Road Trip

Breakfast In New Brunswick

This summer we are going on an old fashioned road trip, driving from Dartmouth, up to visit our daughter, Alisha in Kejick Bay, Ontario. On the way we plan to stop in Quebec City, Brockville, Peterborough, Toronto, Sault Ste Marie, Thunder bay and finally Kejick Bay. Some stops are just overnights, but we are visiting our son Ryan in Toronto, and finally getting to meet some of Derek, our daughter's fiance's family.

This trip was completely organized by me. Anyone who knows us will know that this is not the usual, as Regis normally does ALL of the trip planning, but this one I have done myself. The goal was to visit Alisha, so it was organized around getting to her school before the last day of school, so she could bring her parents to visit her school. I simply split the trip up on Google Maps into reasonable driving distances with stops in Toronto, Peterborough and Thunder Bay to spent time with people.

This did not work out so well . . . . our planned stop in Quebec City coincided with the G7 meeting, so visiting the beautiful old part of this lovely city was not advised. Even out where we were there were busses full of RCMP who provided security for the meeting. As well, we could not bypass Quebec City for Montreal, as the Canada Grand Prix was being run, so it would also have been way too busy. Then, our son who we planned to visit in Toronto called to say he was suddenly told that he had an unavoidable two day meeting in Halifax during our two day stop in Toronto.

A chilly picnic lunch

The first part of the trip from Dartmouth to Toronto is very familiar for us, as we have been visiting our son in Ottawa and Toronto for over 10 years, so the drive is comfortable but it is always interesting to see the differences. Since we started driving the route through New Brunswick into Quebec, the road connecting the Trans-Canada Highway in New Brunswick to the Quebec Highway 20 along the south side of the St. Lawrence River has been under construction. Every year there is a tiny bit more that is twined but there does not seem a lot of interest in completing this 95 km section of road into a real highway.

Dinner In Quebec City

We have a routine for this section of the trip. We get up early, stop outside Moncton for breakfast and then in Edmundston for lunch. This usually got us to Ottawa in time for dinner with our son. This trip we are trying something different. I put together a little two person Picnic bag, and we have a nice 12 volt cooler for the car, so we plan to stop for lunch at rest stops or picnic areas. It was a good plan except for the chilly 10° temperature at the first rest stop in Quebec, so our first picnic stop was a bit of a rushed meal to get back in the warm car.

I hope I can find interesting topics to write for the blog on this road trip. I appreciate all the people who told me they were looking forward to me travel tales.

City Life

A nice city walk

When I was 15, we moved from a house on a street of similar houses in the “burbs” to a 100 year old farm house on 250 acres of land. Although I had grown up living in the city, I took to country life quickly and found I loved it. I looked after a neighbour's heifers in our barn, and worked on his farm in the summer. To this day, I do not turn up my nose when we drive past a field spread with manure; to me it is a pleasant reminder of living in the country. This idyllic country life only lasted a year however, when Dad got transferred to Halifax with his work and we were back in the city. My love of the “Country Life” remained and my goal was a house with land in the country. When I got married we had an opportunity to rent a nice house in the country with lake frontage for a ridiculous low price. I'm glad we were renting, because I hated it. I think I went down to the lake twice, and every time I needed something it involved a 30 minute drive to the city. That was when I discovered that my idealistic dream of the country life was not what I wanted – I had become a city dweller.

Traffic

I discovered that I loved living in the city and the closer to the heart of the city the better. There are a couple of factors causing this. One was that I like to walk. I walk to get groceries, I walk to take pictures, I walk to explore, I walk to visit friends and family. Walking in the country was usually a walk to "walk"

How to totally mess up a busy intersection.

with no real goal or destination, just out and back; walking in the city is always new and exciting. After years living in the city I am still discovering new trails to hike, neighbourhoods to explore or places to walk to.

