I thought I was old enough to watch my first scary movie. Knowing it was a classic, one of those movies everyone just had to see, I thought I would give it a shot.
My mom tried to convince me otherwise. But for some reason I wouldn’t back down. “You’re on your own, kid,” was my mother’s response.
I ended up sleeping in her bed for the next three nights.
As some of you may already know, I was recently in Prince Edward County (PEC). I’m often surprised by how many people don’t even know about this gem of a region. About 3 hours from Ottawa and Montreal, and 2.5 hours from Toronto, Prince Edward County is an absolutely idyllic corner of Ontario.
I am a city girl through and through. But this is country life I can get behind! There is something really special about PEC. It has this sense of place and community that is so prevalent. People are proud to live in the County. And it is palpable. As soon as you cross the bridge to the peninsula, there is instantly a different vibe. It’s a bit like that scene in the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy opens the door to her house after the gale and everything goes from black and white to technicolour.
We always seem to be in a huge flap to get there, but once we do, life immediately slows down. Maybe it’s the beautiful scenery. Maybe it’s the delicious food and wine coming out of the region. Everything seems to taste better there. There are certainly plenty of reasons why people are fleeing their big cities en masse and heading to the County on weekends. Continue reading
I seem to be on a bit of a Spanish kick lately. I’m not sure what it is. Perhaps it is my nostalgic associations with the country. Back in the day, I did an oh-so-cliché third year abroad in Salamanca, a small Spanish town halfway between Madrid and the Spanish border with Portugal. I lived in an apartment inhabited by 6 other international students, who after 5 months of cohabitation became my friends for life. Miguel de Cervantes, the author of the infamous Don Quixote, is rumoured to have studied at the Universidad de Salamanca (it was so long ago, no one knows for sure), where I took Spanish literature courses in classrooms three times older than Canada itself. In a country where businesses close for a siesta for anywhere from 1 to 3 hours in the afternoon, where tapas are a way of life, and where most families don’t even start thinking about dinner before 9 p.m., I spent way too much time stressing out about classes and coursework. If only someone had told me that the marks on year-abroad courses were pass/fail!Continue reading
Let us take a moment of silence to mark the end of a glorious two weeks of vacation. It was a brief staycation, cut short by my employer’s requirement that I actually return to work. Total buzzkill. This time off will be sorely missed. But it’s time to get back to saving the world, one translation at a time [translator’s note: this may be a gross exaggeration].
Though you maybe can’t tell from the title, this is Part 2 of a two-part series on Wining in Nova Scotia. Be sure to read Part 1!
Our first wine-tasting stop in the Annapolis Valley was at a winery that accepts visitors by appointment only and is not even visible from the road. Detailed instructions are necessary since it is totally unmarked. Armed with Google Maps and the directions I received from the winery by email, we still managed to get a bit lost. Continue reading
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