Trip stories continued:
While we were in New York we decided to see Niagra Falls. As you will see by the following story, a combination of several rare events combined to make it a magical experience. It all started when we bought tickets to ride The Maid of the Mist. This is a boat that takes you on a ride to see the famous horseshoe falls from the perspective of the water. The ticket lines were very long, except miraculously the one on the end where no one was standing. We went to the window. "Are you open?" we asked. "Yes," she responded. We bought tickets. Magic number one. (I know, you're blown away.) Next you have to stand in a line that gives you this view:
(See that "mist" that resembles smoke rising above my head to the right?? The boat plunges you right into the heart of that)
Next you must plastic wrap yourself in case the Mist People people decide they'd like an offering (they like their offerings pre-packaged). Yes, these suits make you want to smile funny. (Except my mother in law, who always looks beautiful).
The next magical miracle happened when we became first in line for the next boat. This meant we got to choose where we wanted to stand for our ride into the mist. Of course we chose the front so we could reenact the Kate Winslet/Leonardo DeCaprio scene from Titanic. And look what was waiting for us, etched by delinquents into the metal bow of the boat:
Yes, those are mine (my??) and my husband's initials. So. Romantic.
I just knew this ride was going to be what dreams are made of. The boat started its engines. We drove by the American Falls: beautiful. Then we kept going. "Wow, that's a lot of "mist" up ahead," I told my husband as we crept toward a cloud of whiteness. And then we were inside of it, supposedly to get a better view of the famous falls.
"I should've brought my sunglasses," my husband yelled over the roaring falls. "I can't see a thing."
I, wiping my sunglasses with my wet hands as water drips inside my plastic wrap and down my neck, responded, "I should take off my sunglasses, I can't see a thing."
"How do they film movies here?" he asked.
"Green screen or movie set, I'm guessing."
The guy next to us, interrupting our romantic moment, leaned in and yelled, "I can't see anything."
"It's mist! Very, very wet mist," I answered back.
Guy on the other side, leaned in. "Can you take our picture?"
"I thought we were alone here," I said as my husband snaps a shot of the guy with his family surrounded by smokey mist.
"Do you want a picture," the guy asked back.
"Let's wait until we're out of the mist," my husband said.
I never knew mist was so wet. I always thought of it as a gentle cloud. Except as we exited the boat I noted that no one seemed as wet as us. I'm now waiting for my magical mist powers to present themselves. With that much Niagra Falls on me, I'm sure something good seeped into my system.