A week before the Easter vacation, I met a group of 17 french high schoolers at 4am at the Toulouse airport to count heads and distribute some 'pains au lait' before flying to Toronto, Canada for two weeks. I chanced upon a chaperone position (aka free flight) which I couldn't refuse. Back to North America, land of frozen cappuccinos, SUVs, and dollar stores.
THE photo of Canada--complete with geese
Taken from Tommy Thompson park
After a relatively hiccup-less journey, we separated to find host families and somewhere to take a nap. I was staying with a lovely retired english teacher who, by the end of the trip named herself my Canadian granny, and her perfectly fat cat Bob who purred reassuringly at me every time I woke from jetlag, when I came home, or when I wasn't giving him the attention he commanded (actually in that case he would also throw himself down with a thud). One of the Canadian professors lent me a sturdy bike and I had my freedom (nights and weekends). Days were spent touring with the class.
Just before setting off from Toulouse, I had had my bike fixed and had tasted again life being spent outside of the underground, the wasted hours of studying shoes and dodging handbags, just barely missing the closing doors or the right stop. Whenever possible in Toronto I chose bike over bus and good thing too, with those typical american portions for dinner. The first day out, I walked through the Ukrainian district (thanks Anna) to exchange my euro for canadian dollars, and before shuffling down to Toronto Lake, on through High Park to get my first view of authentic Canadian geese. I was chuffed. Even more thrilling were the squirrels.
A modern day Canadian fort?
On one of my days off, I went a few extra miles on the bike on the convenient bike trails through town, cruising through the old graveyard all the way down the Don river to the Tommy Thompson park for a grand view of Toronto's skyline and wild birdies, finishing with the beaches.
Crawford Lake
Although the temps was around zero and we saw quite a bit of rain, I reveled in every chance to trot around outdoors. We took an outing to a reconstructed Huron Native American village near a lake (as they all were), and once again I found myself being lectured about the history of Native Americans (I always tuned this out during my adolescence, but from a european perspective and just because the kids were started to nod off, I paid strict attention).
A maple syrup fire pit
Also in the schedule was a hike down Bruce Trail, apparently the oldest and longest in Canada. Some of the girls hid in the back of the bus but were eventually scouted out to be cajoled into joining the rest of us (they were the first to get back, and made sure I was aware of it). We definitely didn't go allll the way down the trail, but far enough to feel proud.
We did spend a fair amount of time taking a gander around the 'mosaic city' shopping and museum-wandering. Called a 'mosaic' because of its pieced-together ethnic structure, you could literally travel from Chinatown to Little Italy to the Greek quarter in one afternoon for a miniature tour of europe. I took almost full advantage of the fooding possibilities, no surprise.
Casa Loma, the only Canadian castle to be found
Which happened to be haunted
This room in particular
Chinatown
Greektown!
The indie Kensington Market quarter
In the Science center
(this is supposed to be my face made from water bubbles..
maybe a bit more experimenting in order)
The video games expo
(you can imagine the boys' reaction)
Inside one of the many malls
Toronto Island from the CN tower
The CN tower, which sadly lost its status as tallest
structure to a skyscraper in Dubai
Otherwise, Toronto reminded me of Chicago, being an impatient, bustling city, and also my second hometown Springfield, Missouri for the indie art-lovers. Many walls throughout the city shone smugly with quality street art and the streets were lined with galleries, titchy bookshops, and vintage clothing boutiques.
Some even accessorising with scraggly little dogs. ==>
But my favorite piece of the urban artwork, again a huge merci beaucoup to Anna for introducing me to her lovely friend Kat, was the grounds of the University of Toronto. She gave me a private student's tour, peeking around a few halls and classrooms, all the while I was giddily reminded of Oxford.
But beyond the touring and architecture, my unanticipated appreciation of Toronto and Canada developed in new connections with the kind, genuine, clever, and generous people I encountered. Several from, but not limited to, Couchsurfing, which included a unique Japanese dinner and a NY Yankees game (supplemented with the best spicy Italian sausage in the world). Others became family and are added to my 'postcard' address list. And several more reminded me just how precious a real friendship can be. I found in Toronto a third north american 'hometown', one I would love to visit again purely to see a few familiar faces.
THE stanley cup, which sadly
the leafs did not win (again) this year
So, right, how could I neglect the strongest presence in Ontario...
how about that hockey?
After a relatively hiccup-less journey, we separated to find host families and somewhere to take a nap. I was staying with a lovely retired english teacher who, by the end of the trip named herself my Canadian granny, and her perfectly fat cat Bob who purred reassuringly at me every time I woke from jetlag, when I came home, or when I wasn't giving him the attention he commanded (actually in that case he would also throw himself down with a thud). One of the Canadian professors lent me a sturdy bike and I had my freedom (nights and weekends). Days were spent touring with the class.
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