So I finally experienced my first fall on PEI. A neighbour recently bought property across the road from us and has begun developing it, so we decided to go out for Thanksgiving weekend and tack on an extra few days, in part to check in on how the main building was progressing.

Most of the time I‘ve spent on my beloved isle has been in summer (though I have braved a few winter excursions as well), and I must say, it was caught off guard by how lovely this place is in autumn!

I‘ve read the Tourism PEI enticements to visit the island in the fall, but I‘d always sort of assumed that was mostly just a sale pitch. I was prepared to enjoy a nice thanksgiving meal and just play my drums and catch up on sleep for a few days close to home.

But it turns out the hype is legit: The island is largely rural, and as such, has lots of foliage to show off in fall. The caucophony of colours was spectacular wherever we went!

Although we did visit a new-to-us beach while there (Thunder Cove, to see the „teapot“), we actually spent less time by the ocean than on any other visit I have made to the island. Instead, we explored a few of the island‘s many trails.

Upon seeing several enticing forest paths on various PEI instagram accts I follow, I inquired where one goes for a walk in the forest; a friend and neighbour recommended Forest Hill Trail, south of St Peters, near Strathcona. So, off we went, dog in tow.

It had been rather a damp few weeks, and so mushrooms of all manner were blossoming majestically along the leafy forest path. We took several photos of the remarkably diverse species of fungi while the dog romped around the soggy leaves and went tearing happily back and forth along the trails.

We did some off-trail geocaching, and also lost (and thankfully found!) my phone before heading back to the car with soggy-pawed dog for the half hour drive to the Charlottetown airport.

If you‘ve never been to the island in fall, I highly recommend it. Especially if you are a lover of nature, it‘s a beautiful time to visit, and as an added bonus, the place is not overrun by tourists and mosquitoes, as is frequently the case during the summer months.

October PEI, I‘ll be back!

Before we embarked on our recent road trip to Newfoundland, I had heard many wondrous things about the beauty of this land. I wondered, before we left, if I would fall in love with it the way I had with PEI years earlier.

As we disembarked from the ferry in Port-aux-Basques and made our way carefully through the early morning fog that rolled across the landscape (a remnant of an overnight thunderstorm), we caught periodic glimpses of the majestic hills that define this part of the island. The view was so visually overwhelming that I wept. And for once, my kids -- also in awe of the magnificent beauty surrounding us -- didn't ask me why I was crying!
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As we continued to work our way north along the Viking Trail (the highway that traces the island's west coast), through Gros Morne National Park, past many brooks and streams, towards St Anthony, we enjoyed a visual feast each day. There were few appetizers and little dessert. The landscape offered up mostly main courses: One strong and powerful rock formation gave way to another, always another. Water gushed and trickled and danced its way down the mountains, across the rugged landscape and out to the sea. And the sea was big and omnipresent, always to one side of us, creeping in and out to form little inlets for fishing villages, but always eventually stretching out, out, out towards eternity. 

A soundtrack of Stan Rogers and other Canadian east coast artists served as an auditory complement for many hours of most days, as we took in without boredom the feast laid out before us.

In the people we met along the way -- whether through a local theatre performance, a band accompanying our supper one night, or the tour guides on the whale boat and at L'Anse aux Meadows -- we sensed a deep appreciation for, and love of, this landscape. They were connected with the water in ways that I would say most other Canadians, even those from other east coast provinces, aren't. Every brook is marked (and many accompanied by hiking trails), and the ocean plays a key role in the history of almost every family on the island for generations back. Their pride in this land is evident in the way they speak, the way they carry themselves. 

The Newfies we met were confident and funny, without being arrogant; they were just very sure of who they were, geographically and culturally speaking.  Where many Canadians waver in terms of what one might call a national identity, Newfoundlanders stand tall and certain. It was clear: We were in Newfoundland, but Newfoundland was not in us the way it was in them!

I enjoyed our time on the road tremendously.  As a Canadian, getting to know this part of my country a little felt like an important pilgrimage.  And I was very impressed with the landscape. 
But I did not fall in love.
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As we wound our way back to the Confederation Bridge, and Nova Scotia gave way to New Brunswick, and we eventually were able to glimpse the red soil on the other side of the strait, my breath caught a little.  This beautiful place I get to call home sometimes is not nearly as impressive in its majesty as its larger sibling to the east, but it is a pretty little island, and strong in its own right.

