Visiting the gateway to hell

On the Monday after the wedding we drove to Niagara Falls to see the Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side. It was very cold and snowing lightly. I had booked a hotel with a guaranteed view of the Falls; still, we had no idea just how extraordinary that view would turn out to be. We dropped our luggage in our room and immediately headed downstairs to see the Falls up close.

Because it was a Monday in winter, there were very few tourists around. We walked along the footpath, peering over at the astonishing cascade of water. The noise was tremendous, a dull and constant roar. We took photographs all along the walkway from different angles. A massive amount of mist rises from the falls, creating an awesome effect. The mist is so thick that it's impossible to gauge the depth of the drop. I read somewhere that early explorers were terrified of the Falls for that reason: they were sure that hidden within that mist was the gateway to hell.

The next morning we left Canada. First, we stopped at the duty-free store for cigarettes (for me) and ice wine (for Dotty, Heather's grandmother). As we drove over the Rainbow Bridge, heading towards US Customs, Heather reminded me not to mention the wedding. She didn’t want any unnecessary trouble. We handed our passports to the woman in the Customs kiosk.
“Anything to declare?” The woman asked us. I refrained from saying, yes, we're married, and geniuses.
She peered into the car. “Any alcohol, tobacco, firearms?”
Heather told her, “We have a bottle of ice wine, a carton of cigarettes, and some food.”
“What sort of food?”
“Um, a packet of Double-stuf Oreos.”
The woman laughed. “And you didn’t bring me any? Go through. Welcome back.”