Over the holidays, Isy took the train down from Gatineau to spend a few days in Southwestern Ontario. With Detroit just across the river and many other nearby possibilities, we would certainly be on the move during her short visit.

One thing that had to be done was showing Isy one of my favourite cities, Toledo. One of the reasons being that my parents are ridiculous and still question me to high hell if I want to use their vehicle, but on the other hand, they'll let me use it no questions asked as long as I'm with a woman. The other reason was more normal, in that Isy had never been to The Buckeye State.

Time for her to get oh so close to twenty states visited as Ohio would be state #19.

It had been nearly a decade since I'd last been to Toledo, something that I easily remember from a post-it note on my computer monitor, reminding me to not let it be another 10 years.

Since that 2011 visit with Roachie to see minor league baseball, I've really ramped up my efforts to see lighthouses. So while you might find it crazy that I've never visited an Ohio lighthouse, today was the day to rectify that!

The Manhattan Range Lights, so named for the village of Manhattan long ago annexed by Toledo, were used to mark the inside portion of the Maumee Bay Channel which leads from Toledo's Maumee River out to Lake Erie.

Built in 1918, by the 1980s the Coast Guard was looking to sell these towers. H Hansen Industries were able to get them for free though, because of their ability to remove and transport the towers themselves.

The Manhattan Range Rear Lighthouse stood 83 feet tall, while the Range Front Lighthouse stood 41 feet tall. H Hansen Industries weren't able to take the entirety of either tower, therefore only the top 20-odd feet stand here in their parking lot today.

Speaking of this peculiar lighthouse location, Isy was confused as we were driving along this street in North Toledo beside homes and industry, when I then told her we were only a couple hundred metres from a lighthouse. Turning into the parking lot for H Hansen Machining Industries, here it was, without any water in sight and with a looming metal fabrication shop behind us, haha.

It felt like a Springsteen song was about to start playing and a bunch of blue collar dudes carrying lunch pails would soon exit the shop, wondering why I was in the way taking pictures of a lighthouse, when they were tired from a long day of fabricating and fixing ship rivets.

I got back in the car and we kept it moving.

After rescuing both lighthouses in the eighties, H Hansen Industries were offered money for the front light by the owners of the Lighthouse Cafe sometime in the 2000s. And so, the Manhattan Range Front Lighthouse was moved again, 6.5 miles (10.5 km) down the road to 2605 Broadway Street.

Unfortunately the Lighthouse Cafe went belly up by 2014, but not for lack of trying in my opinion. I'm at a loss for what would attract diners more than an authentic historic lighthouse!

Another bar would open in the space afterwards, but after its closure soon after, the restaurant and front lighthouse were purchased by the nearby Toledo Zoo. The zoo would turn the restaurant into offices for administration; and while they also painted the lighthouse, they haven't announced any further plans for it.

To celebrate what I hope is the first (and second) of many Ohio lighthouses, we rolled over to Adams Street and the solid all you can eat brunch at Manhattan's Pub, with complimentary mimosa, bottomless coffee, house-made kielbasa, mac n' cheese, plus made-to-order omelette and waffle stations, plus ham, prime rib and turkey carving stations.

Neither of us could complain.

Another thing I wanted to do in Toledo was photograph the landmarks I've never had much time to stop and admire.

Having passed through here on a Greyhound, I couldn't believe my eyes as here stood this wide-open classic old railway hotel adorned with a painted advertisement of rooms by the day or week. Making a mental note back when I was riding said bus, I was able to get out on Knapp Street today.

Built in 1909, the nearby train/bus station that brought me on the bus, also brought customers to the Park Hotel. This used to be a place of fine linens and choice furnishings, but it fell on hard times like many small hotels throughout the rust belt. By the 1990s and into the early 2000s, people were staying here for $65/week, while the police were familiar with some of the residents and three residents had died within the decade.

The Park Hotel closed in 2001, but was soon after purchased by a Hameed Kahala who hoped to reopen it and live his downtown dream. Mr. Kahala saw that they built a $39-million ballpark and bought the kool-aid that new stadiums improve everything around, but the good times never spread this far south of downtown.

Bars and clubs would come and go from the ground floor while the apartments upstairs remained unoccupied. Mr. Kahala's dream died somewhere along the way, but the Park Hotel still seemed like it would be renovated as late as 2020.

Unfortunately, articles in 2021 and early 2022 state that the Lucas County Housing Authority (LCHA) plans to "redevelop the Park Hotel" and in a funny use of the word redevelop, they mean tear the whole thing down and build a new four-story apartment building on the property.

Across the street from the Park Hotel stands the Hotel Royal. The Hotel Royal looks like it might have a better ending than the Park Hotel, as it was bought in 2016 and the historic preservation-minded owner has slowly brought it back to life.

It's supposed to open as a boutique hotel/commercial space/apartments in late 2022.

Another place I wanted to check out was the Hotel Lorraine, which was ordered closed just the previous year due to the financial problems of the owners and the living conditions found inside. (Many news and review websites talk about the mice, cockroaches, and bedbugs.)

At the time of its closure, the Hotel Lorraine still rented rooms by the night, but four Trip Advisor reviews give a less than favourable impression. The Lorraine was also home to 40 full-time residents, who were given a week to find somewhere new to live when the hotel was ordered closed on Monday, September 30, 2019.

The Hotel Lorraine may not sit empty for long, as already in 2022 a group has swooped in to change the zoning designation, with plans for a 105-room hotel, a speakeasy lounge and a rooftop patio. I don't know how much I'll ever need a speakeasy lounge or a Marriott hotel - they're apparently in talks with Marriott - but I pray they keep both of their spectacular signs.

