"It's fun watching grown adults see the treehouse for the first time," our host at Les Toits du Monde explained in thick Quebecois-English. "They are like children when they see it. Like Peter Pan and the Lost Boys or something." We all nodded in agreement, having experienced that same reaction when we had arrived the night before: Candice and Seattle giddily scaled the loft, as Ryan and I snapped away at the empty room before its cleanliness was obliterated by vomiting suitcases and backpacks.
A standing bar perched prominently on one midair island, across a cable bridge that swung wildly when being traversed. The treehouse itself was well stocked, and featured a manual shower, propane range burners in the kitchen, and (my favorite) a cast iron stove in the corner, guaranteed to keep the house warm, even in the dead of winter. Our stay was short—exploring Nominingue in our brief visit wasn't much of an option in the half-day we had there—but it won't be the last.