Great lake

When I was a map-reading child, I loved the idea, the sound, of a region called 'the Great Lakes'. Why couldn't we refer to California as 'the Wonderful West'?

Now that I actually live here, the Great Lakes often disappoint me, even though I came to understand that 'great' refers to their size, not their aesthetic supremacy (or Superiority). However, last month, en route home from a work trip to Kingston, Ontario, I decided to stop in Prince Edward County, because so many people had told me of its loveliness. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I thought, dubious. I have not been overly impressed by the local landscape. (Well, okay, Niagara Falls deserves its rep.)

I had toted my bike from home all the way to Kingston, 300 km away, on the back of the car, which I now parked in the small town of Picton. After a frugal lunch of tuna salad sandwich in the bookshop cafe, I rode the 15 km to Sandbanks Provincial Park, on the shore of Lake Ontario.

All of it impressed me: the cute town of Picton, the kindness of its bookshop employees (here, hey said, take my map), the rolling agricultural landscape of the county, the judicious sprinkling of art galleries, and finally the widely dramatic sweep of the lake beach at Sandbanks. I sat there listening to the rush of waves for as long as I dared before dusk crept up, and then rode the 15 km back to my car.

It's not the Amazing Pacific, but it will do. Quite nicely in fact.