The other factor is I love being around activity. I love walking through crowds of people, I love traffic, I love ships coming and going, I love construction. The hustle & bustle of the city that bothers many, I find interesting. Although not a particularly “Social” person, I love watching and observing people. The city is the place to do this. I enjoy walking through peaceful forests and country meadows, but my favourite walks are exploring cities.

Lots of people to observe

When my son moved to Ottawa, he lived right downtown and I loved visiting him, and his move to Toronto puts my visits right in the middle of one of Canada's most vibrant cities and I love spending time there. We visited friends in Vancouver who for a while lived in an apartment right in that city's heart and I immediately knew I'd love living that close to things. I found that when I travel I gravitate to rentals in the heart of cities or towns all over the world. I love being able to walk to city markets and finding local wine shops. Regis says I can somehow “smell” markets and always manage to find interesting markets to explore. When I retired I spent three months in China in an apartment in the Suzhou and could walk anywhere. We had an apartment right on the Danube in Budapest, another just outside the wall on the river in Chester UK, one right in the middle of the walled city of Lecce Italy, and on the waterfront in Auckland. I loved them all.

I've discovered that I have become a city person and love life in the city. The country is nice to visit, but the city is where it's really at.

What is 'Haircut' in Hungarian?

When I knew I was going to be away for a month touring the capitals of Europe, I arranged to get my haircut a day or so before leaving. Joking with my barber, I suggested that since I’d be in Europe, he might want to give me an “European” cut. “Art,” he replied, “I’m Italian, I’ve been giving you an European cut for the last 40 years.”

Don't take my picture, my hair needs cutting!

Regis is not so lucky, she has been searching for 40 years to find a hairdresser she likes, and the search is not over. As a result, she is normally trying to get an appointment anywhere just before we leave to get her hair cut. She is not usually very happy, and this time, after examining her cut in the mirror made the girl go at it again to make it short enough and thin enough to last a month. It didn’t matter; two weeks into the trip she was Marge Simpson every morning and her hair was driving her crazy, so she was again using English to explain to someone who does not speak English how she wanted it cut. This is always the situation, and it has made for some interesting stories, so when she came back yesterday, I felt a Blog Post coming on . . .

Don't know why the cut matters, she always wears her hat.

There was the time on the cruise ship, crossing the equator in the Atlantic Ocean on our way to Brazil, when she decided her hair was annoying enough she was willing to pay the cruise ship spa prices. As she chatted with the hairdresser, she commented about her accent, and asked where she was from. OMG, she was from Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, and Regis got the employee discount.

Then there was the scary punk-biker-tattoo-pierced hair cutter in Vancouver who turned out to be a real sweetheart, and actually did a pretty good job. The Portuguese Hairdresser had no one at all who could understand a word of English and she still went ahead with that cut and was almost pleased with it.

 

Don't look at my hair, look at the scenery.

Of course the best haircut story is the drop-dead-gorgeous 85 year old in Ottawa (Many of you have already heard this story, so you can tune out now). Needing a cut while visiting the children in Ottawa one Christmas, it was suggested she try a popular shop close to Ryan’s house. After several failed attempts to get in, she was told the only person available was the “Senior Stylist”, but “he was 85” she was warned. She said she did not care, and was given an appointment in 30 minutes. “Imagine”, she exclaimed to me, “that is blatant ageism – I don’t care if he is 85 and a “Senior” so long as he can cut my hair. 30 minutes later she was shocked to have a handsome young fellow working on her head, but was a little worried about what happened to her 85 year old stylist. Enjoying the expert attention and the attractive hairdresser, it all became clear when she got to the desk to pay and was informed that the bill was $85.00. Sometimes you need a translator even when speaking the same language . . . .

Love my new cut!

You know the really sad thing? It makes no difference; I usually can’t tell the difference between one cut and another, and I always get into trouble for not complimenting her on her lovely new haircut. Of course when I do make a favorable comment it is invariably when she really does not like the results of the cut. Oh, I think the Hungarian cut yesterday slipped into the top 10 best . . . .

