The 3rd Attempt

 The old

The new

This time we finally concluded that there is no village as such, but their tools and handicrafts and Mennonite lifestyle are accessible to the tourists mostly through shops around the area of St.Jacobs.

Keerthi was overjoyed at the options for shopping: stones, artwork, glasswork, handicrafts, ornaments and clothes on sale. Beside the Grand river, there was once a mill, which has been converted into a shopping arcade cum museum. There was a quilt gallery, a maple museum, and  some random collection of items on electricity, old hardware and Canadian history. The find of the day was an ancient piece of Omega watch, round, mechanism visible and requires winding a spring for running. It can be worn around a neck, but should rather be showcased.

At a rail gallery, we saw a model of the area showing the train line nearby going through a tunnel. I was very enthusiastic to walk though a train tunnel.... reminded me of Ruskin Bond's story, but as we walked along the tracks for some distance we realized that the tunnel just served the purpose of beautification of the model (and there wasn't one in reality). We walked back and further along the tracks, and reached a bridge over the river. Built in old times, on metallic piers and girders. The gap between the rail tracks were wide enough for a leg to slip through if careless. There were no railings at the sides. The water was not too clear, but there were large fishes right below the water surface. I kind of liked the place, and sat on the warm rails for some time wondering what would happen if a train chugs in onto the bridge, but nothing of the sort happened.

 Bull frogs. They place themselves at regular intervals along water bodies and make a hell of a sound every now and then

The Mennonite Church at St. Jacobs

After a grand lunch in dinner time, we proceeded to the last of the Covered Bridges of Ontario. We didn't realize that it would be so far off.  The bridge disappointed me somewhat because the setting had changed over the years, from being surrounded by farmlands a hundred years ago to posh condos in the present day. We sat in the grass by the Grand River and chatted for a long time. Finally at 9.15pm, Keerthi wondered if we could stay over somewhere nearby and continue to Elora Gorge the next day as planned. However, in a battle of 'less impracticality', this plan lost out, and we had to cycle back 23 kilometres in the dark. After 1.5 hours of cycling, the Columbia Lake Village lights were finally visible above the horizon, like a mothership to which two scouts were returning. Keerthi was overjoyed at having made it finally. But she exhausted herself so much, that she couldn't accompany us the next day even on car.