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| Lake Ontario seen from the boardwalk |
16.5.25 Toronto
Back in Toronto, 35 years later. Strange reading my record of that earlier visit, which is much richer and fuller than I remember – which, of course, is a good reason to write these notes. Will be interesting to compare today’s city with those times.
Driving in from the airport with a Sikh driver – one of a huge number of Indian immigrants here – also striking on the Air Canada 777 we came in on yesterday. Alongside some impressive new apartment blocks to the west of the city, what struck me most was the parlous state of the transport infrastructure. All the concrete piers of the elevated roadways crumbling and rusting.
Driving east towards here by the boardwalk, we pass through an industrial wasteland, this surprisingly extensive. So close to Toronto centre, but sitting here idly – only possible in a huge place like Canada, where even thriving cities like Toronto have lots of empty areas. In London, they’d be built on instantly. The route followed the north side of Lake Ontario, and the contrast with our drive along the north bank of Issyk-Kul last summer was extreme.
A long walk along the boardwalk, the sun strong. Which brought out people, even though it’s Friday morning here. Lots of boardwalk activities: people running with varying degrees of plausibility; people walking fistfuls of dogs; groups practising Tai chi; dozens of volleyball games on the surprisingly sandy shore. The latter being cleaned by tractors pulling sand-filtering machines. To the west, two large chimneys loom, probably from a waste disposal plant or similar. Further in the distance, emerging from the haze, the skyscrapers of Toronto, including the CN Tower. Everything very quite and peaceful – Canada in a microcosm. Lots of black squirrels here – reminding me of the one I saw in Georgia last year. There are also grey squirrels: not sure why two colours have evolved like this.
Outside in the garden, there are a pair of orioles. Beautiful birds, but I am disappointed to learn that they are not the same family as the Eurasian oriole frequently mentioned in Tang poetry. Will clearly have to go to China for them.
17.5.25 Foxboro
After a tranquil morning yesterday, the afternoon proved somewhat more exciting. We were driving out from Toronto to here, Foxboro, a tiny place by the side of a fairly large, fairly fast-flowing river. On the way out, I noticed again how chunky some blocks of flats are here: not just tall and wide, but thick, producing an amazingly 3D effect.
Traffic insanely busy: I thought Canada was a huge country with a relatively small population, leading to a low density on the roads. But it seems most of the population are here on this route. The traffic thinned out, and we were bowling along nicely when the car’s warning system suggested the engine was overheating and might decide to stop altogether. And it did. Leaving us on the side of the motorway, with hundreds of large vehicles zooming past. Fortunately, we were driving in two cars, so when the second car turned up, most of us squeezed in while a breakdown vehicle was called, and a hire car organised. A good opportunity for dealing with rare problems.
Eventually we arrived at our AirBnB accommodation near Foxboro. It’s in a beautiful spot, right next to the river. That, of course, has a big downside: several million famished mosquitoes. These proceeded to eat us alive as we tried to enter the various codes to gain access to the property. In the end, it turns out that the codes we were given were incorrect. Maybe just a ploy to feed the local insect population.
The interior of the property a weird mix: tiny bedrooms, good kitchen, folksy sayings on the walls – “first I drink coffee, then I do things”, “what happens at the cottage, stays at the cottage”. The water is extremely sulphurous: showering in it feels like a descent to the nether regions of hell… Black squirrels leaping from tree to tree, various coloured birds (don’t ask me which), fish rising in the river. And lots of mosquitoes.
There are six of us staying here, with the aim of attending a family wedding today. All six of us are, er, of a certain age, and at a certain (end) stage of life. Everyone very self-confident, organised, efficient, and quietly opinionated. Quite an interesting dynamic, very different from typical random groups of people, particularly those with younger members.
Arriving in Canada on Thursday, tired, dehydrated, jet-lagged, I had one of those moments, asking myself: what am I doing here? That feeling I was making a huge mistake. But a decent night’s sleep expels all those thoughts, as ever.
Out to Belleville, the local metropolis, in search of bread. To a bakery with the name “Small Scale Bread”, which turned out to be an exaggeration. It actually had no bread at all, since everything was sold out.
