someone parked their canoe by the Gardiner Expressway
After a late night returning from Montreal and an early morning at The Firm, I wasn’t sure if I had any energy left over to walk home after work. It was much hotter than last Wednesday, but I got my second wind, I splashed in the waterpark (timely discovery!), I had on proper shoes this time, and a much bigger bottle of water. I wanted to see if I was any faster with a different route, which in my calculations would be if a) I wasn’t taking so many photos, and b) I didn’t wander into dead-end alleyways. But it was still overall 10 minutes faster than Thursday, even with unexpected detours.
It was a great walk, that’s for sure, I am getting to know my own neighbourhoods better and better.
Loved these two! David was always a big fan of jug bands, and he introduced an appreciation for them to me. Check them out online: www.jitterbugswing.com
Roaming performers at the Place des Arts:
Saxophonist Allan McLean with the Jacek Kochan Quartet:
Canadian Armed Forces, 2005 Alcan Dragonboat Festival, Vancouver
Greetings from Montreal, where I pulled in at 3am with two 11th-hour rideshares from Toronto, minutes before my host left her apartment and left her keys so I could get in! It was the end of a really long day that started before 5am, on account of working from 6am while my colleague is on vacation instead of my usual half day… a little detail I’d forgotten when I told my German couchsurfers that I’d pick them up at the bus station Thursday morning at 9am!
But it all worked out in the end: I had them drop their stuff off at my office while they toured around the city, and we all went to the house together so I could show them around the neighbourhood. Time seemed to accelerate again once I’d arranged the two rideshares — I didn’t have enough time to eat dinner, I had to drop off the USB cable to the person whose mobile I’d borrowed to use in Portugal, then shower, pack, say goodbye to the Germans and leave for Montreal. Little did I know the traffic on Highway 401 was at such a standstill, even at 9pm, that I could’ve eaten a three course steak dinner right there on my steering wheel. I should’ve known better, there is traffic every time I drive here, even enroute to Quebec City, except the last time when I wasn’t doing the driving.
The amazing part is that after being awake for nearly 24 hours, I managed to find my host’s house at 3am nearly two years after the last time I’d been there. It doesn’t sound like such a big deal when there are maps and GPS, except my phone was nearly dead (that’s the only place I had her number) and I’d forgotten to print out the number and a map — things I do every time I travel for this very reason…
Now, to explore Montreal’s art scene with my camera and meet a bunch of local folk for Canada Day. I leave you with a homegrown video called “Canadian, Please”, which left me wondering: where on earth can you buy a Mountie outfit?
As I was packing up to leave the office I got an idea… no, it wasn’t an idea to raid the office ice cream freezer again, although that is a daily temptation which I’ve been thankfully able to curb.
I’ve always wondered how long it would take me to walk home. I guesstimated somewhere between an hour and a half to two hours, depending on which route to take, of which there are many options. Today I decided to try it, time it, and see if I calculated correctly. I did a fair amount of zigzagging, choosing paths which had the fewest traffic lights rather than the most direct route to my house.
Once I arrived home I replicated my route using Google Maps, which reports that my distance was about 8.6 kms (5.8 miles), and minus the photo stops it took 1 hour 40 minutes. You’ll see by how many fountain photos I took that I was really faffing about with the cameraphone in the Exhibition Grounds, then on the bridge near Dufferin Arch, waiting for a GO train to go by so I could take the shot above. I also wanted to get a shot of BMO Field, where fans were gathering to watch a match, but I took too much of a detour and decided to try it again another day (with a proper camera).
Now that I have that challenge out of the way, my next challenge is to forego buying a July Metropass (since the TTC didn’t mail them out, anyway, due to the postal strike) and see if I can get myself to/from the office using a combination of tokens and walking this summer. If things go well, I’ll sell my August Metropass and maybe buy a bike to replace the one that was stolen ages ago.
I have two posts sitting in draft that just get longer and longer but I don’t have time to finish them. Brevity must prevail today! Work calls. So, I’ve uploaded five photos of the beach where I spent my birthday afternoon, near Aveiro. There was a little girl playing in the sand and running from the waves rolling up the beach, which was cute to watch and I waited a bit to take some photos that would make a series. The lighthouse in the background, Farol da Barra, is Portugal’s tallest lighthouse (see where it ranks in height according to Wikipedia); its light can be seen as far as 43 km out to sea.
The beach was a perfect spot. It wasn’t crowded, there was plenty to photograph (the birds even co-operated!), and the temperature was just right, mixed with the ocean breeze. Thanks, Paulo!
