Knights Inn Flesherton
How has this hotel rated in the past?
- Continental Breakfast
- Free parking
- Pets allowed
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TripAdvisor Reviews Knights Inn Flesherton
Travel Blogs from Flesherton
... in such redundant and linear terms. And then again, it was minus twelve this morning, so the sweat froze in my hair as I ran by the lake and the lake itself was stacked at the end of the highway in planes of blue and white frozen water, unmoving, as static as a painting. I wanted to see a true winter in Canada and thereby remember the winters of my childhood, winters where the gale-force winds knocked the electricity out for days and our cars ...
... marker, signing people's keepsake flags. It was immensely fun, but also tiring in the end. A great big explosion of energy that insisted on resolving itself in the most painful way possible (I was covered in inexplicable bruises when I woke up). Finally at some point between 2 and 3 am, I went to bed by necessity as I was due back on the desk by 6:45 am. I woke up once more at 4:45 am to people yelling outside my door and, going to investigate, ...
Tonight found me staring out of the window. It was busy at work on the desk, lots of complicated issues and abrupt guests, but then again, nothing seems to matter as much now as it once did, or perhaps the winter has hardened me? All of a sudden about seven o'clock, it wasn't busy anymore and night fell and the beautiful one sky of the mountain was velvet and deep and true. The window beckoned. I stared. I was thinking about the nature of endings, about how ...
... something I wrote about once. So it is with the winter that is finishing. The old snow is now melting. Puddles expand into gritty lakes by the sides of the highways. Everything was frozen and then it wasn't, it was moving, it continues to transform. Everything is changing around me. The huge sheets of ice that have lain on the ground beneath my feet are rupturing, pulling apart and so I cannot trust my step anymore. And just as the ...
... friend. No matter where my friend goes, she finds the pale, perfect spectre of Franziska staring back at her. Franziska is a German traveller from last year who refuses to move on to new pastures: she sprints through mirrors and hangs from ceilings and generally gives my friend a tough time. How so, you may wonder? Good question, I will enlighten you. When my friend first arrived in Canada, she immediately went to work on a farm outside of Barrie as a woofer. Now, let it be ...