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| Overly neat lawns |
On the way there, we passed hundreds of suspiciously neat houses – some colonial, with dinky columns, others improbably built of stone in weird forms. Mostly bungalows. But most striking was the grass: perfectly groomed lawns everywhere. A disconcerting sight of neatness that hints at dark secrets. An overall feel that we are driving through a Psycho landscape.
19.5.25 Toronto
On the street-car, travelling along Queen Street towards central Toronto. Modern tram, whose efficiency is spoilt by the fact that it runs along the road, where it is held up by traffic. Would be better to get rid of the parked cars, use the space for traffic, and create a free-flowing dedicated tram lane.
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| In the street-car, travelling along Queen Street |
Queen Street much as I remember it: full of low buildings, mostly shops, cafés, churches, banks, and a few larger, more modern office buildings. Lots of pet shops – no surprise given the demographics of this upmarket area. A few parks. An outlet called “Pizza Nova” – presumably run by the Dante family… At right angles to Queen Street, long, long roads north. For some reason, this straight street reminds me of Davit Aghmashenebeli Avenue in Tbilisi, even though the similarities are few. Another Pizza Nova outlet – family doing well here…
One of the virtues of this street is the amazing mix of architectural styles, completely without organisation. Passing over a bridge athwart a main road and railway. Tall blocks of flats here, in contrast to the rest of Queen Street. A few homeless people around, lending the place a New York air… Lots of people smoking.
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| The romanesque exuberance of the Old City Hall |
At the end of a long and pleasant ride in, a walk past the canonical Toronto sign, spoilt by rather hideous walkways, then to the Old City Hall, splendid in its romanesque exuberance. Now in Eaton Centre, drinking a “Kyoto latte” – actually indistinguishable from a non-Kyoto style latte. Inside, the usual temple to consumerism, pleasant/depressing enough.
To the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO), which I visited before, but recognise not at all the new front (by Frank Gehry, I later learn). Mercifully quiet – it’s a bank holiday here, and we feared it might be busy… In the Canadian galleries, lots of landscapes, plus native/Inuit art. In the gallery dedicated to Lawren Harris – the leader of the Group of Seven . Lots of thick paintwork, simplified mountain forms, bold colours. Nice.
Paintings by Haida chief Charles Edenshaw. Very colourful pieces (small) by Tom Thomson (who “died in mysterious circumstances”…). Group of Seven room – lots of woods, snowy scenes, mountains, few traces of humanity. One striking lack here: no labels explaining who painted and what it shows. Instead, each gallery has a “handheld” with info. But not so convenient, especially when writing a travel notebook…
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| A Central Asian scene in Canada |
J E H Macdonald – more watery scenes – sea, lakes, rivers…. His series depicting a mountain lake reminds me of the seven lakes in Tajikistan. Autumn foliage another major theme...glorious reds, deep oranges, vibrant yellows and rich browns, with a natural impasto. In another room, two striking works by Franklin Carmichael: Cranberry lake – dead trees reaching for the sky like fingers – and Light and Shadow, a shimmering lake between rounded mountains.
These pix are all part of the Thomson Collection – 700 works he gave to AGO in 2002 – which is why I didn’t seen them when I was here before. They are “presented without labels, as they would be in one’s home”. A small gallery of works by John Kavik. More interesting for me is the explanation in the wonderful Inuit script (Inuktitut syllabics): each letter used in three orientations – up, left-pointing and right-pointing.
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| Beautiful and mysterious Inuktitut syllabics |
In the Henry Moore gallery. Frustrating that they are not in the UK, but good to see them here well displayed. Viewing them all together and close up, I am struck how much they exude an air of the 1950s and 1960s – a time of austerity but also optimism in the UK. And the reclining figure, a form used again and again, inevitably reminds me of Mexico, where we saw the original Aztec version that inspired Moore… Also striking how the surface of the sculptures looks like a drawing: lines and cross-hatchings. Drawings made three-dimensional, a real feat of sculpture.
