Saturday, 8 August 2015
On being in (a former) prison
The B&B in Oshawa was over decorated with rooms named for Old Testament figures. I was appropriately in the Daniel room. We were told that the other guests were "an elderly couple from Alberta." Mummy was piqued when we saw them at breakfast and they appeared to be no older than she was. ;-)
We rolled down to Lake Ontario to rejoin the Waterfront Trail. Today, it consisted mostly of quiet country roads near the lakeshore. In fact we were mostly on Lakeshore Road.
We had been warned against one bit in Oshawa by a passing local cyclist on a recumbent tricycle hauling a trailer with a few too many flags. His grounds for warning was that it had a very steep climb on a pea gravel trail. We did it anyway and the hill was pretty trivial for us. My theory about him was that he was a zealous recumbent rider. Recumbents aren't good on hills and with a trailer it might have been overly hard. Also, he struck me as a mite odd.
We suffered light rain at times and a tedious donning of rain gear as Pappy's organization of his clobber leaves something to be desired especially as he went with a larger size of rear panniers so he could "find things easily." All very well, but it doesn't fly as there are too many spots and not enough thought in keeping things together. Mummy and I waited with diminishing patience as he searched for his ankle velcro straps. It proved part of the problem was that these were home made from black webbing material. Given that ones incorporating reflective material are frequently given away at the end of bike events and colorful and fun factory-made ones are quite cheap, I can only wonder at what he was thinking. (Note to self: give him a pair of from my surplus stock in Montreal.)
On some of the bike trail sections, I saw no less than three young rabbits. At least, they seemed small, hence young.
We passed a couple of barns with stone foundations that suggested considerable age (viz early to mid 19th century). At one spot, there were gladiolas and hollyhocks growing by the side of the road adding glorious color.
As the roads promised easy navigation, I left the Parents behind after a picnic lunch beside the road in Port Granby. I rode on to Port Hope, a town I had often admired from the train. As it was Saturday, the farmers' market was in swing and I bought a cherry cheesecake tart, before sampling a Chardonnay from a winery near that in Prince Edward County where we will be spending tomorrow night.
I arrived in Cobourg and found the Jail House Inn, formerly the King George Inn and evidently, still very much in transition as some of the signs still refer to the former name. There was some disorganization evident amongst the friendly staff. (The first one I met commented favourably on my legs.) I think this partly due to the place being more heavily a pseudo-British pub/inn with good beer and food (though the only desert available was terrible ice cream.)
The building is in fact a former jail, complete with a limited museum in some of the former basement cells. The displays included a number of Gilles cartoons on the subject of prisons. Another display showed a list of offenders from 1908 or so. It included a relatively large number of listings for vagrancy and simple-mindedness which makes me wonder if it wasn't being used in part by the local society as a form of hostel. The bikes were housed in one of the basement cells.