Wednesday morning, we were in much better shape, so got a little more adventurous with breakfast. For me, it was a fabulous vegetarian omelette with goat cheese -- mmm-mmm! Got a final refill of coffee, and took our cups out onto the lawn, where we found some nearly-dry muskoka chairs available. Don started up a conversation with another happily honeymooning couple, who were equally impressed with Sir Sam's -- his one comment was "I keep trying to think up new things I can ask them, because so far nobody's said 'no' to anything!" I don't think he ever did find that "no"-able question -- I know we never did!
Coffee consumed, we decided to head upstairs to change into some hiking gear, and check out the trails. The housekeeping staff were just leaving our room as we arrived -- one of them bubbled "I know we're not supposed to comment on things we see in guests' rooms, privacy you know, but I saw your John Irving book, and I just love him -- is it new?" (yes it was: Last Night in Twisted River) And so began a delightful conversation with a sweet young woman we never saw again. Unfortunately, Don didn't finish his book before we headed for home, or we would have left it for her -- obviously a big Irving fan!
Just as we headed out to the trail, the raindrops started to fall. Oops! Plan B... back to the room for our books, and onto the porch to read and watch the rain fall softly on the... ok, maybe not so softly... ok, now the wind is picking up a little and... ok, now we're getting soaking wet even on the covered porch! Plan C: bring books inside and watch the storm through the windows. And what a storm!!! The clouds rolling over the lake, the lightning exploding overhead, the thunder rumbling so hard it felt like an earthquake. Mother nature at her finest!
All that thinking of a hike had, of course, made us a bit hungry, so we headed into the pub for some lunch. Perusing the menu, I mumbled something about getting a little tired of fish, and my sweetie -- against my protest -- asked our waiter if there was anything non-fishy on the menu for dinner that night? She went in to check with the chef, and he said he'd whip up something special for me (a good thing, too, since that night's menu didn't even have any fish on it, it was all meat!). For lunch, then, I ordered a delicious salad with almonds and apricots and goat cheese and... all sorts of things I forgot to write down, but they were delicious.
Then it was time to prepare for our couple's massage. Upon meeting our second masseuse, I was a little concerned -- she was a small person with a quiet voice and tiny, gentle hands. While delicately starting on my back, she told me to let her know if she was working me too hard -- I answered "I don't think that's possible!"... at which point, all delicacy was set aside. Ahhh... she must have been exhausted by the end of it, because I don't know how she managed to get all that weight and pressure into my muscles from such a small frame. But she did it beautifully. :-) Once again, we both left the treatment room feeling like happy jelly! We wobbled around for a while, drinking lots of water and tea... until we figured it was cocktail hour.
By this point, the rain had stopped, so we took our beer out onto the lawn and watched the world go by. Local cottager Bill Candy was going to be playing on the patio that evening -- I remembered his name from somewhere, but couldn't remember where. When we went in to the bar for a refill, the bartender introduced us to Bill. I didn't recognize him at all, but after a bit of a conversation, we realized he and Don had played together in a festival several years before. He was ready to start playing, so we headed out onto the patio to listen for a while before our dinner reservation -- he was drawing quite the crowd, and our table was eagerly snatched up by a waiting couple when we headed in for our meal.
We headed down to the wine cellar and picked out a lovely pinot noir. As promised, the chef had whipped up something special for me for dinner! My appetizer (from the main menu) was a delicious cambozola and greens salad. Dinner was pasta with roasted vegetables and goat cheese -- so good that, once again, there wasn't anything left on my plate. Stuffed to the gills, I opted for the strawberries for dessert, although some of the more decadent options were very tempting!
The plan for that night had been to pay a night-time visit to the WaterSpa after dinner, as we had been told that the lighting at night was beautiful and romantic. But the combination of the earlier massage, full bellies and tasty beverages left me thinking that I would probably fall asleep and/or sink to the bottom. Instead, we grabbed a couple of diamond-encrusted scotches (we still weren't aware of the price tag) from Margo and brought them up to our room, calling it an early night.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
The morning after the champagne and strawberries the night before...
Tuesday morning. Note to self: the combination of hot jacuzzi and champagne is not a wise one, especially when you have to get up for breakfast the next morning.