Abegweit, the cradle in the waves, with its red soil, blue skies, endless potato farms and arguably the best beaches in Canada, is my one true love, and -- much as I was pleased with our time in Newfoundland -- when we finally crossed the bridge and found ourselves on familiar ground, I was happy to be home. And, when I flew back to Toronto about a week and a half later, I was still hungry for a few final glimpses of the red isle... as we took off into the sunset, I couldn't stop snapping picture after picture of my one true love!

There are many reasons I love PEI, two of which are the night sky (sorry, no photos), and the tremendous canvas of colours and textures along the North Shore of the Island.

Like many people my age, I can't help by marvel when I consider the vastness of the universe. And, like many people younger than I am who share my mainly urban lifestyle, I rarely get to see first hand fodder to inspire this consideration.  Light pollution, and lots of it, often rule out even the most amateur stargazing adventures in and around the city.

But on the Island, on any quasi-clear night, thousands of stars are easily admired with the naked eye.
Many times have I put off taking out the recycling or compost bin until after dark, and been richly rewarded with an astronomy display seldom emulated in a planetarium!

During the daytime, it's the palette of the most distinguished artist I admire as I roam the beaches of St Peters Harbour and the surrounding area...

The vastness of the landscape is what impresses me most, I think.  Everything is just so huge, without ever appearing pretentious.

Sneakers the Wonderdog, who seems to love the ocean as much as I do, often accompanies me on these meanderings when she is here, and frequently swims with me in these waters, touted online as the "warmest north of the Carolinas".

Yesterday, we walked towards the lighthouse in old St Peters Harbour, and stopped along the way to admire (chase) some large herons who were doing a little evening fishing in the estuary near the lighthouse "pond". (Whereas I am impressed with big skies, she is impressed with big birds!)

The water was delightfully warm and peaceful, and the view of the old lighthouse from there was astounding.  As I did not have my camera with me, I wanted to come back the next day to take some photos.

Of course, an iPhone doesn't really do it justice, and I am never able to capture the wildlife, though I did manage to take a few pics tonight of two herons who -- rather than flying off when Sneakers and I approached -- made like sticks and sat very still at the top of some old, dead trees. 

My doggie didn't spot them, but I did! :-)

It's my seventh summer on the Island now, and my sixth here in our house on the north shore... I'm frequently amazed at the ever-changing tapestry of the coastline.  It's as if the artist is mulling over the finished product, and keeps adding new bits, or removing what she's changed her mind about: A little less gold here, a little more rust there, some taller grass here to add texture and depth, and some shading there to enhance the appearance of light.....

The result of all this wind- and water-induced shifting about is an endless delight to the eyes as the outdoor gallery constantly features new works by the same artist on a favourite theme!

Much has been written and discussed lately about Airbnb, the self-professed "rent out your spare room for a little extra cash" website and app.

Not all of the commentary has been flattering. Home wrecking incidents and competition for affordable housing are highlighted, and some local governments are imposing heavy (and in my opinion unfair) restrictions on hosting.

Personally, I think that – – done "right" – – Airbnb is a great way to build community and make the world a kinder, smaller, safer and more respectful place.

Here are some of my top reasons for hosting on Airbnb…

Meet Interesting People

Over the past several years, we've had the privilege of hosting a variety of noteworthy visitors, including an engineer working on the island runway extension at the airport I fly out of in Toronto, two retired biologists (ornithologists), a group of Polish astronomy students, and a PhD student working on the Hadron collider. We've also had our share of artists and musicians hoping to be inspired by new surroundings on PEI and and in Toronto, as well as travellers coming to North America for their first time and stopping in for a night or two at one of our places to rest up and get their bearings before setting out on a cross-Canada camping tour.

Whoever comes to visit, we almost always end up having some deep conversations over breakfast or before turning in at night, about the state of various world affairs.

Sharing ideas about ways to support and promote things like sustainability, feminism (and equity in general), responsible parenting and/or dog ownership and a wide range of other important topics invariably flow from these sorts of conversations.

Airbnb facilitates the sorts of "kindred spirit" relationships that no sports team or dating site could ever hope to foster!

Share Favourite Local Hangouts

Another reason I enjoy hosting on Airbnb is that I get to share some of my favourite places in Canada with others who have not yet discovered them.

​Whether it's where to have dinner, or the best place to catch a beautiful sunrise or sunset, as a lifelong Torontonian and an avid wanna-be PEIslander, I am fairly knowledgable about both locales, which works out well for visitors trying to get a sense of what they should do with their limited local time.

I'm always eager to share my favorite, less-touristy hotspots with both our Toronto and PEI visitors, and get a real kick out of other people getting as excited about a place as I have been when they, too, discover it.

