Last Wednesday was the second day I spent on my own in Toronto while my cousin worked. This was to be my "tourist day", when I got all of the touristy things out of the way without having to drag him around to do all the same, old things.

That was the extent of my plans. When I walked across the street to catch the bus to the subway, I realized, upon perusal of my transit map, that there was a streetcar station just a couple of block south. According to the map, this southern route would keep me in the general direction I was going, instead of heading north to take the subway, and then walking or busing back south to the CN Tower et al. To my naive, transit-innocent brain, this seemed like a good idea. Besides, I had just missed the bus, and was facing a little bit of a wait, anyhow.

So I strolled through the charming neighbourhood only to discover that the road on which the streetcar travels was torn up and in some state of repair/renovation. I walked to the next street over, right next to the park, and then walked along the park to the next station. See the photos I took of the park.


When I was about midway of the park's width, I noticed that a streetcar had stopped at the stop which I had figured was not working due to the construction. I watched, helplessly, as it rolled past me to the second stop, to which I was heading, and then carry on towards the city. I realized that I had missed both stops, and would now have to wait for the next one to come along. Not being too familiar with the system, I guessed and hoped that another one would be along soon, and so I turned around and headed back to the first stop. My feeble brain figured that the streetcar would reach that stop first.

I had to wait about 20 minutes for the next streetcar. While waiting, an old woman toddled to the platform. She was pulling one of the foldable shopping carts. As we waited for the streetcar, she kept giving me these meaningful looks like "well, where is it?" I really wanted to tell her that I had no idea, but that I had taken her arrival as a sign that I had guessed correctly and that another streetcar was coming. I assumed that she was thinking the same way about me...that if I was waiting for the streetcar, it was surely on its way.

Finally, it arrived. While getting on, I asked the operator if I was on the correct streetcar to get to the CN Tower. He mumbled some directions. I said "so, yes?" He said, "yes, but you should get off at ______ and catch the ____________. That will get you closer." When I heard him call out a stop that sounded something like what he'd mumbled, I asked him if this was the stop. He told me to get off, go around the corner, and wait for the #____. I took that as a "yes, this is the stop."

For all his grumbliness, he did give me good advice. It was pleasant to ride on the street level through the city to the financial district, which is a few blocks away from the CN Tower.

I stumbled around for a bit looking for a non-Starbuck's coffee place to grab a frozen blended coffee beverage (fbcb). While stumbling, I took this photo, which includes the Roy Thompson Concert Hall on the right side of the photo.

I stopped at Timothy's, and had a horribly strong and bitter fbcb. It was very unsatisfying. While struggling with the beverage, I pulled out my map and guidebook and planned my day. It turned out that I was just around the corner from The Silver Snail, which is apparently one of two must-see comics shops in Toronto. The other, The Beguiling (I think), is supposed to be more upscale and fancy. For JNadiger's sake, I wish that I had found it. Instead, here is a photo of The Silver Snail:


From there, I found my way to the CN Tower, which I didn't go up because 1) there are many photos taken by much talented photogs than myself, which I can buy, so what's the point; and 2) I can shit my pants for free, so why waste the money? (I'm a bit leery of the heights, you know). So instead, I took the required photo:

and then carried on with my day.

As per my guidebook, I headed under this lovely building (on the right in the photo on the left), which is some sort of train station, and headed to the Toronto Island ferries.



The main attraction on Toronto Island is Centreville, which is a little amusement park on the island. There are four ferry landings on the island, and Centreville is the most popular. As per my guidebook's suggestion, I chose to eschew the hordes of families waiting to crowd the ferry to Centreville. Instead, I waited, almost alone, in the lineup for the ferry to Ward's Island, which is just west of Centreville. My guidebook suggested to go to the Ward's Island dock, and walk to Centreville. Seeing the crowds waiting to go to Centreville, I thought that this was a good plan. I'm not much of a people person, but I'm even less of a kid person (and yes, I'm suggesting that kids are NOT people, too, not unless they behave themselves).

While waiting for the ferry, a man and his kids rode up on their bikes. They asked me about the ferry's schedule, and I had to admit that I didn't know and that I was a tourist. We chatted a bit about Toronto. He asked about Vancouver. The ferry came, and, being first in line, I was able to get a choice spot for the 10 minute ride to the island.

Once on the island, pathetically, in front of everyone who disembarked the ferry and then embarked on the walk to Centreville, I set up my camera on a stump, hit the timer, and on the first try, got a decent shot of my with the city of Toronto in the background. Thank god, because I just wanted to pick up the camera and carry on as if I wasn't such a tourist. I think the photo works well at hiding my girth.

Those of you with reasonable memories will remember this photo from before. Please indulge me; it's one of the few photos of myself from this trip.

There are some amazingly lucky folks who live on this island in cute little cabin-y houses. It's an island/water community, so they all have boats and stuff. Here are some kids who are attending a boating day camp, next to a bridge that goes over the canal to a collection of the cute little houses. Regrettably, I didn't take any photos of the houses.


In a way, I felt sorry for the people living there...people must always be taking photos of their homes. I know that I wouldn't like it if hundreds of people took photos of my house every day. Then again, they do get to live with views like this:













As I walked along, singing along to HW on my mp3 player (out loud...people must have thought "No wonder he's alone"), I watched the people playing disc golf on the island's disc golf course, and looked for lovely scenes to photograph. There were too many, so I won't include them in the blog.

I successfully managed to avoid injury by quad bicycle (I wonder if they sell insurance with the rental?), and found my way to Centreville. On one side, is the beach, which I realized several days later wasn't the ocean, but a Great Lake (don't ask me which one...I don't know).

Although it was an overcast day, and although it was humid and I was exhausted from the long walk, I had enough composure to take a photo of the PizzaPizza stand sign (those things are everywhere ), which advertised that they have fresh backed muffins. Yummy!











My inner editor had a small stroke. When it was over, I bought some juice, and walked over to the lovely little amusement park, seen here in a series of photos:















I soon realized that it was getting close to dinner time, and that people would start lining up to leave the island. This time, I chose to leave via the Centreville ferry dock. I was smart to have lined up when I did. It seemed like everyone followed. The line behind me was frightening. I had enough time while waiting for the ferry to take one more photo of the city.

It just started to sprinkle as we were boarding the ferry. I didn't get a prime spot for photo taking on the trip back. The boat was extremely crowded.

Once back on the mainland, my cousin, with superior timing, phoned to see where I was. If we had planned ahead of time, we could have met at the CNE. As it turned out, he was still at the university, and was going for dinner with his friend/coworker Heather, and he wanted to know if I was interested in meeting them. I was still about an hour away, so I said that I'd meet him at his apartment. It was too bad, because aside from the one morning that she gave us a ride to the university, I didn't see Heather at all. Maybe next time.