To think we almost missed this charming little town with its beautiful outlook! For anyone visiting Niagara Falls, once you get your glimpse, ditch the crowds and come up to this amazing town, barely a half hour North. To be honest, we didn’t plan the excursion at all–our lovely host at the Niagara Motor Lodge was the one who told us all about it and after we’d had enough of shoving our way through the crowds on the Canadian side, we decided in a change of plans.
It’s right next to Lake Ontario, and as you’re driving up, prepare to pass about 5 dozen wineries along the way. Not only is this prime wine country, but it’s home of some of the best ice wines in the region. My husband and I stopped at one of the wine shops to do a tasting and we weren’t disappointed–ice wine is lush, sweet brilliance in every drop. And also re-donkulously expensive, so we remained happy with our tasting. Niagara-On-The-Lake is a gorgeous little town littered with unique shops, bakeries, and cafes, and definitely worth a detour.
More from my pale kid adventures in Hawaii! So this day, we took a bus out to Sandy Beach (creative name, eh?) to go see some different beaches than the main one on the Waikiki shoreline. It was about a twenty minute to a half hour bus ride, and sort of just cool to take public trans up to our destination, but the beach was definitely gorgeous. This wasn’t a swimming beach though, and all around were posted signs about not going swimming. Though plenty of folks ignored them to go surfing on the gigantic waves. Luckily for me, I hate swimming and wasn’t deterred. I’m also terrified of deep water. All sorts–I refuse to swim in lakes even, and the ocean just makes things a thousand times worse.
But I do like looking at water, and the volcanic rock at Sandy Beach was well worth the excursion!
For me in particular, it was incredibly important to go to the Dingle Peninsula where Inch Beach is located. Why, you ask? I’m absentminded as get-all, and when I’m hunting for something, or babbling on, the words come out faster than my brain likes to process (mostly because other tabs are open and taking up memory space if you catch my drift). So I have a habit of replacing terms with dingle or doodle. Like, ‘get me that doodle,’ or ‘I want the dingle.’ Funny enough, anyone who’s spent enough time around me usually can interpret and catch the drift. I’ve had my husband and a couple besties pick it up.
So when we heard that there was a Dingle Peninsula in Ireland, naturally we had to go. Alas, we didn’t make it all the way in. Let me explain. We were driving along the roads on the opposite side of our comfort zone in a teensy car and even teensier lanes. And as the cliffs grew higher, what separated us from that breathtaking ledge? Shrubbery. Fucking shrubbery. So we reached a point of white-knuckled steering that grew too much and turned back around. Yes, we’re wusses.
Regardless, Inch Beach rocked. Literally. All sorts of rocks along the beach and I absolutely loved it.