April in Ottawa

Ottawa, our nation’s capital, is usually a beautiful city. Our tax dollars are used to ensure the city looks it’s best for visitors and guests. However like some great beauties she is not the best after just waking up from a sleep. It has been a hard cold winter, and in April the city is not quite ready to receive visitors.

The Ottawa River

We have experienced winter in Ottawa, and the civic workers who maintain the city have their hands full during the winter months just keeping the snow off the streets, so the daily debris from Ottawa’s busy inhabitants simply gets pushed around with the snow rather than picked up, and as the snowbanks disappear in April, months of neglect start to appear. Not only the public areas, but the little private patches of gardens and green in front of the houses are littered with winter’s debris.

Yesterday was a warm sunny April day, and fresh air and exercise was just what my stubborn cold needed, so I set off on a leisurely stroll around Ottawa, down through Centertown, Chinatown and down to the Ottawa river where I walked along the pedway below parliament to the Rideau which I followed to Summerset and finally cutting through

Tire Garden needing weeding

Elgin & Bank to get back to Ryan’s house. My walk showed me that Ottawa really is not at it’s best in April.

The Ottawa River was carrying the last of the melting river ice from upstream, but the ducks and Canada geese were dodging not only ice, but chunks of Styrofoam, logs, campfire remains and all other unsorted debris. The Rideau Canal looked no better, drained to a minimum water lever (for Spring cleaning?) with melting ice chunks still remaining, the skate changing houses sitting at awkward angles at the edges, and showing the castoff from a busy winter season of skating on the longest outdoor rink in Canada.

The River's Load

The normally pristine public walkways look the worse. Stairways corners are filled with leaves and garbage, and the grass alongside paths show the scars of snow plows and other Winter damage. I was surprised to see the amount of animal damage along the river. Many trees and shrubs were stripped of bark by hungry animals and one large tree was gnawed through and toppled by what I suspect was the good old Canadian symbol, the beaver.  The Rideau Canal walkways showed it’s use by winter skaters and the number of wet, lonely and muddy single woolen socks, mittens and hats was amazing.

A Garden?

Don’t worry, it’s only April, and on my walk I saw many little private gardens raked and cleaned with Springs flowers already poking through, and sawdust and piles of branches are evidence that the work crews have started the annual Spring cleanup. I’m sure that by the time the Canadian Tulip Festival in May rolls around, the city will be looking her usual best.

Wandering Ottawa After the Storm

Waiting for Spring

It snowed yesterday in Ottawa, there was even a “Snowfall Advisory” which is something for Ottawa where I believe it snows almost every day in the winter. There was a parking ban, so I had to find some place to park the truck, and the kids who live in houses without parking had to relocate their vehicles as well. 

This morning the snow was over, and the sun was shining. It was a

Golden Ice Sculpture

 good time for a walk, for the fresh snow gives everything a clean fresh coat, and city is buzzing with activity with everyone cleaning up from the storm. The city of Ottawa does snow removal very professionally, and they mobilize an army of men and equipment to clear the snow and bring the city back to normal. Ryan and Alisha live on a busy major thoroughfare, and I’m sure during the storm and following it, some sort of city snow removal machine goes by every 30 minutes, and around the corner from Ryan’s house, a neighbour dressed in safety reflective jacket has had his snowblower going since early morning, clearing sidewalks and neighbours parking spots. Don’t know if he gets paid or if he just enjoys it, but he has been going at it all day.

Snowed In

I went out for a walk through the streets of Ottawa taking pictures. Sometimes the new snow creates interesting subjects, sometimes I just notice something new. I enjoy doing these walks every time I come to visit, and always find photographic subjects. For example I found a building with steam seeping from wood trim of the roof, and dripping onto the frozen ground creating golden ice sculptures. That much moisture leaking out of the roof can’t be good for the building and I have no idea what was causing it, but it was interesting.

