Mini-vacation

Morning reflections on lake

Last week, I took a mini-vacation. Ed and I organised a four-person canoe trip to Massasauga park (yes, named after the only-poisonous-animal-in-Ontario rattlesnake). I’ve never done my own canoe trip – I did a one-night run in 1996, but that was entirely organised by “adults” and I still don’t even know where we went. The Massasauga was quite nice – just a bit south of Parry Sound, and dead empty. We only saw two other groups on the water during our three day trip, probably because we had a midweek, early June date. As it happened, early June was not a problem; it was gorgeously hot and sunny.

And despite my recollections of Ontario parks as “boring,” it was quite attractive. Sure, it doesn’t quite have the drama of a BC rainforest or mountains, but it has the same inherent calm, misty beauty. And there’s plenty of wildlife – we saw a fox, a turtle with a shell the size of a dinner plate, and a small water snake swimming with its head poked out of the water. The only real downside in comparison to BC was the presence of mosquitoes (especially in the swampy portages), but somehow the 50-100 bites I got didn’t really itch or annoy me. If there were truly no decent outdoors options near Toronto, that might have been a deal-breaker… but this was quite a good trip. Photos are available, of course.

The second half of my vacation was a trip to Montréal. The main point of the trip was to hang out with Tyson and Gill, who flew out from Vancouver for some vacation. I tacked on a dinner in Kingston with the grandparents, ploughed through a few hundred pages of A Short History of Nearly Everything on the bus ride, and mostly chilled out in Montréal proper. Oddly enough, I did run into undergrad classmate Dave Carney on the street, and caught up with a small crowd of ex-NetIntegration people from undergrad at a party later that night, and caught up with Dave Coombes over drinks later in the weekend.

This was my first summer visit to Montréal since I lived there in 2001, and there were a few changes worth noting. I was pleased to see that they’d knocked down the pointless spaghetti of freeway-style ramps at the intersection of Parc and des Pins, although they didn’t seem to have a new urbanised vision for the intersection. There were considerably more cyclists on the streets, for starters. While I didn’t see any new separated bikeways (just the two older ones on Rachel and Berri), there were many new bike lanes and new “sharrows” indicating a route intended for cyclists. They also had an interesting approach for handling turns from one cycling route to another, buliding a protected turning area at a corner by installing bollards (I have a photo; ask me if you care).

In terms of urban design, it looks like the condo phenomenon is progressing apace there, suggesting that the housing market is getting back on its feet. I had never spent much time in Mile End, which had an extraordinarily Mordecai Richler feel when we passed through it, with more orthodox Jews than I’ve ever seen in one place. (Eddy – thanks for the Dieu de Ciel brewpub recommendation; great place.) Outremont was also a stunning area, with gorgeous terrasses and stylish restaurants on Bernard. Finally, after seeing the ongoing success of Toronto’s 1930s buildings, I’m still surprised by the near-abandonment of Montréal’s old banks near the Vieux-Port. I still don’t have a good enough feel for the area, but I suspect the Ville-Marie Expressway isolates the entire Vieux-Port from the rest of the city. Too bad; it could be a beautiful area if it was lively and connected.

The unexamined life is not worth living

I’m not sure that I agree with that antique greek’s quote; I could live quite well without next week’s exams.

Things are under control, but it is amounting to a lot of work, and relatively little activities other than sitting in my office, eating at home and having a few drinks with friends.

The only real news is that today I broke out my winter bike in honour of the start of the snowy season and the vicious road salt that accompanies that season. Oh, and I’m dipping my toe in the online dating world, but that’s not a story for this forum.

Eventually, I’ll have a story for you about the Spadina streetcar. Meanwhile, I’ve posted two pictures from the archives on Flickr.

Canada by stereotype

I just have two small anecdotes to recount, both in the “stereotype of Canada” vein.

1) I was just listening to a few more episodes of the CBC Radio 3 podcast, and I must say I loved the concept of their See Vous Play edition. The two co-hosts banter back in forth in English and French, seamlessly switching and never translating their discussion of the latest in hipster Canadian and Québécois music. Only in Canada, and only on the CBC.

2) I went to a show at the Rex on Saturday, and I still really love that place. Yeah, it’s a bit of an older crowd, and it’s jazz – given those two, it should be a stuffy, snotty affair, right? But the musicians played upbeat improvised, solo-stuffed jazz with no dull crooners, the bar was jam-packed with standing room only and the crowd was talking loudly but still really into the music. And the Rex itself is so utterly unpretentious: Labatt 50 signs on the walls, battered wooden tables everywhere, and a television with the hockey game a few feet from the bassist’s head. Lesson to the musicians: keep the crowd’s attention, or you’ll lose out to the hockey game. Lesson to Vancouver jazz bars like the Cellar: loosen up, lose the red tablecloths, and make jazz fun. Damn, I’m glad the Rex’s owners didn’t sell out to the new condo building that now occupies most of the block.

Forty days in the wilderness

On Sunday, after over a month in the info-desert, Bell Canada finally deigned to connect my apartment to the Internet. In my judgment, that called for a celebratory bittorrent.

Forty days? Apparently that’s how long it takes to get Ma Bell to notice some ill communication. Over those forty days, I think I spent six hours on the phone: on hold, repeating my problem to useless frontline tech support people, desperately trying to get someone who would acknowledge the problem and send someone to the frickin’ apartment to fix it. Their system seems pretty hopeless: frontline support people had no records of past calls I’d made, or of tech staff’s communications with me. I was told repeatedly that I’d been “escalated” and would get a call from technical staff and the problem fixed “in 48 hours,” but never got a call, let alone a fix.

In the end, it was my building’s fault: they got lazy during renovation and hooked my apartment up wrong. But it didn’t need to take Bell 40 days to figure that out.

Stay far, far away.