the southern route passed Niagara Falls, an opportunity I didn't want to miss despite the areas reputation as a tacky tourist nightmare. We therefore headed out of Toronto, backtracking to the west, in the direction of Niagara.

The town of Niagara on the Canadian side of the falls, is a depressing site as you drive through, and parking was predictably expensive, but all of the shortcoming were forgiven when I saw the falls. Niagara is not the tallest waterfall in the world, nor does it have the highest flow rate, but a combination factors combine to make it an astoundingly impressive sight. The unbroken curtain of turbulent water running over the wide crescent on the Canadian side of the falls is an amazing site, and we spent a long time staring in amazement at the view, which is relatively unspoiled by the development nearby. The Canadian planners had the foresight to retain a green boundary between the falls and the sprawl of hotels and attractions nearby, and so standing on the edge of the canyon, there are few distractions to detract from the view.

In a rather different way the adjacent town is quite a spectacle, like an Americanised version of Blackpool. Walking around the town I found it difficult to image what kind of person would come to a place as beautiful as Niagara Falls, and chose to spend the day in the dinosaur themed crazy golf, or the House of Frankenstein.

Having got our fill of the view over the falls, we jumped back in the truck, and headed for the adjacent bridge to the non-commercial border crossing. Having had such swift border crossings and customs dealings in Orlando, Brunswick, McAllen, Nogales and Detroit, it had never occurred to me that the crossing into the US at Niagara would be any different, particularly in light of the huge numbers of tourists that must cross there each day. The crossing started normally, with the polite lady in the booth asking all of the normal questions; after a while she gave us the all clear and directed us into the adjacent build so that Jamie could get his ESTA visa approved; it was at this point that our day started to go pear shaped.

I was not surprised that whilst in the office, I was asked to produce some vehicle documentation, but I was taken aback at the aggressive and accusatory attitude which I was shown immediately on walking up to the desk. Our paperwork is 100% in order, we have all of the necessary EPA and DOT approvals, we have comprehensive insurance, and we have all of the registration, purchase, and import documents for the truck. Nevertheless, the border guards seemed convinced that we were trying to defraud their country by illegally importing a restricted military vehicle. Even after inspecting the truck, and seeing that it is just a fancy RV, we were still being told that the truck would be impounded and that we would have to find accommodation until they could uncover what shady activity we were engaged in. Few of the guards believed that anyone would be crazy enough to ship their motorhome to the US  for a 12 month holiday, and it took three hours for us to convince them otherwise. I find it difficult to remain calm and composed in situations like this, and it was only Naomi's gentle interruptions that prevented me from doing something I might have regretted.

With the sun having set, and one particularly antagonistic guard still convinced that we were terrorist arms dealers, we were finally allowed to re-enter America. We jumped back into the truck and drove out of the border station, driving quickly enough to clear the gate before they changed their minds.

Despite Wal-Mart parking lots being a popular place for RVers to park on long journeys, we avoid them as much as possible. They are ugly and loud, and if there is any chance of finding a quiet spot in the backcountry to park in, I would always chose it over a parking lot. Nevertheless they are certainly useful in a pinch, and as I hate driving in the dark, we headed straight for the second nearest Wal-Mart to settle down for the night, the nearest being too close the border for comfort. After the stress of trying to stay calm in the face of absurd accusations at the border, it was a joy to settle down with a beer and pile of snacks from a nearby Trader Joe's.

After an undisturbed sleep, we hit the road again, headed for Letchworth State Park, and one of New York State's many beautiful waterfalls.