I also wish it didn't have to come to this and they would have simply performed better maintenance for the low income residents who used to live at the Hotel Lorraine.

Another building I wanted to check out was my favourite Toledo building, the Pythian Castle.

Built in 1890, the Pythian Castle has been vacant since a 1974 fire. I always thought it was going to simply languish here, thankfully longer than vacant buildings in other cities, but with so much vacancy in downtown Toledo, who was ever going to come along and save an old building where most of the floors were missing.

On a glorious day in 2016, I saw that the city's land bank had sold the building to David Ball for $300. Ball is the owner a Toledo property management company that's been involved in renovating historic buildings. Not one to trust developers, I've happily been wrong so far, as I follow along with the fantastic Pythian Castle revival on their facebook page.

Today I was happy to see the progress in person.

Tired of driving from point to point, I parked by Toledo's AAA ballpark and wondered if Isy wanted to brave the cold temps for a walkabout downtown.

After all of the joy of seeing the Pythian Castle renovation, I was saddened by this site along Summit Street where they had an entire block of old buildings - which looked to be in fine repair - blocked off with what looked like demolition fencing. Cities do a lot of dumb shit, but were they really going to take down this entire block of attractive, serviceable buildings?

Thankfully the answer is no. In an interesting development and one that I'd fear would fail, one company acquired all of these buildings, then set out to renovate them into lofts for those wanting to move downtown; along with larger spaces for small companies and restaurants. The first Bobcat Bonnie's outside Michigan was the second tenant to come along and occupy space here, preceded by Northwestern Mutual Inc..

One thing that was coming down was the old Hotel SeaGate, aka Toledo's Holiday Inn/Ramada.

The Hotel SeaGate closed in 2009 after frozen pipes burst and flooded the interior. The plan was only to close the hotel for a short while, but by 2011, the owners still couldn't open the doors. The county wanted to move a ballroom (huh?) there in 2011, which must've kept those owners working a bit longer, but eventually they simply sold the old hotel to the county in 2014. After trying to open it as a hotel again, they eventually gave up by 2016 and planned to demolish it, but discovered there was asbestos.

So in 2017, they tried to only use the outside shell and gut the iconic piece of Toledo's skyline, but that never happened and by 2018, squatters were now a problem. Finally in 2019, the county made up its mind to demolish the Hotel SeaGate, but as you can see it was still standing here in early 2020.

It wouldn't be until June of 2021 that they finally had a ball and chain whacking away at the top, slowly taking down the building to build a pocket park.

Some may say I've painted a pretty grim picture of Toledo so far, especially on this day of gray skies and cold temps.

Isy was loving it though and confused with how folks say Toledo is something to totally avoid. This was helped along by things I didn't show in this update as well, such as the stately homes we drove by and the sections where the Maumee River or Swan Creek would appear.

It was time to ramp it up though by heading to one of Toledo's crown jewels, the Toledo Museum of Art. I'd never been here prior to this, but it's famous enough that I figured it had to be worthwhile.

One of the clues that the Toledo Museum of Art was legit was the fact that it actually caused Michigan's native son, Nailhed, to say something nice about somewhere in Ohio.

He and Sabrina had been here just a few days prior and he told me about how the Toledo Museum had purchased three sets of medieval arcades from monasteries located in the south of France, then brought them over and created a room called The Medieval Cloister inside the museum.

He made the "it was legit" face when telling me about this. I in turn made the same face while walking around The Medieval Cloister.

In another area, I loved this 7-foot by 11-foot ceramic piece titled Trolldom Teku Maku Maya Kon by Katsuyo Aoki.

And oh, y'know, just a Van Gogh.

Wheat Fields with Reaper, Auvers.

Gorgeous tin-glazed earthenware basin from Valencia, Spain. Created 1470-1475.

18th-19th century Moroccan plate with geometric patterns.

I made sure to call Isy over and tell her that I knew all about things like this, since of course, (dramatic pause), I'd been to Morocco.

Her resulting eye roll was up there in terms of her biggest eye rolls during our relationship.

I definitely have to agree with Nailhed that the Toledo Museum of Art is worth seeing.

In addition to Toledo, Isy and I also went out for Ethiopian at World Marathon in Windsor, while also heading over to Detroit for a short tour around downtown.

I figured this was as good a time as any to check out the renovated Metropolitan building's rooftop bar, The Monarch.

If ever there was a place to spend the money on a cocktail, this was it.

As an added bonus, it was a chilly night 14 stories up, but with an outside fire pit the two of us were totally fine out in the 30-degree night. Meanwhile, everyone else stayed inside and only came out to take a few pictures then retreat.

Having the Metropolitan roof to ourselves just like old times? Not bad. Not bad a'tall.

(Although, the first time I was up here involved some Joose in 2007, so maybe it was a bit wilder that day, lol.)

Coming down from the Metropolitan, we met up with some friends at a new-age arcade bar, and then the old school, Checker Bar.

They eventually left to go check out the abandoned Detroit Fire Department training headquarters, which for some reason I decided Isy and I should skip and get home - except it totally would have been a funny and unprepared introduction to nighttime Detroit exploration. Whoops.

Isy and I then just missed the tunnel bus, and with Transit Windsor only coming every hour, we decided to get some food at a bar I said I liked - except that they now had a tater menu and everything was way too bright. About 10 minutes into our meal, I mentioned how I couldn't believe that the Anchor Bar had been updated and sterilized and it then clicked, "ohhhh, yeah, I was wondering because this doesn't really seem like your type of place."

Haha.

Soon enough it was time for her to return north from the Windsor Train Station.

A good couple of days down in Southwest Ontario and the Midwest.