Memories of Yellowpoint

For over twenty-five years, Ken and I spent a few days each April at Yellowpoint Lodge, near Ladysmith. We have such happy memories of those precious times.  

We packed the car up with books, scrabble board, wine and 'goodies' for our stay.  We had the same cabin each year, so it seemed to us like 'home away from home'. Sometimes we invited friends to stay in the cabin which adjoined ours, separated by a common door.

After a good night's sleep, it was a bit of a walk from our cabin to the Lodge.  As we meandered along the trail we encountered other guests and exchanged pleasantries.  We often came upon rabbits, deer, otters or even eagles, perched high in the tree tops.  There were Easter lilies galore and many wild roses.

As we approached the lodge, the gong rang out welcoming us to breakfast.  With much anticipation we joined the very well-behaved guests lined up either side of a long table outside the dining room, where an array of juices, cereals, prunes, yogurt, porridge and temptingly warm muffins greeted us.  Once we entered the beautiful country-style dining area:

and chose our tables, we selected from more substantial offerings of scrambled, fried or poached eggs, bacon, sausages, toast or pancakes, all accompanied by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Of course, over the years, we made many friends. 

After breakfast we often joined them in the spacious and comfortable lounge for cosy conversations held to the accompaniment of gentle classical music and the odd crackle from the fire in the giant floor-to-ceiling fireplace.  

And then there were the walks through the quiet engulfing woods or along the inviting beach.  Often we came across items of interest on the beach and one year Ken made a point of photographing some of the flotsam and jetsam we encountered.  We had much fun composing captions for the photos.

Lunch was a repeat performance of the breakfast routine. Various salads were offered, as well as delicious home-made soups and just-out-of-the-oven chunks of wholesome bread, all very nourishing and satisfying.

We returned to our cabin to light our fire for ambiance and then read, rest and play scrabble. Around 4 p.m. we began our pre-dinner glasses of wine, and, if we had friends in the adjoining cabin, we invited them to 'come through' and join us.

Once again we strolled toward the Lodge, beckoned by the dinner gong.  Supper was usually brought to our tables of eight by friendly young staff. Some evenings we sat with the same people, sometimes with new people we had met.  After dinner we enjoyed some more chit-chat around the big fireplace before returning 'home' to our cabin for some more reading or one more scrabble game.

Once snuggled up in our comfortable bed, we were lulled to sleep by the steady lapping of the waves on the beach outside the window below us and often by the contented purring of the resident (forbidden) cat on the foot of our bed.

(My niece, Dale Stofer, painted this lovely rendition of the Yellowpoint cat)

We have very fond memories of our times at Yellowpoint and are fortunate to have wonderful photos to take us back in time to enjoy it all again.