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| Henry Moore statues, not in the UK alas |
On the way to the (small) café, where I now sit, several galleries with trilingual explanations: English, French and Anishinaabemowin, a member of the Algonquian family, with many languages apparently. Must check out later, looks rather interesting…
Now on the #501 street-car, heading back east. Glorious sun, but air still fresh. After the rather nugatory lunch, a quick waltz around the European galleries. Not much, but some nice surprises. And lots of unknown but decent Canadian painters. An exhibition of Latin American photos from the AGO’s own collection – lots of gritty stuff: careworn women, broken men. More indigenous art, more explanations in Algonquian. Overall, the AGO is even better than I remember it, even though today I barely saw one floor, with much else to see. Central to that is the Thomson collection of the Group of Seven: truly magnificent. I could have spent all day just in that section, and rather wish I could.
Then out to Chinatown. Good to hear lots of putonghua, and see so many Chinese faces. Toronto seems to have plenty of Asians everywhere, not just here. Hard to tell if they are citizens or just visiting. Lots of massage parlours in Chinatown here – or maybe that should be “massage” parlours. Hard to see this much demand for reflexology…
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| Toronto's Chinatown |
Popped in to the Chinese shopping centre, but turns out to be small beer compared to Shenzhen’s Huaqiangbei. Then to a Tim Hortons (or Tom Hortons as I prefer to call it) to be horrified by the sugary confections on offer. One bite of an apple doughnut thing is enough for me.
20.5.25
Sitting in the square in the Distillery District, drinking coffee from Balzac’s (well, after Dante, makes sense). Pop music echoing around the Victorian buildings, most of which are built with a characteristic dark red brick. Sunny again, but air quite chill. Feels quite strange to be here, on a Tuesday, doing nothing much. But pleasant.
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| The Victorian Distillery District |
In Canoe, on the 54th floor of the Toronto-Dominion Bank tower (a Ludwig Mies van der Rohe project, apparently). Stunning views south – to the small landing strip on the nearby island, and west. Air wonderfully clear today. Earlier, lunch in St Lawrence Market. Not quite as I remember it, but a good atmosphere, spoilt somewhat by the live lobsters in tanks, waiting to be killed, probably slowly and horribly… Then to here, for the view, not the booze and expensive foods in this upmarket business lunch/dinner spot. Small prop planes landing every few minutes at the airport. Not many A380s so far, alas…
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| The view from Canoe, book and cocktail to hand |
Drinking a “Gala” non-alcoholic cocktail: blueberry, watermelon, white pine, honey, alder catkin, lemon, soda…. A pretty puce colour, not much taste. An impressive parallelepiped of ice, apparently made by a specialist ice cube company, which offers various improbable shapes. Smoochy mood music in the background… Impressively, some skyscrapers can be seen across the lake, in St Catherines probably. Ferries plying the waters between here and the island.
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| Geological eras reach into the sky |
Now beside the railway museum and its turntable, under the CN tower (built by the railway company, it seems). The concrete of the tower is layered, like geological eras. Lots more office blocks compared to 1990. Architecture chunky and quite attractive. Alongside the Rogers Centre, about which I care not a jot.
21.5.25
A rather unusual day, not least because I forgot to take this notebook - now blue, not black - with me as we travelled around.
On the street-car to Osgoode, then down to the subway. Rather drab and run down. Train has all carriages linked, and is very spacious. Journey shows with an illuminated map, as in Bilbao, I think. Clientele almost entirely ethnic, the journey fast and efficient.
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| Casa Loma seen from afar |
To Dupont, a fairly grim neighbourhood. Here to see Casa Loma, a gothic pile on a hill. Decided not to pay the steep $40 (~ £25) per person to see mock version of the real castles we have in the UK. The rain started to fall, so we took the subway back south to Museum stop, to emerge into heavier rain. A quick trot past the Royal Ontario Museum to the Hemingway restaurant on Cumberland Street. With a New Zealand theme, the atmosphere was good, the food interesting and fairly priced. Ate poutine for the first time, which seems like a fairly lethal combination of chips, cheese, gravy – and salt. Well, I can tick that off the list…
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| Guess what is nearby |
Then out into the rain for a dash to the museum. Pricey again - $31 – but worth it for the Chinese section alone. The star exhibit – huge paintings by Zhu Haogu and Zhuang Boyuan from Xinghua monastery (1298), and by unknown artists in Langman monastery (c. 1300).
