I had the pleasure of staying in a REAL, fancy-pants tree house a few weeks ago, basically living out a childhood fantasy in a very adult fashion. There were beers, and epic feasts, and I might have screamed over spiders and accidentally dumping dishwater on my feet. Never mind the fact it was like, REALLY dark outside, guys. (Also, was anyone else under the impression that “tree house” should be one word?)
Anyone remember that episode of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air where Will goes to the tree house to console Carlton, needs to use the bathroom, and Carlton responds with, “Down the hallway, to the left”? (Great, I tried to find this scene and ended up watching 10 minutes of ultimate Fresh Prince moments. Thanks, YouTube.) I always wanted that experience. And I got it.
In the Upper Laurentians of Quebec, near Grand Lake Nominingue, the folks at Les toits du monde are creating some of the coolest accommodations experiences in Canada. Like this tree house.
The owners have already set up a fully functional tipi, and during my visit, they were wrapping up the final details on a yurt. Next up: a hobbit house. SERIOUSLY. Plus they’re some of the nicest, friendliest people you’ll ever meet.
We were delighted with the prospect of being FORCED to unplug our gadgets—no WiFi, and there were certainly no power outlets. The tree house is about a 10-minute walk into the woods, and so there’s also an emphasis on being eco-friendly. The toilet is compost, for example.
We arrived late afternoon and spent some time exploring the area, snapping photos and being bloggers. I was delighted to simply stretch out on the futon and read my book, without even the hum of electricity to bother me (there is a lighting solar panel).
After picking up some supplies in town (note: minimal English spoken here), Ryan and Seattle got busy preparing the most epic feast you could possibly prepare on a two-burner propane stone. We had thick hamburgers, roasted sweet potatoes with onions and bacon, and stuffed red peppers. I read my book while they prepared food, and offered to do the dishes afterwards. Little did I know that without running water, cleaning dishes (especially those with bacon fat) is about an all-evening endeavor. I shook my fist at the sky.
We had planned on setting up the fire pit outside, but when night rolled around, my brave resolve fell apart. Like I said, it’s DARK out there. Like, really, really dark. And so we decided to roast giant marshmallows in the wood stove instead. The results were delicious.
We carried out the rest of the evening listening to Ryan’s interesting (read: disastrous) harmonica demonstrations and chatting and cleaning dishes. Goddamn those dishes. When it was time for bed, I settled in the loft while Zak took care of the wood stove downstairs. I awoke in the middle of the night being suffocated with the heat, and there was an unfortunate amount of boob sweat. Turns out the tree house is winter-insulated.
The next morning, our breakfast was delivered in a picnic basket via PULLEY ROPE. How freaking cool is that? PULLEY ROPE. It was the best breakfast we had on the road—fruit cups, waffles, coffee, homemade jam, and bread.
And then I had to do the dishes.