I am biking for around two weeks from Boston to Toronto and back with my guitar. Upon my return, an album will be recorded and released to all those who donated to make this trip possible. You can also visit http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/leothelydon/1000-miles-of-music to see how i was able to fund this journey.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Canada. The Land of Data Charges.
So I have some catching up to do. Crossed the boarder at Niagra Falls at around 3pm yesterday and got the crap interrogated out of me because no one could believe someone in their right mind would bike from Boston to Toronto. I crossed the rainbow bridge from the u.s. to canada and stopped half way across to take some pictures of the falls...and after about 10 minutes i had boarder police walking out to me telling me to keep moving. WHOOOPS. Crossing the boarder involves giving the most straightforward and serious responses to questions, something that, after 6 straight days of biking and spending 11 hours a day by myself doing the most repetitious thing ever, i had a problem doing. i don't understand why saying you're going on vacation isnt a good enough excuse to travel. then i started saying its sorta like a vacation but not really because it's more of a physical and mental test of strength, determination, patience, etc. not that i said EXACTLY that, but i was being way too "hey man, no worries, everythings groovy. i'm just on a journey of self-discovery". they don't like that. once that mess subsided, i strolled around the falls for a bit. took some pictures. ate a pretzel. Niagra Falls is like a giant amusment park full of fun houses. i was there once when i was younger, and it was a blast then. now, it seemed like a poor man's las vegas. that makes it sound bad. it really wasn't. it was just bizarre. didnt seem real. that's all i'm trying to say. because i woke up late and got stuck in customs, i knew i wasnt going to reach toronto. i ended up in grimsby, ontario at a super 8 that took me probably an hour to find after some old man walking his dogs tried to explain where it was. went to this bar in the casablanca hotel across the street cause i thought they had food. however, the kitchen closed. so i got a beer, on the house, because the bartender and i started talking and she loved what i was doing. soooo, then i went to Boston Pizza. why is it called Boston Pizza? it has nothing to do with boston. i ate a whole pizza then went home and fell into a food coma.