Knights Inn Flesherton
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- Free parking
- Pets allowed
- Continental Breakfast
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 ...
... next. Death, I expect, must often feel like that; when the end of life finally nears, one must wonder how it happened in such a rush, how did life go by so fast, even though the majority of days were no doubt ruled by a lethal boredom. The last moments on earth are perhaps the fiercest and angriest and greediest of them all, as we are inevitably betrayed by time in the end, a fact which should rightly provoke a final passion. Our lives are all ...
... history of travelling grows long and the roads are thus littered with ghosts. You know, I bet if Franziska could have been there having hot chocolate with us, we would have all got along together famously, we would have had a lot to talk about. Probably. *That is, until the other day. A guest mistook me for someone he went to school with, I think in a town near here called Durham. Yes, said guest rather looked like he had seen a ghost, so I gave him some comp parking to cheer him up ...