And, it is strange how these Ottawa walks always seem to end up close enough to the Manx Pub that I find myself unable to resist the call of one of their cold amber ales . . . . 

Co-Operative Christmas Dinner

 I recall Christmas' when my mother was up early to get the turkey in the oven in time for the meal to be served in the afternoon, and her Christmas mornings were spent preparing everything in the kitchen while we all tried out our new toys and tried on new clothes.

What's Christmas without Turkey?

Not so here in Ottawa this Christmas. We trained our children right, and they have both developed excellent culinary skills, and enjoy cooking. As a result the meal was a co-operative effort with everyone chipping in something. We elected to do Christmas dinner on Christmas eve because Alisha is going to Deep River with Mark tomorrow afternoon, so you get to read about our Christmas Dinner before your's.

I started my contribution the evening before. I was trying a new recipe for the turkey. Alisha swears that brining is the way to go, but my Christmas gift subscription from her last year to Cook's Illustrated” claims that salting, not brining is the best way to ensure a moist turkey with crisp and browned skin. I spent the evening pushing salt under the skin all over the 15 pound free-range “organic” turkey Ryan had purchased to allow it to salt overnight. This afternoon, I pressed herbs and spices under the skin, and Ryan and I prepared a dressing of local sausage bread and chestnuts.

Working Together

Ben prepared an appetizer of bacon wrapped chestnuts and jalapeno peppers in a delicious barbecue sauce, to keep our appetites at bay since we were not eating until at least 7:30 PM. They were hot, sticky and spicy-good! Alisha introduced us to the “Pim's Cup”; cucumber, citrus fruit & strawberries in a mixture of Pims, Ginger Beer and Lemonade over ice.

Ryan's Beans

Although not a traditional “Christmas” vegetable, Alisha decided to add beets to the meal. She boiled them, peeled and chopped them into cubes and served them with a very interesting garlic walnut butter and goat cheese. Unusual but very delicious. She also made a “nightshade” free sweet potato and orange marmalade casserole.

Ryan, along with helping with the dressing, took one of our traditional Christmas vegetables, and updated it by shredding the brussel sprouts and frying them with bacon and balsamic vinegar. They were delicious but hardly recognizable as our old favourite vegetable. Ryan also made green beans served with a shallot and filberts sauce. A bit “oniony” for me, but enjoyed by everyone else.

Regis cooked up her traditional cranberry sauce, and she sort of oversaw everything else and made sure that everything had a place to be cooked and came out of the oven and off the stove at the same time.

Now some things just shouldn't be “messed” with, so I brought my traditional steamed Christmas pudding from home ready to be heated up, but I changed the sauce, using rum instead of brandy as flavouring and added chopped filberts for a bit of a different touch.

The dishes are cleaned up, mostly by Mark who arrived too late to do much cooking. Regis has made some lunch-to-go turkey left-over casseroles for the children when they go back to work next year, and the turkey carcass is boiling away on the stove for a turkey soup later in the week. Everyone contributed to a delicious, successful Christmas meal.

White Christmas

To cold to hang out the wash.

No Problem Getting Around Here?

I’m sure there are WAY colder or snowier places, but for someone used to Halifax’s milder, mostly snow-free winters, Christmas in Ottawa is way more wintery than I am used to.

White Christmas? Not really a question here in Ottawa. Winter made it very clear that snow and Christmas definitely go together - it started to snow on the drive up from the East Coast as we got to Montreal, and some sort of cold wintery precipitation, be it snow, freezing rain, or cold nasty winter rain has been falling ever since. It snowed over 30 cm one day, and school wasn’t even cancelled - what’s with that? fifteen centimeters would have paralyzed the school busses back home.

But to be fair I do recall an hour or so of sun one day . . .

Are they kidding?

Good Idea.

