chronicles continued...
Alright, so there was no answer. But everything else was true to the letter (not sure about the sunset being reflected in my eyes), including the bagpiper. The bagpiper came later on, after I had had a nice walk along the lake. He seemed to be learning to play, because he would stop and read his notes, then play again. He was good, regardless.
The walk would have been a lot of nicer if I didn't have to pull my 'bag on wheels' behind me, and if there wasn't a constant breeze coming from the lake. The weather was nice but the constant wind inevitably made my nose run and my face cold. Apparently, Lake Ontario always has this incessant wind, that sailing races are held here, and they are also planning to install wind turbines to make use of the wind energy. Since I had forgotten to take my camera (rather had mistakenly decided not to take it), I picked up two uneventful rocks as souvenirs of Lake Ontario.
A cab driver picked me up from the park at the shores of Lake Ontario to drive me to the airport. We chatted a bit about the lone bagpiper, and about the windy lake, and how Kingston is a small yet cosy city. He showed me a factory where he used to work a long time ago, which made some sort of special fibres that good carpets are made of so that they don't start to fray. It paid great money, but it got lonely, tiresome, and repetitive. I assured him scientific research was pretty much the same, minus the great pay. On the way, he showed me 3 of the 5 penitentiaries that are within a 20-mile radius within Kingston. One was a federal prison, another provinicial, and another women's. The federal prison had HUGE concrete walls, with barbed wire on the top, and a very prison-like look. Cool and Creepy. What if there was a prison break in all 5 at the same time? Kingston's not a very big city, you know.
Just to backtrack. I had started my previous post as an endeavour to write about some of my very recent travels, namely to Winnipeg and Kingston. They're not necessarily interesting, but I think still worth telling. (you're just missing my weird facial expressions, and flailing arms in the air). Ofcourse, the memory of the bagpipe playing while I walked along the sparkling blue lake took me to a "writing mode". But I'll try not to get into that again, and tell it as it happened. So therefore, no French until end of school (also cuz French takes a longer time to think and write).
The walk would have been a lot of nicer if I didn't have to pull my 'bag on wheels' behind me, and if there wasn't a constant breeze coming from the lake. The weather was nice but the constant wind inevitably made my nose run and my face cold. Apparently, Lake Ontario always has this incessant wind, that sailing races are held here, and they are also planning to install wind turbines to make use of the wind energy. Since I had forgotten to take my camera (rather had mistakenly decided not to take it), I picked up two uneventful rocks as souvenirs of Lake Ontario.
A cab driver picked me up from the park at the shores of Lake Ontario to drive me to the airport. We chatted a bit about the lone bagpiper, and about the windy lake, and how Kingston is a small yet cosy city. He showed me a factory where he used to work a long time ago, which made some sort of special fibres that good carpets are made of so that they don't start to fray. It paid great money, but it got lonely, tiresome, and repetitive. I assured him scientific research was pretty much the same, minus the great pay. On the way, he showed me 3 of the 5 penitentiaries that are within a 20-mile radius within Kingston. One was a federal prison, another provinicial, and another women's. The federal prison had HUGE concrete walls, with barbed wire on the top, and a very prison-like look. Cool and Creepy. What if there was a prison break in all 5 at the same time? Kingston's not a very big city, you know.
Just to backtrack. I had started my previous post as an endeavour to write about some of my very recent travels, namely to Winnipeg and Kingston. They're not necessarily interesting, but I think still worth telling. (you're just missing my weird facial expressions, and flailing arms in the air). Ofcourse, the memory of the bagpipe playing while I walked along the sparkling blue lake took me to a "writing mode". But I'll try not to get into that again, and tell it as it happened. So therefore, no French until end of school (also cuz French takes a longer time to think and write).
posted by Mehreen at 9:53 p.m.
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