But get up we did, slightly miraculously. And breakfast at Sir Sam's Inn is definitely worth the effort! (Yes, Mom, even I ate breakfast!) The buffet table is stocked with various juices, cereals, fruit, breads, muffins, and sweet rolls. Plus you can choose from two or three hot breakfasts -- a different selection each morning. Considering my woozy head, I decided to forego adventure and go with scrambled eggs this time 'round (unfortunately, however, I forgot to mention I prefer my eggs really really really well-done -- my only food disappointment the entire week, although my own fault). And coffee, lots of coffee... and juice, lots of juice.
Breakfast accomplished, we went back to our room to decide which peaceful activity we might try that morning... and quickly fell into comas. Yes, a good brisk nap was in order... and, fortunately did the trick.
Once that frenzy of activity was over, we obviously needed to replenish ourselves with lunch! On to the patio for a wee bite. I opted for a delicious vegetarian pizza on a phyllo pastry... splendid! Don went for a burger that was so delicious, he was about 3/4 finished it before he realized it hadn't been cooked all the way through -- his only food disappointment the entire week, though our waiter said she'd take 1/2 off the bill (which, considering he'd eaten more than half, was a generous offer).
A little bit of wandering, and then it was time for my first massage! We had booked a couple's massage, but one of the women was not able to make it, so we went back-to-back today, instead -- Don ever-so-virtuously going for a workout while I had my appointment. Despite our pre-wedding massages the week before, and another one two weeks previous, this masseuse definitely had her work cut out for her! My back and shoulders were in their typical "crunchy" formations, but she pummelled them into submission and left me feeling like very happy jelly. I was sent forth with an order to drink lots and lots of water (oh, if she only knew!), and said a quick hello to Don in the waiting room.
A little less virtuously, I went to read my book during Don's appointment. :-) But it was a terrific book: "Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage" by Elizabeth Gilbert. Yes, some might question it as appropriate reading material for a honeymoon, but... as I said in my wedding vows, if I'd listened to my brain in the first place, I wouldn't be here in my bliss-filled life with a man I adore. And, as I read more and more of the book, I realized just how incredibly uber-appropriate reading this book was. I'm sure Ms. Gilbert has heard far too many times "it's almost as if you wrote your book about me!" but... holy geez, it was like she'd written the book about me. :-)
For your edification:
1) almost-40 highly creative (and, one might argue, slightly neurotic) woman attempting to come to grips with the concept of marriage;
1a) loves food and wine
1b) forever questioning herself and the world around her
1c) prone to meditation and searching
1d) much more forgiving of the world than of herself
2) has previously had to survive an unhappy marriage and soul-crushing divorce (OK, I had her beat there: two abusive marriages and soul-crushing divorces);
3) after banging her head one too many times on rock bottom, swears off men (temporarily, of course, let's not get crazy about it!) and takes soul-awakening inner and outer journeys that finally make her feel strong and alright about herself...
4) when suddenly, she meets and unexpectedly falls in love with a man 17 years her senior (mine's 18, but who's counting?)...
5) who has also had a soul-crushing marriage and divorce experience that left him shaken and shattered and disillusioned (albeit in Bali... slightly different than Barrie!)
6) so they live together in romantic bliss for several years, knowing they don't need government or religious sanction for theirs to be a sacred bond, a lifetime union...
7) when suddenly (OK, our tale doesn't involve homeland security, she's got me there!) they find themselves staring marriage in the face and
8) she needs to figure out a way to convince herself that that's alright.
Damn, I should have written a book, instead of dealing with months of fretting and loss of sleep before making peace with the concept -- I could have made money off my struggle and had Julia Roberts (with, perhaps, some extra padding) eventually portray me in a movie! :-)
But, ahem... back to the honeymoon.
Don emerges from his massage a very happy, gloopy man. We change into our bathing suits and inn-provided spa robes and pad down the hall for our first WaterSpa circuit. Pure bliss!!! The instructions on the wall suggest anywhere from 3 to 10 minutes for each station -- we stay at all of them until the jets turn themselves off, except for the air lounge, which we do twice because it's... just... that... good. We must have stayed there about an hour and a half in total, and came out feeling even more relaxed, if that was possible.
Upstairs to wash the salt off, and then onto the deck for pre-dinner cocktails and murmurs of relaxed post-massage bliss. Alas, the rain starts to come down a little heavily, so we retreat to the covered patio and watch the lake dance.