While it is certainly Christmasy it takes a bit of getting used to. The sidewalks are perpetually icy,  and many street corners have huge slushy puddles to negotiate. Suddenly those Sorel  -25 rated boots are actually useful. I guess the Ottawa natives get used to it, but it isn’t even Christmas yet and I’ve had enough snow.

Now although I am complaining about the snow, spending Christmas up here in Ottawa with the children and their friends is really wonderful. 

The Perfect Pub

Ottawa's Manx Pub

A few years ago a new pub opened up in Halifax to a lot of fanfare. The architect apparently spent weeks hanging out in pubs in Ireland to get the feel and look of a true “Irish pub” and this new place was designed with all the features they found in “real” pubs from across the pond. It is a nice place; looks very “Irish”, beer is good, and food is tasty. I've been there once.

The first time we visited our son Ryan in Ottawa, he insisted on taking us to this fabulous pub for brunch. We had to be there at a specific time or we could not get a seat, and it was quite a walk. My first impression was not great. There was a faded sign hanging on the corner of a building and a set of dingy stairs leading down to a black basement door. The place was crowded but we found a seat in the corner. There was a hole in the wall across from my seat. Five years later, that hole was covered with duct tape and painted over, but little else has changed. But . . . I can't imagine visiting Ottawa without making at least one trip to this pub, the Manx, for at least a beer if not a meal.

What is it that makes the “perfect pub”? Why do I love going back to the Manx in Ottawa, yet have never returned to the “authentic” Irish pub in Halifax?

Essential to any real pub is good beer, but I prefer to find some nice local brews that I can try. It is also really helpful if the servers know something about the beer and are willing to give an honest opinion. I often ask them for recommendations, and a good server is willing to tell me something about what they serve. I like to hear that “the local IPA is particularly hoppy”, and when a server tells me that they have a favourite brew I will usually take their advice and try it – I've rarely been disappointed. Better than having the server tell me they “Don't really like beer.” or when visiting Columbus Ohio, I asked about “local” beer and was told that they serve “Miller Light”. In a little pub in Bangor Maine the server was so excited about two local beer that when I chose one, he gave me the other one as well for free just because he wanted me to try it. I go back there whenever I'm in Bangor. The Manx always has some interesting beers from the Ottawa area, and the servers are knowledgeable about what they serve. A good server recognizes someone who likes good quality local beers, and when you choose something they suggest they often will return and not just ask how you liked the brew, but discuss it with you, comparing opinions and tastes.

Pub food is not always good food, but a good pub always has good food. Ottawa's Manx excels in this area. Their food is amazing; interesting and unique. The menu is not your usual burgers and sandwiches, it is closer to gourmet restaurant fare. Ryan tells me that their cook/chef, has been there for years so he must find something satisfying about working in this tiny little spot, for his talent surely could get him a position in a big fancy hotel or restaurant. The Manx has a continually changing menu, and it is always interesting to find out what is featured on the “Specials” board, but another of my favourite pubs has a menu that always seems to remain the same. I can depend on getting a “Knotwurst & Kraut” or a Knot Burger made from local sausage at the The Knot pub in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. These two favourite meals are always the same and always excellent. It takes very little to convince me to pair one of these two specialities with a nice cold Knot Ale whenever I'm in Lunenburg.

Although quality beer and delicious food are essential to a perfect pub, equally important is the atmosphere, the genuine feel of the place. I like The Old Triangle in Halifax. Their beer isn't extra ordinary, but they pour an excellent Guinness, and their food is “good”, but it is a pub that just feels comfortable. I go back to the Manx in Ottawa, or the Knot in Lunenburg because I enjoy sitting in these pubs sipping a good beer. I just like being there; they feel good. This is something that you just can't import from Ireland. It isn't the authentic wood counters or special bar stools, it is just something that feels right. The owner of the Manx obviously knows this and has left the place alone. The display of local artists on the walls changes, but the copper wrapped tables have always been there, the tables back in one corner are still awkward to get to and the servers still pass your beer through a window to those tables, the “Special board is still leaning against one of the thick pillars, and when you try to read it from your table, the servers will go bring it over to your table so you can get a closer look, and I think that hole in the wall in the corner is still there.

