The Nightjar bar sits under the Picture House so is a logical place to go for a pre-movie drink, as was the case this Friday night. And a word out to the movie, too — Spinal Tap 2, which, pleasingly, was extremely funny and in no way diminishes the original, something definitely not always the case for many such sequels.
I seem to have a lot of pictures of people’s backs today, but at leats this one brings in the face of the guy in yellow so offers a touch more intimacy. They’re all still depicted through glass, however: which is perhaps meaningful, perhaps not. We were having a drink before going to the cinema, which stands directly above this bar, but the less said about the movie, the better.
My last day in Toronto. I could say ‘on this trip’ or I could say ‘forever’ and the fact is I don’t know at the moment, ‘cos it’s the future, and as yet undetermined. But I do hope to return.
Waiting out a 6-hour flight delay was made more entertaining by watching Spain v Italy in the Firkin pub on Yonge Street: location for what remains my favourite shot yet taken in Canada, namely this one on 14/10/2021. Both these guys were cheering for the same team, specifically Spain: and both went away happy, as they duly won, 1-0.
Some might say 1pm is a little early, even on a Saturday, to be camping it up in full drag queen mode, but clearly this opinion is not shared by the entertainers at the Church St Garage in Toronto. Taken from across the street while enjoying lunch on another pleasant, sunny day here. The other guy is just passing through, but I like the juxtaposition, two people in their own world but in the same world, maybe.
I continue to munch air miles in 2024, as I have returned to Toronto for a couple of weeks’ work. On my first afternoon I was wondering what picture I should get to best represent the city where I’ve already spent 17 days of my life. The CN Tower, or other big, tall buildings? Another of the fine collection of murals? But in the end, let’s go with a pub, as there are some fine drinking holes to be found here — including the Imperial pub downtown, as pure a 1970s relic of interior design as I have ever seen. It still has working aquaria, for heaven’s sake. I saw the girl’s reflection in the mirrored pillar and tried it.
Believe me, the St Helena Yacht Club is not as posh a place as it sounds. But it is certainly the best place in town to watch the sun set over the Atlantic, and on Wednesday nights there is a regular food night of some description. In early 2023 it was Taco Night — nowadays it has morphed into Fish Night. Either way, I was there early, and the guy with the impressively pointy beard is still setting up.
Anne’s Place in Jamestown is a St Helena institution and is the go-to spot for tourists and locals alike. Many of the former have, down the years, contributed the flags that now obscure its corrugated-iron ceiling. Some of these are fabulously obscure; the one with yellow and black checks near the bar proudly commemorates “Sutton United FC: Papa Johns’ Trophy Final 2022”. To not only have brought such an object all the way to St Helena, but to have, presumably, done so specifically to donate it: that’s commitment.
My last day of the promised 11-in-a-row in Toronto. It’s been a worthwhile trip for sure, although that doesn’t mean it’s been all that eventful (Saturday night’s accident aside). But the necessary work has been done, and possibly I will be back in June. For now, the pre-flight ritual beer in the departure lounge, then home.
A dull and drizzly day, and I didn’t go anywhere, thus limited opportunities for photography. I did notice this creature sat in its cage above the bar, the sort of thing that’s probably sat there forever but never been seen. It’s not a raven, of course: it doesn’t even particularly look like one. But allow me the cheap and indirect Halloween reference.
“He stands like a statue, becomes part of the machine, feeling all the bumpers, always playing clean… Plays by intuition, the digit counters fall, that deaf dumb and blind kid, sure plays a mean pinball….”
OK, this guy’s probably not deaf, dumb or blind, but hey. The Tilt bar in Birmingham has 20 fine altars at which to worship. Dammit though, that’s a pub two days in a row. But I am on a long weekend.
Being 42 