Don's still a little suspicious of the grape, so we opt to forego the bottle of wine with dinner -- I get their house red by the glass (as Air Canada and the Barrie Examiner know, you just don't pick a fight with Lyssy and win!) and he sticks with their local draught. My appetizer is decadent blue cheese courgettes, followed by grilled local Walleye in a cajun-like seasoning, followed by raspberry creme brulee (who needs strawberries when you can have raspberry creme brulee?). In a rare moment for someone who usually gets only a main course and still needs a doggie bag, I leave no crumb behind, no trace of creme or even brulee remains in the dish. I vow to start exercising again in August, and send an extra birthday gift to our foster child in Nigeria.
The rainstorm continues with gusto, and we don't feel like being holed up in our room all night (and we sure as heck aren't getting back in that jacuzzi!), so we decide to sample the inn's supply of single malt. My dear beloved picks out two from Islay: an 18-year Lagavulin and a 12-year Ardbeg. The good news is, he prefers the Lagavulin and I prefer the Ardbeg, so nobody has to arm-wrestle. The bad news is, we don't discover until checking our bill (several days later) just how fine our tastes are! Ah well, you only get married once, right? ;-)
We take our diamond-encrusted beverages out to the covered patio to watch the storm. It appears that several others have had the same idea, and are are all cosily huddled at the side of the patio closest to the house, so the driving rain doesn't soak anyone. We worm our way in to the gathering and discover that everyone on the patio is either on their honeymoon or anniversary! Many of the anniversary couples were once here on their honeymoon, but keep returning -- we agree it's a brilliant idea. It's a diverse group, ranging from a couple in their early twenties to... ugh, I hate guessing these things, but I'd say late sixties, most from Ontario but a couple from out west, and two from the States. The next few hours of conversation covers everything from the weather to jobs to politics to children to geography to food to sports to US/Canada relations to how much better the world would be if this friendly patio crowd were in charge! As people slowly tucker out and excuse themselves, we observe how this enjoyable visit with total strangers would not have happened, but for good old mother nature.
Once again, we night-owls are the last to leave the party. Our friendly server, Margo, pops her head through the patio window to see if we'd like another diamond-encrusted single malt before the night is over? She obviously doesn't know us very well... she brings us our thirds and joins us on the patio. She, too, first came to Sir Sam's as a honeymooner, a moon or two ago. Later, her family moved up to the region, and her daughter Katie (our server the night before) started working with the wait staff. Several years ago, Katie convinced her mom to join her, and they've been working together here ever since -- except for Margo's anniversary weekend, when she becomes a guest once again.
We must mention that most of the staff here seem to have been working here for several years full-time, or are students who come back year after year. In an industry that often struggles with staff itinerancy, this inn has obviously been treating its staff well, and inspires them to treat their guests even better!
The last drops licked from the bottom of our goblets, we bid good-night to Margo and head up to bed.
But get up we did, slightly miraculously. And breakfast at Sir Sam's Inn is definitely worth the effort! (Yes, Mom, even I ate breakfast!) The buffet table is stocked with various juices, cereals, fruit, breads, muffins, and sweet rolls. Plus you can choose from two or three hot breakfasts -- a different selection each morning. Considering my woozy head, I decided to forego adventure and go with scrambled eggs this time 'round (unfortunately, however, I forgot to mention I prefer my eggs really really really well-done -- my only food disappointment the entire week, although my own fault). And coffee, lots of coffee... and juice, lots of juice.
Breakfast accomplished, we went back to our room to decide which peaceful activity we might try that morning... and quickly fell into comas. Yes, a good brisk nap was in order... and, fortunately did the trick.
Once that frenzy of activity was over, we obviously needed to replenish ourselves with lunch! On to the patio for a wee bite. I opted for a delicious vegetarian pizza on a phyllo pastry... splendid! Don went for a burger that was so delicious, he was about 3/4 finished it before he realized it hadn't been cooked all the way through -- his only food disappointment the entire week, though our waiter said she'd take 1/2 off the bill (which, considering he'd eaten more than half, was a generous offer).
