A sign of divine intervention above Lake Ontario this afternoon? Well, more likely explained by the fact that over there lies Billy Bishop Airport, Toronto’s downtown terminal for domestic flights. Something to look at, either way.
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.
Toronto seems one of the most civilised places I have ever been, but if it has a seedy underbelly, Dundas Square is probably it. Just these two blocks: nothing too vulgar, you know, like those USAnians do.
Unable to secure my preferred window seat I was reduced this afternoon to craning the camera past the head of my neighbour (with her permission I would add), kicking in a long zoom and hoping for the best. The colour balance was destroyed, but in black and white I just about get away with it. If you count my couple of hours of stopover in 2017, which nevertheless produced a shot similar to this — the blog’s third visit to Toronto.
The ‘Knowledge Building Summer Institute’ conference got me to Wageningen last year. No chance (or, at least, no money) to get out to Montreal for the 2023 version, however, so it was a day in hybrid-land for me. Or rather, thanks to the time difference, an evening. And on a Sunday too. But a voluntary one, and fairly interesting.
At one level this is a cheap rodent shot, but it does epitomise a particular feature of Toronto’s urban scene — because there are thousands, tens of thousands perhaps, of these critters around every tree and greenish space in the city. They’re all brown, too, rather than grey (as most of the UK’s squirrels are) or red (as a very few of them are). If anything, this example is uncharacteristically pale compared to his city brethren. Either way they’re lining themselves up as the runner-up species locally, I’m telling you.
Last day in Toronto. Home tomorrow, as long as my government decides to let me back into the country.
A trip out of the city. The suburb of King City is not as hick as this picture may make it appear, but I like this shot because it makes it seem like one of those tiny North American places with ridiculously grandiose names. You can almost see the weatherbeaten sign at the city limits: “KING CITY, ONTARIO (population: 47)”.
Yonge Street is the spine of Toronto, defining the point at which the west side becomes the right side and vice versa. As it is the address of the nearest pub to my hotel, I’ve been hanging out there a lot in the evenings. This picture pleases me because it’s basically the one I hoped would come out when I took the shot. The guy sitting in the gutter looks enveloped by the red tail lights that appear to have passed on both sides of him.
There are many good murals around this city — and this one is particularly fine. No further comment necessary.
My destination on this long-deferred trip outside the UK is Toronto, the largest city in Canada. As the director of this movie about my life, I did consider going with the ‘establishing long shot’, but in a way I’ve already done that, as the Toronto skyline featured in August 2017, when I changed planes here on my way to Illinois to see the eclipse. So here’s a shot from this morning’s explorations; I liked this ‘whirlpool’ sculpture. In the background, Lake Ontario, or at least, an inlet of it. I am here until Saturday: some work to do, but y’know, it’s just nice to be somewhere else for a while.
Being 42 