Thursday, 17 June 2010
Ottawa, Canada
It’s 0545hrs. Three taxi drivers are arguing the toss over who should take me to the railway station. A few blocks away. None want to take me. No. They want to do an airport run. An expensive fare rather than my paltry CA$6.
Security measures are in place for next week’s G20 summit. So have to be dropped off away from the main entrance to the station. Train is manky. Even in First Class. Canada hasn’t really grasped the concept of train travel. Unlike Europe with its plush high speed trains.
Four and a half hour journey time hampered by having to give way to goods trains. Goods trains take priority on the rails. They’re used to transport goods and sea containers from the west coast to the east coast. And vice versa. Quicker and cheaper than sailing through the Panama Canal. Apparently.
For the first time in Canada the scenery is much like England. Undulating countryside. Fields. Cows. And did those feet…
The VIA Rail station is 7km from the city of Ottawa and now heading towards French speaking territory. Taxi driver has to radio the controller to find out where my hotel is. So well known then. But the Hotel Indigo (now https://www.themetcalfehotel.com/) is on Metcalfe Street. The main shopping street of Ottawa and five minutes from Parliament Hill.
Akin to the British Houses of Parliament complete with a Big Ben looking tower they Parliament Hill consists of three buildings that look like they’ve been airlifted out of London. Green copper roof and intricate stonework. Its front lawn has a group of Falun Gong supporters/protesters making themselves known. A 40 minute guided tour of the Parliament necessitates an hour’s security queue. Sod that. So walk around the buildings until I find another entrance and some more security people. Discovering there’s no security queue now take the opportunity to enter the Parliament. The queue has migrated to the lift to the top of the tower. Don’t do queuing. So pass on that and make my way to the Memorial Hall. Small room at the base of the tower. Houses Memorial books from World War 1 and World War 2 listing all the names of Canadians who died in the wars. The World War 1 book is enclosed in a glass case with brass angels at each corner on a stone altar in the centre of the room. A page is displayed showing various names and is turned to the next page each day.
Now that the lift queue has subsided enjoy the view of Ottawa from the top of the tower. Still so flat. Can see for miles on this gloriously sunny, blue sky day. Downside is it’s chuffing hot.
As I leave have to pause to see the procession of the ceremonial mace to open the day’s parliamentary session. Needless to say. It’s the same style as the British Parliament’s mace.
Continuing a theme of trying to travel on as many types of transport test the amphibious tour bus. You know the ones. They have a tendency to sink. Forty minute tour of the city on the roads feels like a duck out of water. Final twenty minutes begins with a slow and tentative drive down a steep and bumpy slipway into the Ottawa River. Crossing from Ontario into Quebec as we do. Ensuring I know where the life jackets are. Ensuring the window is open for a quick escape. Oh yes. An enjoyable twenty minutes.
Back on dry land find that many parts of Ottawa are like London. Bytown Market has that Covent Garden feel. Victorian era houses line the side streets.
Notre Dame Cathedral has that grey stone look but with sunlight glinting off its brightly shining spires which almost look silver. Inside is ornate and sit down for a few moments. Not to pray, dear reader. No. A brief respite from the sun and to cool down from the heat outside.
Passing under a 20ft spider next to the Art Museum pay the CA$15 entrance fee merely to take advantage of some air-conditioning. Fantastic atrium with incline ramp up to the first floor and the Pop Life exhibition. Pop art from the 1960s onwards. Andy Warhol. Jeff Koons.
One of the installations is called ‘The Twins’.
Two young twin girls in their twenties sit on chairs either side of a glass table.
Real live human beings. Just sitting there. Doing nothing.
So that’s art is it?
Discuss.
Dead horse impaled with a placard bearing ‘INRI’.
So that’s art is it?
Cobblers if you ask me.
But then I’m a science sort of person.
It’s all a bit poor, dear reader.
In one darkened room lit by UV light they invite you to scribble on a black wall with UV pens.
The inner kid in me can’t resist the temptation to write in bold letters as high up as possible where no one else can reach ‘Touring Taurean’s World Tour 17-Jun-10’. I know. It amuses me anyway.
Such is the warmth of the summer evening decide on dinner al fresco. And where better than the terrace of the Fairmont Hotel overlooking the Rideau Canal. A feat of engineering comprising 47 locks over its 126 mile length and built in 1832 to connect Ottawa to Lake Ontario and the Saint Lawrence River.
Perfect location to watch the golden sunset. This must be the best location in town. But surprisingly not busy.
Busy writing diary as I soak up the remains of the day over a decent pint and excellent food.
My waitress takes an interest in what I’m writing about.
Explain the trip.
Asked if I’ll write a book. One day, dear lady. One day.
Promise to mention her in it. If I do.
So.
Emilie.
This is for you.