A little bit of wandering, and then it was time for my first massage! We had booked a couple's massage, but one of the women was not able to make it, so we went back-to-back today, instead -- Don ever-so-virtuously going for a workout while I had my appointment. Despite our pre-wedding massages the week before, and another one two weeks previous, this masseuse definitely had her work cut out for her! My back and shoulders were in their typical "crunchy" formations, but she pummelled them into submission and left me feeling like very happy jelly. I was sent forth with an order to drink lots and lots of water (oh, if she only knew!), and said a quick hello to Don in the waiting room.
A little less virtuously, I went to read my book during Don's appointment. :-) But it was a terrific book: "Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage" by Elizabeth Gilbert. Yes, some might question it as appropriate reading material for a honeymoon, but... as I said in my wedding vows, if I'd listened to my brain in the first place, I wouldn't be here in my bliss-filled life with a man I adore. And, as I read more and more of the book, I realized just how incredibly uber-appropriate reading this book was. I'm sure Ms. Gilbert has heard far too many times "it's almost as if you wrote your book about me!" but... holy geez, it was like she'd written the book about me. :-)
For your edification:
1) almost-40 highly creative (and, one might argue, slightly neurotic) woman attempting to come to grips with the concept of marriage;
1a) loves food and wine
1b) forever questioning herself and the world around her
1c) prone to meditation and searching
1d) much more forgiving of the world than of herself
2) has previously had to survive an unhappy marriage and soul-crushing divorce (OK, I had her beat there: two abusive marriages and soul-crushing divorces);
3) after banging her head one too many times on rock bottom, swears off men (temporarily, of course, let's not get crazy about it!) and takes soul-awakening inner and outer journeys that finally make her feel strong and alright about herself...
4) when suddenly, she meets and unexpectedly falls in love with a man 17 years her senior (mine's 18, but who's counting?)...
5) who has also had a soul-crushing marriage and divorce experience that left him shaken and shattered and disillusioned (albeit in Bali... slightly different than Barrie!)
6) so they live together in romantic bliss for several years, knowing they don't need government or religious sanction for theirs to be a sacred bond, a lifetime union...
7) when suddenly (OK, our tale doesn't involve homeland security, she's got me there!) they find themselves staring marriage in the face and
8) she needs to figure out a way to convince herself that that's alright.
Damn, I should have written a book, instead of dealing with months of fretting and loss of sleep before making peace with the concept -- I could have made money off my struggle and had Julia Roberts (with, perhaps, some extra padding) eventually portray me in a movie! :-)
But, ahem... back to the honeymoon.
Don emerges from his massage a very happy, gloopy man. We change into our bathing suits and inn-provided spa robes and pad down the hall for our first WaterSpa circuit. Pure bliss!!! The instructions on the wall suggest anywhere from 3 to 10 minutes for each station -- we stay at all of them until the jets turn themselves off, except for the air lounge, which we do twice because it's... just... that... good. We must have stayed there about an hour and a half in total, and came out feeling even more relaxed, if that was possible.
Upstairs to wash the salt off, and then onto the deck for pre-dinner cocktails and murmurs of relaxed post-massage bliss. Alas, the rain starts to come down a little heavily, so we retreat to the covered patio and watch the lake dance.
Don's still a little suspicious of the grape, so we opt to forego the bottle of wine with dinner -- I get their house red by the glass (as Air Canada and the Barrie Examiner know, you just don't pick a fight with Lyssy and win!) and he sticks with their local draught. My appetizer is decadent blue cheese courgettes, followed by grilled local Walleye in a cajun-like seasoning, followed by raspberry creme brulee (who needs strawberries when you can have raspberry creme brulee?). In a rare moment for someone who usually gets only a main course and still needs a doggie bag, I leave no crumb behind, no trace of creme or even brulee remains in the dish. I vow to start exercising again in August, and send an extra birthday gift to our foster child in Nigeria.
