Experiencing the Sublime

How Niagara Falls Left Me in Awe (with excerpts from Alain de Botton’s The Art of Travel)

A Weekend by the Falls

I could hardly believe that I was about to see these world-famous waterfalls. We took a short flight from New York to Buffalo, a historic city on the eastern shores of Lake Erie, known for its rich architectural heritage and, of course, its proximity to Niagara Falls. Beyond the excitement of meeting a dear friend for the first time, we had an entire weekend to spend in this dreamy destination.

Our stay at a charming boutique hotel, just steps from the Niagara River, set the perfect tone. From there, we took a leisurely stroll along the rapids, crossing the bridge to Goat Island, where the thundering presence of the falls grew ever closer. With so much to see and do, we quickly realized a weekend wouldn’t be enough—we had to choose our adventures wisely.

To get a sweeping introduction to the area, we hopped on a trolley tour around the Niagara Falls State Park. A stop at the Tourist Center led us to a kind gentleman who helped us seal our itinerary: the Cave of the Winds experience that afternoon, followed by the Maid of the Mist boat tour the next morning. With our plans set, the adventure was about to begin.

Drenched in the Waterfall

The Cave of the Winds tour began with a short film about the history of the falls before leading us deep into the gorge via a cramped elevator ride. At the bottom, a brief walk through a tunnel opened up to the outdoors, revealing a series of red wooden walkways that climbed gradually toward the waterfall.

Even from the lowest level, the sheer force of the water was undeniable. Every person walking back from the falls was drenched—a preview of what awaited us ahead. Determined, I climbed higher and higher, eager to reach the very top of the deck. But as I ascended, I could imagine the waterfall amused at my tiny figure struggling against its wind and spray, clad in a bright yellow poncho. The higher I went, the stronger the gusts became—water whipping against my face, my steps growing unsteady as the powerful mist seeped through my clothes.

I never made it to the top. The wind was too strong, the cold water relentless. But standing there, as close as I could get, face to face with Bridal Veil Falls, was breathtaking. Little did I know, this was just a glimpse of what awaited me the next day on the boat tour…

In the Presence of the Sublime

After breakfast, we headed back to the park early for the Maid of the Mist tour. I wasn’t expecting much, thinking that it was just a simple boat ride along the Niagara River to get a better view of the three waterfalls: American Falls, Bridal Veil Falls, and the biggest of them all, Horseshoe Falls. This time, decked out in blue ponchos, we boarded a large steamboat and set off, cruising past the first two falls before making our way toward the Horseshoe.

The boat kept moving forward until we were practically right at the base of this enormous waterfall. Everyone aboard the boat started to scream in excitement, including me. The curved shape of the falls (also the reason it’s called Horseshoe Falls) made the giant steamboat seem so small, the water looming, a massive white cascade crashing down as if it were about to engulf us. It was as if time had slowed, the roar of the waterfall drowning out everything else.

I gripped the railings tightly, my heart racing with the wild churning of the river as the waterfall’s force rocked the boat. Before I knew it, I started tearing up—overcome by a mix of fear and wonder that’s hard to put into words.

And as soon as the boat turned around, I snapped back to reality, feeling both amazed and a bit overwhelmed by what I’d just experienced. That was the sublime, indeed.

“Many landscapes were beautiful, but they were not sublime. A landscape could arouse the sublime only when it suggested power—a power greater than that of humans, and threatening to them. Sublime places embodied a defiance to man's will.

Sublime places repeat in grand terms a lesson that ordinary life typically introduces viciously: that the universe is mightier than we are, that we are frail and temporary and have no alternative but to accept limitations on our will; that we must bow to necessities greater than ourselves.”

A Humbling Encounter

In a time of uncertainty, when I felt adrift, this encounter brought a humbling clarity. I’m thankful for the reminder that I’m just a tiny speck in this grand universe—that I might never fully understand its order and that’s okay. That sometimes, in the presence of such majesty, all you can do is tread lightly and go with the flow.

By the end of the trip, I finished Alain de Botton’s The Art of Travel. As I replayed my experience like scenes from a film, I realized how travel bridges the wisdom of books with the raw lessons of lived experience—how it makes abstract ideas tangible.

I’ve seen many beautiful places, and will see many more, but Niagara Falls left an imprint I won’t forget.

“If our lives are dominated by a search for happiness, then few activities reveal as much about the dynamics of this quest—in all its ardour and paradoxes—than our travels. They express, however inarticulately, an understanding of what life might be about, outside of the constraints of work and of the struggle for survival. Yet rarely are they considered to present philosophical problems—that is, issues requiring thought beyond the practical. We are inundated with advice on where to travel to, but we hear little of why and how we should go, even though the art of travel seems naturally to sustain a number of questions neither so simple nor so trivial, and whose study might in modest ways contribute to an understanding of what the Greek philosophers beautifully termed eudaimonia, or ‘human flourishing’.”

The Art of Travel, Alain de Botton

“Do not be surprised that things have not gone your way he declares: the universe is greater than you. Do not be surprised that you do not understand why they have not gone your way for you cannot fathom the logic of the universe. See how small you are next to the mountains. Accept what is bigger than you and what you do not understand. The world may appear illogical to you, but it does not follow that it is illogical per se. Our lives are not the measure of all things: consider sublime places for a reminder of human insignificance and frailty.”

---

You might also like: