As far as rude awakenings go, this morning tops the lot.
"Racoon! There's a racoon in the tent!" Owen exclaimed at 0530. I dozily looked up. The sound of rustling came from our porch area with all of our food.
"Get out! Go! Shoo!" We shouted, alongside a couple of more colourful terms. It paid no attention. I launched a flip flop at it, but it shrugged it off. Owen crawled forwards to scare it off; It looked up.
"Skunk! Skunk in the tent!" And never before has Owen jumped back quicker into the inner, zipping the door shut.
The skunk returned to it's meal of our tortilla chips left over from last nights barbeque. We reassessed the situation. Owen flashed his torch at it; Not bothered. Out of ideas, unwilling to get more physical for fear of having to explain to the Regimental Quartermaster why his tent is now uninhabitable, we accepted our new tent mate and went back to bed. We dozed away, our intruder munching away on tortilla chips in the background.
When we arose again, a black and white fluffy tail was wagging out of Owen's day sack. In mortal fear for the Chamois cream, we thought of alternative ways to scare it off. Jake played the skunk some music, which it didn't like, and it ducked out under the fly. Jake pursued while Owen and I got dressed. Owen was again crawling into to porch area when the skunk slipped back in; Cue shouting, Owen leaping back, zipping the tent and holding our breath. I set my speakers to full and played some heavy metal music, and it panicked and ran. Jake then chased it with a railway sleeper. It didn't return.
The cycling was long and uneventful. We passed a maple tree with the most vivid red leaves I have ever seen. The rest was corn, beans and chilli fields. Workers picked chillies in the heat, scarves around their mouths and faces, and gloves on their hands. It was a hilly morning, but an afternoon of flat, straight roads, one of which was 30 miles long. We later picked up the Welland Canal to Lake Ontario.
Accommodation tonight was supposedly at a winery organised through Mike's friend Michael. We tried a couple of times to call him, but to no avail. Eventually I called Mike and he gave us an address and said he would call Michael too. Great, we thought, all sorted.
We cycled to the winery after dropping down the escarpment a couple of hundred metres to the Lake Ontario shore. We rode through vineyards and orchards of apples and peaches, incredible smells drifted past on the breeze, the air sweet and thick. Wineries were signposted in every direction. At our destination, the establishment was closed, with seemingly no signs of life. Around the back, we found a girl with a friend drinking wine on the back porch. Karen, while a little confused why three Brits had just appeared from around the corner, was welcoming and offered us chairs on the porch while we figured out the accommodation. It all appeared promising, and someone was coming to meet us in an hour and a half.
Karen took us to a winery she works at, doing book keeping, where we were treated to a free tour and tasting. We tasted four wines, a white, red and two "ice wines", learning about the wine making process as we went. As none of us are wine connoisseurs, we learned a great deal. We bought a bottle of ice wine for the road, as it is apparently somewhat rare; The grapes must be pressed while still frozen, creating a thicker, sweeter wine similar to a liqueur. Jake also met a friend of a friend from back in Ross-on-Wye who was working in the winery and led the tour and tasting.
We returned to our back porch and attempted to sort out the accommodation again. After several calls, it seemed we weren't expected, and a call to Mike confirmed that he had texted me saying that we couldn't be accommodated, but texts from locals do not reach me over here. A potentially awkward situation. The woman coming to meet us would have expected us to pay several hundred dollars for the B&B!
Karen came to the rescue, and spoke to her mother, securing us a back garden to sleep in. She also took us out for dinner at a local bar, where we played pool with her and her friend. By he time we returned it was late, we were tired, and we retreated to a hot and humid tent.
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