Support the Local Economy

People who use Airbnb tend to be people who would not necessarily use a more traditional hotel, either because they can't afford it, or because they prefer a more personal, authentic accommodation experience. And so I feel like hosting brings spenders into town who might otherwise not be here.

At the very least, they have to buy food/visit local restaurants while staying, and, often – – as in the case of the antique and curio-hunter staying in my kids' play house tonight – – they buy a lot more while traveling.

Since I provide essentials and a few little frills at all my listings, I am also pumping money into the local economy that might otherwise not have been spent.

Practice and Develop Life Skills

Running a side hustle like renting a spare room on Airbnb allows one to develop a number of important skills. First and foremost, I love hospitality and the art presentation, two skills I learned by necessity the summer before my mother died.

Painfully uncomfortable and often nauseous from either the cancer or the toxic chemo she was taking to buy herself a few more months to get her affairs in order, my mother spent much of her final summer on earth tucked into a sleeping bag on a fold-out lawnchair nestled into a corner of the garden she loved so much. I returned to Toronto the summer of '94 from a stint working at a hotel in southern Germany, where I had learned about presentation at a mid- to high-end restaurant on site. I quickly put these skills to use preparing small, tasty drinks and light meals, enticingly presented, for my mother, while as she/we played host to various friends and work colleagues of hers who had come to basically pay their last respects before she finally moved into palliative care at Toronto Grace that fall.

​Hosting through Airbnb some 20 years later has helped me to revive these skills and honour the memory of my mother as I prepare artfully designed breakfast services for my various guests.

Even when we have visitors availing themselves of more basic, "self-serve" accommodations, I always prepare a nice breakfast basket and fresh flowers (when available) to make the first impression pleasing to the eye. These frequently get rave reviews, and I relish helping make people's stay a delight.

Developing one's ability to be a great host is a skill which I feel is easily transferrable to many other parts of one's personal and professional life.

Imagine if we all treated one another in our day-to-day lives as valued guests in our personal space… How much kinder a place could the world become?!

I also feel like being an Airbnb host it helps me refine my critical thinking and diplomacy skills: As a host I constantly need to assess the safety and feasibility of a situation. For example, should I accept this particular booking request or are these people just looking for a place to party?

I read reviews, research guest profiles, and – – if needed – – craft carefully-worded, diplomatic messages inviting new users to flesh out of their profiles and consider including a personal picture of themselves rather than their pet Chihuahua, in order to establish trust within the Airbnb community.

And as I am reading those user reviews, I consider how well I myself behave when I am a guest; am I respectful? Quiet? Tidy?

​When Airbnb offers me options like "instant book" (which strike me as tailored to encouraged quick turnover and impersonal service) I develop the resistance to the temptation to make a quicker buck by rejecting that option, so that I can maintain the integrity of personal, clear communication between myself and my would-be guests before manually accepting any reservation request.

Become a Mentor Parent

This summer, my kids caught the Airbnb bug: Spurred on initially by the thought of making a few extra bucks for spending money, they pimped out their new Playhouse on Airbnb.

While the charm of being hosted by a 12-year-old monozygotic twins paid dividends with guests, my kids were learning valuable people skills and collaboration in return, both transferrable in the "real world".

We've had many conversations over the past few months about what it means to be a good host. As I have learned and continue to learn from my own experiences and from other, fellow hosts, hosting through Airbnb has helped me guide my young entrepreneurs in this learning.

Pay for the Extras

A lot of people think you can make buckets of money off Airbnb. And in some contexts you can. (Take, for instance, those who purchase multiple properties for the sole purpose of accommodating such short term rentals in cities were demand is high, or if you happen to have a spare room in a city like Boston, which has the highest hotel rates in America.) But if you are doing things as they were originally intended, that is, renting out "extra space" in your own home periodically, and you live in a more "normal" city, then the fiscal payout can be negligible.

By the time I buy the extra pillowcases and towels, refresh the flowers and/or buy the baskets to display the snack or breakfast items, pay taxes on my extra income (yes, I claim it like an idiot!), there is not that much left for "fun money". And there are some days when cleaning up after my guests and preparing perfection for the next ones seems considerably more of a time-consuming chore than the few dollars I make off the side hustle are worth.

​On the other hand, if you do rent often, you can, over time, make enough money to save up for special projects or alleviate the burden of those little extras we all enjoy but most of us can't really afford. Some of the things I've paid for with Airbnb earnings outside our regular budget include dinner out with my girlfriend, shows and musicals, ice cream and other outings with my kids, car rental while traveling, and a playhouse for my kids (almost).

