The first time I saw Niagara Falls was when my father took the whole family to a bio-chemists’ symposium held in Buffalo, NY. I might have been in my mid to late teens; my brother was still a baby. I remember my mother had her hands full with us. My brother fussed and refused to eat, and I rebelled in my own passive-aggressive way. My mother told us later that she would never take us kids anywhere again.
Anyway, we did manage to get it together enough to spend one afternoon on the American side of Niagara Falls. We did all the obligatory things: taking a ride on the “Maid of the Mist”, wearing black and yellow rain slickers; climbing the observation tower; and stuffing ourselves with street food.
After my father’s untimely death, my mother and I drove up there several more times. Each time, the journey would take us through Bradford, PA where Dad grew up and now lies buried. We’d buy flowers and put them on his grave before heading back to the Desoto Motel for dinner and sleep. The next morning, we’d head up to Niagara.
Niagara Falls is one of the eight wonders of the world (and if it isn’t, it should be). I took my own kids up there once and did essentially the same things with them as my Dad had done with us. Only this time we also visited the Hard Rock Café where we bought burgers and tee-shirts.
Most people can list three of the most awesome waterfalls on earth. The list never varies: Niagara in North America; Iguaçu in South America, Victoria in Africa. The precise order of the three is purely subjective. Aside from Niagara, I’ve personally only visited Iguaçu. To compare Niagara with Iguaçu seems like comparing apples with oranges. Some like this one better; some like the other; most like both pretty much the same.
On my most recent visit up there, I took my brand new, Indian-born wife. She’d never seen it. Of course, she’d heard of Niagara Falls and may even have seen the movie with Marilyn Monroe. I, on the other hand, had been up there many times before and did not relish the long drive. It all became worth it, though, when I saw the wonder in her eyes and it affected me as well. Suddenly, I too felt like I was there for the first time. She explained that I was seeing the Falls through her eyes.
Actually, we hadn’t planned on going over to the Canadian side except maybe on foot. From my previous trips, I had always felt that the American side was more natural; more intimate. There were actually places to sit - away from the hawkers and crowds - and imagine what it must have been like when there were only Indians roaming the countryside. One could easily puzzle about what they might have made of this extraordinary spectacle of nature; how they too must have felt it was somehow sacred.
But I had mistakenly taken a lane which would lead across the bridge and from which there was no exit. So, we ended up in Canada. Since we were already there, we decided to stay. There was no need to worry about changing money since everything could be paid for by credit card anyway.
We took a room (with a tortured view of the main attraction) at Michael’s Inn. The town on the Canadian side resembled an amusement park, complete with casinos. It was quite something to walk around at night with all the other thrill seekers, luxuriating in a virtual tide of neon. I did think it was all a bit over the top and totally superfluous, but nevertheless engaging. We found an Indian restaurant (Nataraj) where we had a great dinner.
The next day we took a ride along the Niagara River to the town of Niagara-by-the-Lake. It’s nice if you like lots of flowers, people, shops and the like. One block away, however, toward the lake side, all the frenzy ceases and some degree of peace and normalcy returns.
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