An escape to Kingston

We contrived to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with our friends Elva and Laurie. We had told them we'd be flying to Kingston on the Holiday Weekend in the hope they'd come along, and they did. We took the plane through IFR conditions; and they came by car, setting off before breakfast so that they could meet us when we landed and drive us into the town.

Setting off from Rockcliffe we climbed above the lower cloud layer over a "solid undercast" of white cloud, Chris flying on the instruments. Once we had reached our designated altitude, we could see that the sky looked brighter to the south and after about 20 minutes' flying the clouds became thinner and more broken; we started to see the landscape through holes in the thin cloud. On our descent to Kingston, we penetrated some misty, wispy cloud, below which the wind was gusty. 

 

As soon as we were outside the airport we all walked across the field to the shore of Lake Ontario, where waves were breaking in bright sunshine. On the horizon we could see the windfarm on Amherst Island, and there's another on Wolfe Island. 

 

In the afternoon we sailed to the island, having watched the ferry coming and going. At the docks new infrastructure is being installed in anticipation of the larger, all-electric ferries that will replace the old ones next Spring. They come from Romania (arrived in pieces on board a freighter ship) and are being stored for the winter in Picton while their future crews learn how to steer them. On this weekend all kinds of vehicles, carrying canoes, bikes, ladders, took the old Wolfe Island ferry, free of charge to everyone. It must have been particularly low in the water for the return trip, people returning in their vehicles to the mainland after a drive round the island. 

 

To avoid the challenge of finding a restaurant with tables available for a traditional Thanksgiving supper, the four of us ate an Indian meal at Namaste on Ontario Street before wandering back to our respective hotels via the central harbour, under the moon. 

Next morning, another waterside walk and more sitting on benches. We walked past St. George's Cathedral, a fine old building next to a fine old maple tree in its autumn glory. 

On our return flight to Ottawa we had a favourable tailwind of 25 knots, and the views of the coloured landscape were splendid.