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Tuesday, March 4th, 2008 Nipigon - Red Rock Gazette Page 5 Basic Black A Dream Vacation? They closed Haleakala National Park on the Hawaiian island of Maui last week. Too. much snow. The newspapers carried photos of kids clumping their very first clumsy snowmen together in the Haleakala parking lot. One local dad was snapped avidly shoveling snow into a picnic cooler. Said he was going to take the stuff to his daughter’s pre-school class ‘to show the students what this stuff is like”. The Hawaiians were enthralled, amazed, mesmerized. As a visiting, hoar frost hardened Canuck I was merely bemused. Here I was in a tropical Garden of Eden, when my biggest problems should have been choosing between snorkeling or ham-mocking; jumbo prawns on the patio or lining up for luau tickets under the palms but no... they were closing parks and issuing severe weather alerts because it was snowing in Hawaii. And I thought: of course it’s snowing in Hawaii -I’m here. But perhaps we haven’t been introduced? Hello, my name is Arthur. I am the Darth Vader of Vacationing. The Hellspawn of Holidays. The Typhoid Mary of Tourism. Wherever I choose to spend my sabbaticals you can rest assured that the winds will wrack, the heavens will weep and old Mister Sun will be a dedicated no-show. It’s a hands down, lead pipe given. Two winters ago I flew to the southern tip of the Iberian Peninsula in order to spend two weeks on the ‘Costa del Sol’. That’s Spanish for ‘the sunny coast’, and it’s not just a cliche. There are cheery, multilingual roadside signs welcoming you to ‘the warmest winter destination in all of Europe’. And well it may be - when I’m not there. During my fortnight an Arctic-class wind lifted picturesque tiles off the roofs of picturesque Spanish casas and smashed them on the ice-glazed, picturesque streets below. The rain came in like machine gun fire from the bleak grey Mediterranean, tattooing our windows until I thought the panes would shatter. The colourful, local marketplaces were deserted. The bulls in the plaza de toros fled to Mexico for the winter. The flamenco dancers wore mittens. Mind you, it didn’t rain and blow for the entire two weeks. A couple of days were merely overcast. I should have known better. A few years back I took my sweetie for a winter vacation to the Canary Islands. What could go wrong? The Canaries are off the coast of freaking Africa - practically on the equator, for crying out loud. “You’ll love it,” I crooned. “It’s desert country. Palm trees. Cactuses. Blazing sunshine dawn til dusk.” All true - until Yours Truly cleared customs. During our two weeks it was so frigid even the hardy German and Danish women tourists declined to go topless. And so wet that the Ministerio de Turismo was reduced to issuing flood warnings and road washout alerts. I will never forget the defining moment of that trip. We were in a taxi, my increasingly tight-lipped sweetie and I, sloshing through the sodden streets of Las Palmas. As the overburdened wipers strained to deflect the deluge pouring down on the windshield, the taxi driver was earnestly assuring us that ‘nunca’ -never - ‘en veinte-cinco anos’ - in 25 years - had the Canary Islands been buffeted by monsoons like this. Oddly, this failed to thrill us as much as it did the driver. I hate to go all superstitious but I think it’s pretty obvious that the Weather Gods have it in for me. You’d think I’d have learned that by now. After all, I’ve been tornadoed in Texas, deluged in Delhi, flooded in Florida, swamped in Swaziland and involuntarily inundated in Indonesia. Mexico? Don’t speak to me of Mexico. I’ve been to Mexico and back, trailing hailstorms, whiteouts, cyclones and torrential downpours in my wallowing wake. I’ve had the same effect on Colorado, Arizona, Louisiana and New Mexico. My talent for attracting bad vacation weather became so unnerving that last year I decided to save myself a wallet full of money and an ice chest of grief. When winter vacation time rolled around, I passed. I decided to stay in Canada for the duration. Remember what a crummy winter we had last year? Mea culpa. My fault, folks. Sorry about that. Next winter? Well, I hear wonderful things about south Queensland in Australia. It’s officially tropical. The Aussie tourist propaganda refers to it as the Sunshine State. More to the point, it took the title for hottest place on earth one day a couple of years back -69.3 degrees Celsius. That’s a mercury-popping 156.7 on the old Fahrenheit scale. Sounds good to me. That’s where I’m headed next January. You might want to consider cornering the Queensland umbrella and ear muff market before the stampede. “Call me today, for a no obligation appointment Desjardins Financial Security* Investments Inc. Desjardins Financial Security* Independent Network Working with you, to help you achieve financial peace of mind • Savings and Investment Retirement Planning • Health Benefits • Life Insurance Your North Shore Representative Greg Imhoff, Life Insurance Representative 124 John Street Nipigon, ON P0T2J0 Bus: (807)887-4698 Home: (807)887-3017 Toll Free: 1-888-626-1530 E-mail: greg.imhoff@dfsin.ca Classified Order Form Mail Cheque or Money Order to: The Nipigon-Red Rock Gazette P.O. BOX 1057 Nipigon, Ontario POT 2JO NAME ___________________________ ADDRESS ________________________ PHONE __________________________ 1 WEEK.......$ 6.83 2 WEEKS........$11.55 3 WEEKS ....$15.23 4 WEEKS.......$17.85 (5th week Free with 4 weeks) Prices include 5% GST You are allowed 25 words in your ad(s). If you are over 25 words, add 20 cents per additional word PER WEEK. (Ads must be prepaid and are not refundable^. 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