​Now I'm saving up for a deck for my music cabin on PEI! :-)

It frustrates me when those who embrace and participate in creative disruptions like Airbnb are penalized. On PEI, for example, you have to be registered with the tourism board to run a bed-and-breakfast. The official reasoning behind us government cash grab is that they want to ensure an excellent user experience, since their economy still have a late depends on tourism.

But how do you meet the standards of such an operation with things like a play house without electricity or running water that is never the less in-demand? (The treehouse my boys and I stayed in earlier this summer – – also without running water, and no breakfast offer – – was doing a booming business at $30 a night!)

Besides, with almost exclusively five-star ratings, what is the tourism board really worried about? (on Airbnb, guests are strongly encouraged to rate their hosts anonymously in areas such as communication, cleanliness and overall value, so if someone is running a less than stellar operation, they won't be in business for long, even without the tourism board meddling in their affairs!)

It seems to me that there is room in the economy for both five star hotels and five star Airbnb listings. Someone who is bringing a sleeping bag and paying $22 a night to stay in a playhouse wasn't going to pay $125 at the official B&B up the road anyway, and those who are staying at the "official" hotels, are not being negatively affected by their Airbnb-surfing counterparts.

And in the meantime, ideas are exchanged along with smiles and often outstanding hospitality, making the world a smaller, kinder, safer, smarter and more creative place – – even for kids!

This has been the summer of comings and goings on PEI; kids left at different times, with some overlap of visiting friends and also Tats, and now, finally, some time to myself at the end!

These various visits have resulted in a little more driving than usual, most recently, a necessary trip to Moncton, as Tats, who could only spare a weekend for the Island this summer due to school, couldn't find a flight home from Ch'town.

We decided to make a road trip of it with Alex and Sneakers in tow, and do a little geocaching along the way.

After a fabulous lunch at the Landmark Cafe (officially my new favourite restaurant on the South Shore, BTW -- but make reservations, it gets busy!), we made our way to the gateway village where I took a nap, Sneakers had a run and a pee, and Tatsy and Alex played on the playground. 

​We also stopped in for the obligatory Cows ice cream and picked up some chocolate covered potato chips for Tats' work/school chums before joining the lineup of cars waiting to pay good money to get off the island!

Once in New Brunswick, we did a little more geocaching, and then raced to the airport to drop Tats off for her 8-o-clock flight back to YYZ.

Where to Sleep?

Knowing I probably wouldn't have it in me to do the long drive back home to PEI's north shore again in the same day, I had planned ahead and hunted around for a relatively affordable place to spend the night.

One of the things I love about AirBnB is the ability to find unique and interesting places to sleep, on the cheap! I figured, if I can find a $30 tree house in Crapaud, then surely there must exist a spot for a 12 year old boy, a rambunctious dog, and an old lady to spend the night!!

Sure enough, a search only a few weeks prior to our travel date turned up a barn just outside of Moncton. For $20, Alex, Sneakers and I would be dry (and safe?) for the night.

​The property at Indian Mountain is newly owned by Melanie, a young gal in the film industry, who envisions a large, self sustaining gathering space.  She proudly showed off her property, pointing out where the berry bushes had been planted, and illustrating some of her future plans.
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She's already begun renovating; the upstairs of the barn has had one wall almost entirely replaced with a large panel of windows that looks out over the back of the property, towards the woodlot and pond. Also upstairs are two punching bags, several small tents and a hammock, the ambiance enhanced by strings of Christmas lights hung here and there. 

Downstairs is a "bar" and a large open area where just last week, Melanie told me, they had a DJ and set up a screen on which people were playing "old school Nintendo".

Seems like a pretty cool space!

Sleeping Arrangements, Starlight and Kittens

The idea on the property is that people can just pitch their tent -- if they have one -- anywhere inside or outside of the barn, and use the facilities on site (Mel was just in the process of installing a shower the night we stayed over). Lucky for us, Melanie let us use a spare room in the small house next to the barn -- we hauled our sleeping bags onto mattress there, and set up a little "nest" for Sneakers next to our bed.

Before turning in for a restless night, both Alex and Sneakers discovered the two barn kittens that lived on the property. Curious little cats, they were not deterred by an overenthusiastic dog, and held their own, offering in no uncertain terms to scratch Sneakers' eye out if she didn't back off!

Alex and Sneakers slept pretty much all the way to the Bridge, and I sustained myself with the promise of a nice, long nap in the hammock later that afternoon!

As we approached the Bridge, I saw a sign that announced breakfast was being served at the restaurant on the conservation ctre just before the Bridge, and eager for something more substantial than the emergency snacks in our car cooler, I turned off the highway and into the parking lot, arousing Alex from his passenger seat slumbers with my change in driving direction and pace.
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Jourimain Nature Centre

The large park that precedes the Confederation Bridge crossing was one I'd not heard of before, and I was delighted to find this space: There are trails for walking, and a beach at the base of the bridge from which one can (and we did) take some incredible photos.

