Thanksgiving is the most family-oriented of American holidays. I am unmarried and childless, and so feel less investment in such things than most folks do. I observed it with me dear old mum while she was here; in 2019, six months after she shuffled off, I roasted one last turkey, which I spent several weeks eating. After that, I felt no need to keep up the holiday's traditions. In the pandemic year, I did a leg of lamb, my personal special-event meal. When restrictions eased in 2021, I got several invitations from friends to join them for Thanksgiving dinner, which I greatly appreciated but politely declined. I'm really not sociable enough to blend into someone else's family holiday. But I didn't want people to feel sorry for me sitting home alone, either...well, maybe it would only have been me feeling sorry for myself. Best not to find out. I decided to go where it wasn't Thanksgiving at all: Canada, a country which observes its own Thanksgiving in October. I went to Montreal, Ottawa, and Merrickville, the latter an old mill town on the Rideau Canal. Of course, you read about that here. Last year, it was Magog, Sutton, and Montreal again--an enjoyable trip, but one lacking the sort of points of interest I like to illustrate here, and so not recorded.

The Merrickville stay piqued my curiosity about the canal, and so part of this year's trip will be spent exploring that further. Before that, I will spend a few days in Prince Edward County, a curious corner of Ontario I've never visited, simply because it's not on the way from anywhere to anywhere else. I'll start and finish on the banks of the St Lawrence River, near its origin at the eastern end of Lake Ontario. I've had in mind for some years to extend my exploration of the North Atlantic Arc into the Great Lakes watershed; this will be a modest start.

Saturday 18 November 2023--The traveler headed from Massachusetts to the border crossing at the Thousand Islands might take interstate highways all the way, I-90 west to I-81 north (linking via I-481, skirting Syracuse, New York). I choose to exit the New York State Thruway at Utica and drive route 12 north, saving a good number of miles, if not any time. And instead of rejoining I-81 in the vicinity of Watertown, I take route 26 north to Alexandria Bay, adding a few more minutes. It's one of several towns I considered for staging on the first and last nights of my trip, and having decided to stay elsewhere, I want to drive through to see what I'm missing. It's obviously a summer town, very quiet just now. Wikipedia says the year-round population is a bit over a thousand, swelling to 15,000 in the high season. Hard to picture in late November.

I top up the fuel tank just outside town, cross the bridges and the border, and drive ten miles down the Thousand Islands Parkway to Gananoque. The name is pronounced, more or less, Gannan Ockway. The locals call it simply Gan. Founded by Loyalists following the American Revolution, it is now the self-styled Gateway to the Thousand Islands. Like Alexandria Bay, it obviously thrives on summer activities, but it's a larger town, with a population over 5,000, and it appears to have some year-round life. I check into my motel--a HoJo, the cheapest option, but close to town--and take a stroll in, past a couple of Anytown commercial blocks (fast food, Chevy dealer, supermarket) into downtown proper. It's a handsome enough place, two and a half blocks without a single vacant storefront. At the far end, by the Gananoque River, is my intended destination, the Gan Brewing Company. It's closed for a private party. Kid's hockey team, looks like.

Plan B is the Stonewater Pub, down toward the waterfront. It's a nice pub, busy on a Saturday, but I manage to squeeze in for a burger and a couple of pints. I ask for the bill when I see that karaoke is about to start, but the waitress is overworked, and I'm forced to endure a chorus of Sweet Caroline before I can make my escape. So good! So good! So good! A matter of opinion.