Not what it appears.

Today is probably going to seem dull for all of you following along at home.  First thing this morning, 8 am we were at the car rental.  We explained what happened.  The nice man there came out and looked.  Pounded on the side of the car a few times, pushing the bumper that had popped out of it’s clips back in.  It looked not 100% back, but 98% and if you weren’t looking, knowing what you were looking for, you’d probably never see anything.  The nice man said, there ya go.  And that was that.  We were on our way by 8:15.

We took the side roads from St Catherine to Toronto, Lakeside drive, which was by the Lake, but also a lot of residential and towns, so it was sporadic views. 

Our first stop was Hamilton.  If you go by the tourist propaganda, Hamilton is a rising city, filled with little neighborhoods that have large art districts, boutique shopping, and café’s.  I wondered if we’d make it to Toronto today reading the flyers. 

Hamilton in reality, is not this.  It’s a very hard, sharp, dirty city.  It does have some unique shops (like a yarn shop) tucked into streets that look like they’re trying but have seen much better days.  We stopped at the Gallery of Hamilton, their art museum, only to realize it’s closed on Mondays.  We then went to the info center, where the very nice lady really couldn’t offer us much to do aside from a plane war museum and hiking and a large botanical garden.  Since it was mid morning and like 110 degrees, hiking was not even an option.  The gardens did look nice, we did a drive by, but the heat made it impossible and I am still a lobster.

I think we spent all of an hour in Hamilton and that included my visit to the McD’s restroom.  One of the “big shopping areas” according to the tour book didn’t even have a store on the nice residential road.  So much for truth in advertising.

Along the way we did stop in the Burlington Art Center.  A great place if you lived here.  They have every kind of studio imaginable, from weaving to carving to ceramics.  Their gallery show was okay.  My personal favorites were a very large sculpture titled cow-zilla in which a Holstein was attacking.  And some carved canes which were gorgeous.  One had a cat handle, another was a friendship cane - a stack of small carved objects: a pumpkin, a mouse with cheese, eggs, etc.

By then I was starving so we stopped at a place down the road and I have finally tasted a Canadian Smoked Meat sandwich.  It’s good, a lot like corned beef (for some unknown reason I was expecting something more like bbq).  We’ve decided that it must be brined brisket, but this is thus far unconfirmed.

Making our way into Toronto we secured lodging and went for a ride.

Toronto is like New York.  Or at least it is like the New York that people think is NY.  It’s sprawling.  It’s dense.  It has lots of neighborhoods.  It’s busy.  There is no parking, lots of construction and the drivers are the worst I have ever seen in my life.  Mike doesn’t agree.  He thinks it’s “a certain think,” and that he’s driven in worse.  I’m glad he feels that way.  I feel like every 8 blocks (and my stress) reduced my life by 5 years. 

By the time we got down town, I’d say I lost at least 25 years.  We went to find the Inuit Art Museum.  Of course the road it was supposed to be on was under construction, nothing is clearly marked.  We parked and tried to wander – we found the street number, but it appeared to be a bank building.

Curious we entered, checked the directory and yes, it did say museum, so we kept going.  It was like an urban version of the Narnia closet.  Walk in and the more you go the more the world changed, from office building lobby to little mall… opening up to an indoor court yard, with water pools and escalator to a food court and yes, the Inuit Art museum. 

It was small, but very neat sculpture and art.  It is a form I really like, though a subject matter that does not always hold me.  Still, I was glad to have found it. 

Starving, we gambled on the Chinese restaurant off the food court.  I was expecting dismal, but was too tired and hungry to want to fight the traffic again without sustenance.  We got lucky, it was a high end restaurant, so we got to sit by a lake view and the food was great.

Of course, that was followed by another harrowing ride back to the hotel.  Frankly, there is nothing here that makes me feel the drive and parking is worth it.  While perhaps we’ll feel differently in the morning, at this time in our nightly writing, I think we are going to head out and not even fight the city.