Where do I start?
I don't know whether to start from the beginning and tell you about the Polish-plumber-hating-granny who sat in front of us in the plane from London and spouted her prejudicial views, confiding noisily in her neighbour and assuring all around that her bigoted ideas were fully supported by the British press ('Did you see the Mail yesterday...?')
Or maybe I should skip that and not even bother with the story about the two trans-Atlantic planes both being out of service so a European one having to be used meaning no leg space and people having to be switched about all over the plane.
Perhaps I should go right to our arrival in Toronto: The joy of finally being at our destination after 20 hours of travel and no sleep; the excitement of being in a new place and understanding everything people were saying despite being in unfamiliar surroundings; the pure bliss of good food and beer with good friends; the comfort of a real bed letting us finally rest.
The more interesting parts for you to read about might be the actual discoveries of the city. The sheer size of the CN tower, sticking up into the sky and watching over you wherever you are; the banking district with the skyscrapers crowding around each other; the eclectic mix of people, food and shops at Kensington Market; the beautiful sandy beaches in the imaginatively titled suburb of 'The Beaches'; the far-from-city feel of the Toronto Islands with their parks and bike paths; the bustle of Chinatown which spills out onto the road; the seductive shops strung along Queen's Street and the coffee shops on each corner.
Or maybe you'd rather hear about the characters we are coming across: the way everyone walks along with a mobile glued to their head and a coffee held aloft; the sleeping rose seller by Union Station, cigar still lit in his mouth; the super happy Japanese waitress who served Marek his first ever sushi; the
bronzed toned blonde who jogged alongside our streetcar and looked perfectly at ease in her hotpants and cropped vest; the chatty hot-dog standholder who handed us our Polish sausages; the young party-goers at our hostel; the girl strolling along with her dog which she had dressed in a flowery smock and booties; the begger who smiled warmly and told us not to be sorry when we didn't give him change and wished us a good day...
Oh I don't know. We've only been here four full days so I'll have more to tell you later.
Or maybe I should skip that and not even bother with the story about the two trans-Atlantic planes both being out of service so a European one having to be used meaning no leg space and people having to be switched about all over the plane.
Perhaps I should go right to our arrival in Toronto: The joy of finally being at our destination after 20 hours of travel and no sleep; the excitement of being in a new place and understanding everything people were saying despite being in unfamiliar surroundings; the pure bliss of good food and beer with good friends; the comfort of a real bed letting us finally rest.
The more interesting parts for you to read about might be the actual discoveries of the city. The sheer size of the CN tower, sticking up into the sky and watching over you wherever you are; the banking district with the skyscrapers crowding around each other; the eclectic mix of people, food and shops at Kensington Market; the beautiful sandy beaches in the imaginatively titled suburb of 'The Beaches'; the far-from-city feel of the Toronto Islands with their parks and bike paths; the bustle of Chinatown which spills out onto the road; the seductive shops strung along Queen's Street and the coffee shops on each corner.
Or maybe you'd rather hear about the characters we are coming across: the way everyone walks along with a mobile glued to their head and a coffee held aloft; the sleeping rose seller by Union Station, cigar still lit in his mouth; the super happy Japanese waitress who served Marek his first ever sushi; the
bronzed toned blonde who jogged alongside our streetcar and looked perfectly at ease in her hotpants and cropped vest; the chatty hot-dog standholder who handed us our Polish sausages; the young party-goers at our hostel; the girl strolling along with her dog which she had dressed in a flowery smock and booties; the begger who smiled warmly and told us not to be sorry when we didn't give him change and wished us a good day...
Oh I don't know. We've only been here four full days so I'll have more to tell you later.
posted by Becca | 1:36 am
2 Comments:
sounds like you're having a great time, when are the pictures coming on line then!? :) Enjoy cxxx
O' Canada...
Umm...I forget the rest.
Good to see you are having a good time.
Keep posting. The writing is very good.
Sincerely,
B---
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