The rainstorm continues with gusto, and we don't feel like being holed up in our room all night (and we sure as heck aren't getting back in that jacuzzi!), so we decide to sample the inn's supply of single malt. My dear beloved picks out two from Islay: an 18-year Lagavulin and a 12-year Ardbeg. The good news is, he prefers the Lagavulin and I prefer the Ardbeg, so nobody has to arm-wrestle. The bad news is, we don't discover until checking our bill (several days later) just how fine our tastes are! Ah well, you only get married once, right? ;-)
We take our diamond-encrusted beverages out to the covered patio to watch the storm. It appears that several others have had the same idea, and are are all cosily huddled at the side of the patio closest to the house, so the driving rain doesn't soak anyone. We worm our way in to the gathering and discover that everyone on the patio is either on their honeymoon or anniversary! Many of the anniversary couples were once here on their honeymoon, but keep returning -- we agree it's a brilliant idea. It's a diverse group, ranging from a couple in their early twenties to... ugh, I hate guessing these things, but I'd say late sixties, most from Ontario but a couple from out west, and two from the States. The next few hours of conversation covers everything from the weather to jobs to politics to children to geography to food to sports to US/Canada relations to how much better the world would be if this friendly patio crowd were in charge! As people slowly tucker out and excuse themselves, we observe how this enjoyable visit with total strangers would not have happened, but for good old mother nature.
Once again, we night-owls are the last to leave the party. Our friendly server, Margo, pops her head through the patio window to see if we'd like another diamond-encrusted single malt before the night is over? She obviously doesn't know us very well... she brings us our thirds and joins us on the patio. She, too, first came to Sir Sam's as a honeymooner, a moon or two ago. Later, her family moved up to the region, and her daughter Katie (our server the night before) started working with the wait staff. Several years ago, Katie convinced her mom to join her, and they've been working together here ever since -- except for Margo's anniversary weekend, when she becomes a guest once again.
We must mention that most of the staff here seem to have been working here for several years full-time, or are students who come back year after year. In an industry that often struggles with staff itinerancy, this inn has obviously been treating its staff well, and inspires them to treat their guests even better!
The last drops licked from the bottom of our goblets, we bid good-night to Margo and head up to bed.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Monday, continued - champagne, strawberries, and wildlife!
And so, we set off to explore the new terrain, wandering the grounds. We headed down the hill to the water, and unknowingly entered the terrain of a duck, who started heading towards us. Assuming we'd come too close to her nest, we switched the direction of our ambling. She followed. Oops, we must have guessed the wrong direction, so started walking away from the water. Duck followed. And so it continued, with us wandering a rather serpentine path, and the duck (whom Don later named Wonk) trailing along in a lazy "heel" position. Even when we walked out onto the dock, Wonk stumbled along behind, tripping a little on the gaps between platforms, but still doggedly determined to be our chaperone. So canine she appeared, we finally bent down to see if she wanted to be pet... but no, she tended more towards the feline with that concept. Finally, we bade her adieu, certain that we'd see her again the next time we went for a wonder -- although, disappointingly, we never caught sight of her again.
So began our evening of blissful ignorance. :-)
It was the cocktail hour, so we walked back into the house and up to the bar to grab a couple o' pints of the local draught. Asking if it was alright to take our tasty beverages onto the patio, we were informed that we could take them anywhere we liked, other than onto the boats or down the street. (Ooh, how civilized -- you sure we're still in Ontario?) So we grabbed our books and notebooks (which went unused, as we were chatting and watching the whole time) and took our Muskoka dark ales out onto the patio.
We must have been having a Dr. Doolittle day, because a little after we had sat down, a little red squirrel scampered through the deck and hung out with us for quite some time, until it resigned itself to the fact that we had no snacks to share. Unfortunately for him, the bartender came out to check on us a few minutes later, bringing us a little bowl of snacks! We opted for a second brew to help wash them down, and chatted and stared at scenery a little longer.
And then the descent into the wine cellar - a fairly small-ish room (you probably wouldn't want to be in there with one who hadn't recently bathed), filled floor to ceiling with 80-ish bins of reds and whites. Like kids in a candy store! What to choose, what to choose? We opted for our usual favourite, a Rioja, and clambered back up the stairs. We were informed by our waiter Katie that, if we didn't finish the wine at dinner, they could re-cork it and save it for the next day, or we could take the bottle up to our room -- again, how civilized! (Although I don't think we've ever not been able to finish a bottle of wine, so the option wasn't terribly beneficial to us.)
The dinner menu at Sir Sam's varies each night. You can choose one from about three appetizers or salad (if you opt to skip dessert, you can have two appetizers instead -- but who wants to skip dessert?), one of usually four entrees (although the chef seemed quite happy to prepare special off-menu vegetarian stuff for me too, as long as he knew in advance), and one of three desserts. Throughout the week, the food at every meal was just fabulous -- there was nothing either of us didn't enjoy whole-heartedly, and Don was forever teasing me about all the coo-ing sounds I'd make with each mouthful.
