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Toronto, Canada
Seasons don't fear the reaper, nor do the wind or the sun or the rain
For reasons that made perfect sense at the time, I had planned a trip to Toronto for early April during the last moments of the regular hockey season. Everything was a go (despite any irrational health scares) until I was in Newark Liberty International Airport. It turns out that a freak, late season ice storm had shut down Pearson International Airport in Toronto. The people at Air Canada had booked and rebooked me on five different flights out of two airports that Friday, allowing me the opportunity to spend more than enough time at just about every public area of Newark's Terminal A and sufficient time to bond with the stressed Air Canada staff and the somewhat surly security agents. The next afternoon at La Guardia their brethren broke the news to me that I had spent the last thirty six hours in vain, that Pearson was still closed, that I was going another time if at all.
Blindly I rebooked the trip for the first weekend in May, safe from the ice but unsafe from any overblown World Health Organization propaganda, but more about that later. Until then enjoy the slides...
My future resting place. Really.
On more than one occasion and to multiple people I have expressed a clear desire to have my ashes scattered in this place. The atrium at BCE Place (unmistakably designed by Santiago Calatrava) has always been one of my favorite spaces- a simple corridor connecting some faceless office buildings, one of my favorite restaurants (the Movenpick Marche) and the Hockey Hall of Fame, home of the Stanley Cup. I'm not saying it will be easy- there will be security, tourists and maintenance crews to deal with as you try and scatter a decent amount of ash and charred bone chips across a public space with some dignity. Something to look forward to I guess.
As you are probably aware of, Toronto has a bit of a perception problem as of late. Many people think it is unsafe to be there, an irrational fear perpetuated by the agenda driven World Health Organization (the more trustworthy CDC saw past the propaganda). There were most certainly dangers in Toronto, but not for the casual, non hospital visiting tourist. Still such fears managed to empty hotels and scare off the easily scared for such little reason.
An unexpected benefit were the steps that the dying tourist industry was prepared to take to lure back crowds. One such promotion was at Toronto's unimaginably high CN Tower, where a $30 CDN ticket was now selling for $5 CDN. And while even Younge Street was virtually abandoned at 9PM on a Friday night, at the CN Tower three hour long lines stretched all the way to the Sky Walk (for those familiar with such landmarks)- apparently most people felt the risk to their lives was still tangible but also something less than $25 CDN.
This is the Sky Dome, home to the (temporarily) unpopular Blue Jays. For those engineering fans among you, the roof itself slides in three pieces. The two flat pieces slide perpendicular to the right, then the semi circular piece on the left rotates all the way around to the right. I actually saw a game inside, the roof was closed despite the cloudless sky. Not as interesting inside as I expected.
As cool as Skydome is, it's kind of boring inside. All concrete, utilitarian, uninspired. The roof is even without any hint of the grandeur it possesses, unnecessarily dark and brooding over such a plastic field. I am not a baseball fan (I prefer more checking in spectator sports) but have always been a fan of baseball stadiums, having gone out of my way in places like San Francisco and Milwaukee to see what locals would. It turns out that what I enjoyed most in those stadiums was the idea that I was outside, in the sun or in the well lit night, calmly enjoying something I had little stake in. Even with good seats, halfway decent popcorn and a rare grand slam homerun by the home team, I was ready to leave as soon as I got there.
A rare self portrait, caught in the reflection of the glass enclosed elevator as it speeds toward the observation deck. Across the empty lots, sandwiched between Union Station and the Gardiner Expressway is the ACC (otherwise known as the Air Canada Centre to people not pretending to be from Toronto). The current home of the Toronto Maple Leafs but nothing special, at least not yet.
From Union Station in downtown Toronto there is a series of pedestrian bridges and escalators up and over the train tracks (the aforementioned Skywalk) that lead you near the foot of the CN Tower. Once there, it is time to start waiting in line with everyone else to buy your severely discounted ticket through some outside ticket windows. Once successful, it's through the doors, up the ramp, and onto something that looks suspiciously like security. Well meaning, official type Canadians don't run you through a metal detector or search your bag (or anyone's bag come to think of it), but instead ask you to stand on the two footprints as your entire body is blasted with air from all directions for several seconds.
After you've cleared that (and begin to wonder not only about its effectiveness but that maybe those powerful, upsetting airjets are sending something airborne that wouldn't have been airborne on its own), you loop around to the left where you are forced to pose for a picture they will try and sell you later (obligatory for all tall buildings apparently- damn digital technology), then it's finally the elevators. As always it is a place to pretend to be polite, for the last person in will be closest to the glass enclosed doors.
The elevator ride itself is short, too short- then suddenly you find yourself at the main observation deck. There is a higher deck- the comparably claustrophobic Skypod, but its much higher views are not necessarily more fun than the main level. Facing east is a restaurant that allows you to walk through and look out, otherwise its large windows are typical of an observation deck, expansive views available in all directions with little signs confirming landmarks to people more familiar with places like Mississauga or Richmond Hill.
What makes the CN Tower especially unique is its lower level- signs lead to staircases from the deck to one below, a required visit for all since the elevators down leave from that floor anyway. In the center of the space on the south side is that attention grabbing glass floor, while on the outer rim is a chance to step outside and feel the cold air (and the height) for yourself. Enclosed in a cage is a 360 degree walk around Toronto and the lake, a chance to see what you just saw upstairs while experiencing the harsh and cold realities of such a height, the entire time wishing that the general masses weren't so irresponsible (or suicidal) to require such an obvious cage.
Looking straight up at the glass floor), the underside of the observation deck and the self portrait enabling glass elevators.