As tide was out, and it was quite early in the day, we let Sneakers off leash, and she and Alex splashed about on the beach, hunting for seashells. Alex and I found a small sand dollar -- a rare find -- and I tucked it away carefully in one pocket of my pants, where it was soon crushed when I jammed my phone in there, forgetting it was already holding precious cargo!

After a nice time at the beach, we parked under a tree and set Sneakers up on a cozy bed in the back seat, windows open more than a crack. Then Alex and I walked through the interpretive centre and into the restaurant to enjoy some eggs and pancakes before leaving New Brunswick.

Argyle Shore... Again!

​We had stopped at the red shore the day before with Tats, only to discover tide was in, so there was no "beach", and the stairs led directly into the ocean! Today our timing was a little better, and Sneakers, Alex and I were able to enjoy a nice walk along the rocky shoreline before  climbing back into the car for the final leg of our trip home.

While I don't enjoy driving as much as I used to, and find chauffeuring a bit of a chore, I did enjoy the opportunity for this particular mini-road-trip of sorts. Spending quality time with some of my few favourite people in the world and discovering new travel treasures like the barn and the beach at the bridge are things that make the hassle of driving worth it!

So, sleeping in an 8x8 "room on stilts" with two silly, kicking 12-year-olds was perhaps not my most brilliant plan ever, in terms of relaxation techniques while on vacation. Though in fairness, one cannot say it wasn't an adventure!
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Perusing the AirBnB listings on PEI recently, I came across a budget listing for a no-frills "treehouse" in Crapaud, near the lovely, little village of Victoria-by-the-Sea.  

Knowing the boys would love it, I booked one night.

After camp on Monday, we set off for Crapaud, making a brief stop en route to pick up a giant pillow which I had scored on Kijiji for the boys' playhouse which was due to be delivered to our property in St Peter's Harbour later in the week.
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I had forgotten how hilly the south-west part of the Island was, and I enjoyed the scenery while the boys slept in the car, tired out from their first full day of camp.

The lovely thing about PEI is that everything is pretty close, so within about 40 minutes, we had arrived in the general vicinity of the treehouse, and as the boys woke up from their powernap, I tried to divine the somewhat sketchy directions included with my reservation. 

​We soon found the property, and sure enough, there was the treehouse!!
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A Japanese exchange student staying in the main house checked us in and showed us the 2-piece washroom we could use, and then we climbed up the ladder to our room for the night.  

The boys eagerly set about arranging the room: Organizing sleeping bags, pillows (including the new giant one we had acquired earlier in town) and various personal belongings they had brought with them for the night on the hooks and little "shelves" that lined the inside of our rustic hut amongst the trees.

We also had a little kitten climb the ladder and visit us.  (After some petting, she just curled up outside the cabin door.)

We read a few chapters of our current read-aloud together (Deborah Ellis' Sacred Leaf), and then attempted to sleep.

I will say that the mattress itself (a reasonably roomy, high quality,  inflatable affair) was considerably more comfortable than I had anticipated.  It was my two restless bedmates who were the problem.  Every time they moved, the mattress squeaked.

And also I had to pee.  And I was not going to haul my corpulant, over-40 self down a rickety old ladder at 11:57 p.m.  And 2 a.m.  And again at 4:38 a.m.  No way, no how.  (Fortunately, I had anticipated that particular problem, and had done some advance planning accordingly, the details of which I will spare the reader.)

And there were mosquitos. (Not a lot, but enough bother a finicky sleeper.)

I debated whether or not to fish around in the catch-all bin we had brought with us for some mosquito repellent,  and opted for some ear plugs instead, pulling the sleeping bag up over my head.
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In between tossing and turning, I surfed Kijiji for deals and posted random photos with uninspired hashtags on Instagram.

Finally, blessedly, the morning arrived, another beautiful sunshiny day o PEI, and I roused the two sleeping bunnies to pack up their gear and get back in the car for the ride back into town for Day Two of Art camp.  But not before using the real washroom, in the main house!!!

The ride back to Ch'town was uneventful; we enjoyed watching the pastoral scenery out the window while munching on cut-up peaches and strawberries and little boxes of dry cereal I had prepared ahead of time as a sort of en-route breakfast.

I wouldn't do it again, I don't think, and I am desperately looking forward to my real bed tonight.  But my one night in a treehouse was worth it: A fun and affordable mini-adventure for all!!