Now that is what makes a Perfect Pub. Sit back in your favourite chair in your favourite pub and have another cold one.

Skating on the Rideau

I have achieved another retirement goal. The first year our son Ryan moved to Ottawa for university we came up to see how he was doing over March Break, and there was still ice on the Rideau Canal, and people were skating on it. Ryan told us about the annual Ottawa Winterlude festival, and about how skating on the Rideau was a big part of the event. I decided then that it was something I wanted to do, but we were busy that year, I forgot my skates the next year, and the next the ice was gone by March even though I had my skates. By this time, retirement was just around the corner, and so I declared that skating on the Rideau would be one of my “Retirement Goals” - I would come to Ottawa during Winterlude, visit Ryan and skate on the Canal.

The Rideau Canal is part of the Rideau Waterway system, and extends 202 Km from Ottawa to Kingston. The canal is part of the 19 km of manmade waterways that connect the lakes and rivers on this UNESCO World Heritage Site completed in 1832, and still operating much as it did when opened. In the winter, Ottawa maintains about 7 km of the canal as the world's largest skating rink. The nice thing about this is that it is right in the heart of Ottawa, and is accessible by thousands of people from January to March.

When I retired in June last year, I set about proving to everyone that I didn't need to find work to be active, and I started doing all the things I had always wanted to do. Some of my goals were difficult – take up painting, write the novels I had been planning for 15 years, or renovate the house (Well, that;s my wife's goal really), but Skating on the Rideau was pretty easy; go to Ottawa, put on skates and go skating. Ryan said I could come stay with he and Arran, Airfares were reasonable, and I had nothing else planned for February.

When I started telling peole I was planning a trip to Ottawa, my dad and his wife said that they would like to come as well. Now the last time I was skating with my dad, I fell and dislocated my shoulder, so he, me & skating are not an automatic mix, but he is 80 now so I thought I might be able to keep up with him. With three of us travelling it became more logical to drive, and having no schedule to work around I simply kept an eye on Weathenetwork.ca, and choose a day with sunshine from Halifax to Ottawa. Then Dad's mother-in-law heard about the trip, and said that since we had room for another in the car could she come as well. So long as they were willing to travel my way, in my car I had no problem, and we had a lovely pleasant safe drive to Canada's capital.

Arriving in Ottawa Thursday evening, we met Friday to try out the ice. The Rideau Canal starts at the Ottawa River below Parliament Hill, and the city of Ottawa promotes skating on the canal as a major attraction during the winter. The city maintains the ice, puts special stairways to get to the surface, and benches to change into skates, places information about the canal , and installs a series of change houses, washrooms, and concession stands at strategic places along the canal. All in all, the city does an excellent job with this attraction.

The first day we skated 3 km down the canal, took a break with Back Bacon sandwiches, Beaver Tail treats, and hot chocolate, and then skated back to where we started. I knew that Ottawa “Maintained” the skating surface, so I had visions of teams of Zambonie drivers grooming the ice under cover of darkness every night, and discovered that this certainly wasn't the case, and the ice is well-used outdoor ice, with cracks, bumps, and rough patches, but it was a thoroughly enjoyable skate, even for me who had not been on skates since that afore mentioned dislocated shoulder incident. I went back on the canal on Sunday to experience the crowds during the first weekend of Winterlude, this time walking to the 3 km marker and skating to the beginning. Then on Monday, I waked down to the Byward Market to do some shopping , and then skated in the other direction, from the start all the way to the 4 km mark before getting off and walking back.

Now that this Retirement goal has been achieved, I will try to do it again next year. Ottawa is a lovely city to visit, and I have enjoyed seeing it in the winter this year as well as in the summer when it is all dolled up as Canada's capital city. Maybe next year I'll do the whole 7 km.