I'm afraid I didn't write down what my darling husband (!) ordered, but I started with a delicious salad of greens and strawberries, followed by an exquisite catfish dish and finished with chocolate mousse -- with strawberries, of course! We took a tiny wander to help digest, and then headed back to our room to make sure the champagne was still cold. :-)
And here comes the grand finale of blissful ignorance: definitely blissful that evening, not-so-blissful the following morning. (Can't say we were even ignorant, just choosing to forget, I guess...)
Bottle of champagne in the room. Jacuzzi in the room. Tasty treats in the fridge. Either of these three options would have been lovely. But we're not terribly good at making decisions, so opted for all three. Not our most brilliant choice, I'm afraid, as our fuzzy heads the next morning would attest.
But, still in blissful ignorance mode, we filled the tub with nice and hot-hot-hot water, grabbed the champagne, cheese tray and chocolate-covered strawberries, turned on the jets and enjoyed a night of complete decadence, calories and brain cells be damned!
Sometimes, you just have to forget about consequences, throw caution to the wind, and jump right in...
So began our evening of blissful ignorance. :-)
It was the cocktail hour, so we walked back into the house and up to the bar to grab a couple o' pints of the local draught. Asking if it was alright to take our tasty beverages onto the patio, we were informed that we could take them anywhere we liked, other than onto the boats or down the street. (Ooh, how civilized -- you sure we're still in Ontario?) So we grabbed our books and notebooks (which went unused, as we were chatting and watching the whole time) and took our Muskoka dark ales out onto the patio.
We must have been having a Dr. Doolittle day, because a little after we had sat down, a little red squirrel scampered through the deck and hung out with us for quite some time, until it resigned itself to the fact that we had no snacks to share. Unfortunately for him, the bartender came out to check on us a few minutes later, bringing us a little bowl of snacks! We opted for a second brew to help wash them down, and chatted and stared at scenery a little longer.
And then the descent into the wine cellar - a fairly small-ish room (you probably wouldn't want to be in there with one who hadn't recently bathed), filled floor to ceiling with 80-ish bins of reds and whites. Like kids in a candy store! What to choose, what to choose? We opted for our usual favourite, a Rioja, and clambered back up the stairs. We were informed by our waiter Katie that, if we didn't finish the wine at dinner, they could re-cork it and save it for the next day, or we could take the bottle up to our room -- again, how civilized! (Although I don't think we've ever not been able to finish a bottle of wine, so the option wasn't terribly beneficial to us.)
The dinner menu at Sir Sam's varies each night. You can choose one from about three appetizers or salad (if you opt to skip dessert, you can have two appetizers instead -- but who wants to skip dessert?), one of usually four entrees (although the chef seemed quite happy to prepare special off-menu vegetarian stuff for me too, as long as he knew in advance), and one of three desserts. Throughout the week, the food at every meal was just fabulous -- there was nothing either of us didn't enjoy whole-heartedly, and Don was forever teasing me about all the coo-ing sounds I'd make with each mouthful.
I'm afraid I didn't write down what my darling husband (!) ordered, but I started with a delicious salad of greens and strawberries, followed by an exquisite catfish dish and finished with chocolate mousse -- with strawberries, of course! We took a tiny wander to help digest, and then headed back to our room to make sure the champagne was still cold. :-)
And here comes the grand finale of blissful ignorance: definitely blissful that evening, not-so-blissful the following morning. (Can't say we were even ignorant, just choosing to forget, I guess...)
Bottle of champagne in the room. Jacuzzi in the room. Tasty treats in the fridge. Either of these three options would have been lovely. But we're not terribly good at making decisions, so opted for all three. Not our most brilliant choice, I'm afraid, as our fuzzy heads the next morning would attest.
But, still in blissful ignorance mode, we filled the tub with nice and hot-hot-hot water, grabbed the champagne, cheese tray and chocolate-covered strawberries, turned on the jets and enjoyed a night of complete decadence, calories and brain cells be damned!
Sometimes, you just have to forget about consequences, throw caution to the wind, and jump right in...
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