I just returned from two weeks of vacation. Instead of our annual pilgrimage through crowded airports to foreign destinations (read: far too often the US), we kept it local and by car. This enabled us to confine ourselves to the members of our household from the time we left to checking in at the hotel.
We drove about seven hours from our home in Ottawa through Wilno (the first Polish settlement in Canada for the benefit of my husband and kids) and Algonquin Park (a bustling metropolis of campers and trees if you didn’t know!) to arrive in Collingwood by Lake Huron.
From the time we entered the hotel until we reached our room (with fully equipped kitchen), we were masked as per provincial requirements. One member of our household visited the grocery store and brought back food. Any trips to the pool were scheduled and timed to avoid over-capacity.
As much as this was a different kind of vacation, it brought me back to my childhood in many ways. My mother was deathly afraid of heights and flying during her lifetime and – as a result – we were mostly limited to road trips when I was a kid. We had travelled to both coasts in different years and I hope to maybe replicate those vacations someday with my kids. I will divide this subject up a bit and write some more another day.