We left dinner with our new friends, both still alive. None of them turned out to be murderers, which was an added bonus.

Chris got to pick what we did the next day because I had hijacked Saturday. As always, she chose wisely. We breakfasted at Tim Horton’s, because Canada, and headed to Toronto Island. We skipped the ferry and chose instead to take a water taxi…which meant we were jammed on a pontoon boat with 10 other people. Have I mentioned lately about my fear of drowning, water, and/or boats?

Before…

During…

After.

It was a beautiful day (and super crowded, but whatever), and we had a really, really lovely time. We had a beer (my favorite beer, for those of you who know me), we walked around a bit, we rented some super stylish bikes, saw a skywriter (who did not succeed in writing “Surrender, Dorothy”), stopped in a church, we consumed something called a Beaver Tail, and then, faced with a 90-minute ferry wait, we opted for a gay water taxi home. I’m just going to let the pictures speak for themselves this time.

          

We finished our day with some delicious Mexican street corn, some tacos (again!), and ice cream. The only thing better than the day was the company.