When you turn off the main street and around the corner of Tanner and First, a yellow monstrosity reveals itself.

When we discovered her, she was nestled in the full green leaves of late summer, gazing lazily over the Gananoque river. Her chrome yellow shone like the sun. People called it the end of the yellow brick road. We fell in love immediately.

The perfect pathway led up to the front step where an antique-style mail box, reminiscent of the 1930s, collected letters, even as less and less letters came. Even the letterbox was perfect.

The double front doors opened onto a large foyer with two staircases that would reveal the treasures of the 19th century, three story beast. The staircases separated, remnants from a time with the home was a triplex, and only met on the third floor. The full house tour involved riding this rainbow of steps.

It took an hour to get through the place and, while we played it cool, we knew we wanted it from minute one. Large open parlours, gorgeous chandeliers, copper radiators, antique furniture included, four sun porches, green from every window, the view of the river from the east side.

It was the perfect place for the world to come together. It was Pangea House.

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