The main central one showed the Paradise of Maitreya, the Buddha of the future, delivering a sermon. For something that is 700 years old, and peeled off a monastery wall in China before being shipped halfway around the world, the beauty and the state of preservation are astonishing. The two side murals form a pair, and express “Daoist concepts of cosmic order”. Also very well preserved and stunningly beautiful. Really a revelation seeing these. The other exhibits in the Asian section interesting, and too many to see properly in this cursory visit.
Elsewhere in the ROM we saw impressive dinosaurs, plus a selection of European furniture, Greek and Roman artefacts. Nothing amazing, but lots of good quality exhibits. Finally, a trip to the native art section. Positively nice to see so many old black and white pix of the tribal leaders in the 19th century. But the highlight for me remains the astonishing Chinese murals.
22.5.25
Last night, to the Tiflisi restaurant on Queen street. As the name suggests, this offers Georgian cuisine, but with Russian staff – hence the odd form of Tbilisi used. Food pretty good – Acharuli khachapuri including – except for the khinkali. The trad ones with meat I found very disappointing. But then I’m not a huge fan of the dish anywhere – even in Tbilisi.
Today, the rain is falling non-stop, so pretty pointless walking around town in the cold and wet. Stayed indoors, did some work…
24.5.25 Manitouwaba Lake
Saw a live hummingbird close up for the first time. Such an amazing infraction of the laws of nature: a bird that is so small, so fast, and able to remain fixed in space as if pinned in the air.
Another odd day yesterday. More rain, falling incessantly, as we drove up north to stay in the Torontonian equivalent of a dacha: a cabin deep in the woods. Many people have them, or rent them for the summer. On the way, we stopped off at the delightfully named Penetanguishene – lots of indigenous names around here.
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| A fine wooden building |
Specifically we stopped for lunch at Discovery Harbour, eating in Captain Roberts' Table. A fine and spacious wooden building, serving good food. Nearby, King’s Wharf theatre – quite small, but nice to see here so unexpectedly. The view across the harbour fine.
The houses around here the same intriguing mix of architectural variety and numbing neatness. The landscape more mixed than near Toronto – lots of trees , some hills. As we drove further north, there were outcrops of rock – great blocks of granite, many showing the signs of dynamite used to blast roads through. Surprisingly, lots of deciduous trees, as well as the expected conifers, lending a pleasing visual rhythm to the landscape, even under the rain. Lots of lakes, mostly small, rather like Finland with its great shattered pattern of water, for example around and north of Lake Saimaa.
The dacha was reached with a long, winding road, with other cabins occasionally visible along the way. Ours was overlooking Manitouwaba Lake, just a few metres from the water. Incredibly tranquil, with few signs of other people. Just nature in its pristine glory. Certainly a representative aspect of Canada, unlike Toronto, which is something of a (delightful) aberration in its pullulating urbanism.
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| Waiting for the hummingbirds |
Just seen a pair of hummingbirds, darting around in rapid and improbable synchrony. Amazing. The strange thing is that photos of this tiny creature never convey its key attribute: its diminutive size. Pix are always zoomed-in shots to show the details. But the magnification is a fundamental betrayal of the bird’s essence. It is only now, seeing these birds in context, set against trees and branches and twigs, that I have understood their miracle. How is it possible for something this minuscule to lay eggs and hatch even smaller hummingbird chicks?
The sun has come out intermittently, lending a “Swallows and Amazons” air to the scene. A kind of childhood never-never land of swimming in and sailing on a lake amidst the woods. Not that I ever had these experiences, or even read “Swallows and Amazons”: I did however enjoy the “Famous Five” books which inhabited a similar world of endless childhood adventures.
It’s certainly idyllic here, but as a city boy, it’s just a little too quiet for my tastes. Also, I really need more mountains for my perfect natural landscapes – à la Georgia, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan; I crave their implied infinity…
25.5.25 Toronto
To complete the historical parallelism, out this morning for a walk along the boardwalk: sadly, not a 6 km run, as I managed 35 years ago, just a sedate stroll. Once again, a flash of sun redeems the day. Lots of sail boats out on the lake, hundreds of Torontonians walking the dog, running with small children in their buggies, strolling along, or just sitting and watching the world. This is the quintessential Canadian atmosphere: relaxed, content, comfortable. It is the perfect end to an interesting and enjoyable rediscovery and re-enactment of my journey here all those years ago.
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