Crow Bar Marks on the Front Door

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We all wake up feeling surprisingly well rested. We decide that the white noise of the traffic coming in through the cardboard covering our windows where the glass is supposed to be mightn’t be all that sleep disturbing after all. I suggest to Issy that we should record it and play it back when we’re trying to get to sleep elsewhere. She doesn’t look overly convinced, although she says we might be onto something if we can somehow edit out the sirens that she says seem to go off at about ten minute intervals day and night (I’m now thinking it might perhaps just have been me who slept well). We start to wonder how safe the apartment might be. It didn’t burn down last night despite the fire alarm, so that’s a tick, and the patched hole in our bedroom door where it looks like someone tried to punch a hole probably didn’t result from an external attack. However the multiple crow bar marks on the front door are a bit more of a concern.

Michael and I leave the girls sleeping and head off to Fort York. We hear that a fortification of some sort has been here since 1793. Its major claim to fame is as the site of the 1813 Battle of York, which was part of the War of 1812 between the British and the Americans. The Americans won that particular stoush, but it didn’t seem to do them all that much good. The British blew up the fort’s magazine as they retreated destroying most of the buildings and killing and injuring hundreds of American troops in the process, and although York (Toronto) was made capital of the newly declared province of Upper Canada in 1787, at the time of the Battle its population was only a few hundred. … and it wasn’t even particularly militarily significant, as most of the British fleet was stationed further along the Lake at Kingston. I begin to wonder whether the Americans only attacked because they knew they could win and wanted to feel better about themselves. I hope for the free world’s sake that they’ve got a bit better at this sort of stuff over the past couple of centuries.

Emma and Michael head off to today’s ball game between the Blue Jays and Tampa while Issy and I take a quiet stroll through Toronto’s main business district. Along the way we pass the Scotiabank Arena, which is the home of the Toronto Raptors in the National Basketball Association and the Toronto Maple Leafs in the National Hockey League. I can’t help but wonder how Canadians feel about competing in “National“ competitions when they’re not even the “nation” being referred to. ….and while I’m on the subject, where else on the planet is there a World Series that you’re only eligible to compete in if your team happens to come from North America. ….. That’s probably enough USA bashing for one day. I know the Donald’s not in charge anymore, so I don’t think he can still get the Secret Service to send hit squads across international borders to silence anyone with the temerity to criticise his “Great America”. Nevertheless I wouldn’t want to get too complacent.

We continue north into the very attractive Nathan Phillips Square. It’s fronted on two sides by the old and current versions of Toronto City Hall, and has a lake with colourful letters spelling out the city’s name as its centrepiece. If the queue of people holding cameras along one side of the lake (I think “pond“ might be a better description) is anything to go by, getting your photo taken sitting on or in amongst the letters is a compulsory activity here. Apparently the lake becomes an ice skating rink in winter, which might explain the icebergs and statues of half sunken buildings we see floating in it.

The Blue Jays lose, so we decide to walk a couple of kilometres up into Chinatown to drown Michael and Emma’s sorrows.… well that was the idea until we find that our chosen restaurant doesn’t seem to be into serving alcohol. They more than make up for it however with monstrously large servings. I’ve never thought of the Chinese as being a particularly obese race, so either most of the clientele here aren’t Chinese or they must have enough leftovers every night to feed several small African countries. We stop by Nathan Phillips Square again on the way home to admire the very attractive and colourful night time version.

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Comments

[D MJ Binkley]

Toronto
This ia a great city!

[RENanDREW]

Not as cute as the bear...
...but probably a lot more open to being cuddled :) Sorry to hear about the dodgy apartment, but sounds like you were lucky to get anything at that point!

[DaveandIssy]

Not as cute as the bear
Thx for reading. Yes, we were indeed lucky to get anything at all, so probably shouldn’t complain too much …. And it gives us something to write about. Hope you guys are surviving winter!