A vacation in Canada, for me, would not be complete without a visit to Algonquin Park. When I was a lot younger ( 5 or more years ago) I went there several times each Spring, Summer and Fall.
(I never was a Winter person). Then I slept in a tent, carried it, my canoe, a sleeping bag, food, cooking utensils and all of my camera equipment, including a sturdy tri-pod, and inevitably arriving at a portage, I always felt "why do I do this to myself?" But then, when the portage was over, after I had dragged everything 1 to 2km (sometimes a little more), I got this tremendous feeling of accomplishment and I would dip the canoe into the new lake, load all my gear and set out to paddle along this new lake, until I arrived at the new portage....
oh, well, why am I telling you all this? The best times were when I brought a strong friend along who shared the load. There was Andy and John and Eric. And when evening descended and the campfire was dying down, we'd sit at the edge of a promontory with a cup of tea and just a shot of rum to give it some taste and philosophised, solving all the world's problems....
....enough of this...
Now, (for the last five times) I stay at "Arowhon Pines"...
let somebody else make the campfire (in the open fire place of a luxurious cabin), let somebody else cook my meals which would honour any internationally renowned chef and let somebody else, namely pretty young and efficient serving staff bring it in bone china and silver cutlery to my table. ( No more scraping the bottom of a tin plate while sitting on a rough log or a rock for me)
Come to think of it, both ways have their respective charm.
Well, this time was no different: "Algonquin ! here I come !
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