Childhood living is easy to do
The things you wanted I bought them for you
Graceless lady, you know HOW I am
You know I can’t let you slide through my hands
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away
I watched you suffer a dull aching pain
Now you’ve decided to show me the same
But no sweet, vain exits or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn’t drag me away
I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie
I have my freedom, but I don’t have much time
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried
Let’s do some living after love dies
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we’ll ride them some day
Wild horses couldn’t drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we’ll ride them some day
Greg recorded/posted this video to YouTube on September 4, 2007, just a few weeks before he died in a motorcycle accident in Lisbon at the age of 28. I moved mountains trying to get to his funeral, but in the end my passport renewal timing worked against me (it didn’t arrive in time to catch my flight), and instead of attending a funeral in France my car broke down in Bath, New York.
For two years, since before the time David entered cancer treatment, Greg was a consistent presence in our online lives: email, Skype, messages, doing whatever he could to stay in touch. He was in the same online community (Orkut) where David and I had met, but we hadn’t met him yet. We’d been planning a honeymoon in Europe that included a stop in Lisbon, where he was living at the time with his Estonian wife.
Greg was an exceptionally talented guy, an artist: musician (guitar, piano), photographer, designer, an expert in post-production just like David, and would communicate with us in these ways. In the second half of 2005 he sent us messages of encouragement, prank Photoshopped photos, music files, and kept reaching out to us. After David died, he tried to Skype with me all through 2006, but I was depressed and didn’t feel like talking. In 2007 Greg was still living the good life in Lisbon — surfing, always going out, busy. But he hadn’t given up trying to get me to visit Portugal. Greg loved it there, and he thought I’d love it, too, but I don’t think I was in the right headspace to enjoy it properly yet.
By Summer 2007, after my trip to Iceland, I was beginning to live outside of my head again and Greg was finally able to persuade me to Skype with him. I don’t have a webcam on the PowerBook G4, so it was just me viewing him and me on a microphone. He played a Damien Rice song on his guitar and we talked for at least an hour, maybe even two. I lost track — there was a lot to say. There is no archive of that Skype session, but what I would give to live it again… by coincidence, it was exactly four years ago now and all I remember is the good feeling afterward, that we could talk about David and me and finally make some plans for me to visit him in Portugal and get a taste of his life.
And then, in the early hours of September 29, Greg lost his life. I later realized exactly where I was at the same time when the accident happened in Lisbon, five time zones away. I was also driving around, but in Pennsylvania, in the pitch dark rural roads of Lake Wallenpaupack, searching for the way to my friends’ house. I was overtired, driving after work from Toronto like I always do, and nothing looked familiar. I was running out of fuel and I couldn’t find a station that was open. It was the middle of the night. I’d been lost for over an hour but I didn’t want to call and wake anyone up. I was in the danger zone for being able to drive. For the first time ever, I made the decision to find a place to pull over in the blackness and sleep by the side of the road. Meanwhile, Greg was in Lisbon after a night out with friends and faced the same decision — stop or go — but he chose to go, to ride his motorcycle home. From what his friend told me, Greg likely fell asleep at the wheel and was killed on impact.
That was a huge wake-up call for me. Pun intended. Since 2007, I have pulled over and slept in my car many times on the long distance trips I’ve taken since. Most of them have been 8-10 hours of driving in a single stretch, more than most people attempt. I used to push through the sleep barrier, but I don’t anymore. Last December, when it turned out I had pneumonia, I slept in the car at a service plaza along the New York Thruway for four hours with the engine running until the snowplows woke me up.
I think about Greg from time to time, especially when people search for him online and find my website, which shows in my stats. I also think of him in random moments: whenever I see Sony Alpha DSLRs, guys playing guitars, motorcycles, maps of Estonia, surfing, and other disconnected things. When I think of Greg I can’t help but think of Portugal. He was from France, but he really loved Portugal. I’m sure my subconscious (and Greg) has been prodding me to go ever since, and this year I finally listened.
I kept my promise, Greg. Wild horses couldn’t drag keep me away.
What began as a little picnic break in the middle of the afternoon at the lakeshore by myself morphed into a meetup with a friend for a walk by Humber Bay Park East that turned into a full-fledged dinner by the Etobicoke waterfront. I arrived home after midnight, almost 8 hours after I left the house to get a sandwich and buy groceries. (I still haven’t bought groceries.)
Consequently, all my photos were craptastically shot by smartphone rather than DSLR. I think my favourite shot is of the orange Triumph that was beside me in traffic along Lakeshore Boulevard. It was a gorgeous evening to enjoy by the lake without lugging a camera bag, and the bonus of the stroll through Humber Bay Park East is that I stumbled upon the local memorial dedicated to the victims of Air India 182 — a place I’ve been wanting to visit for a while now.
I’ve been adding more photos to the album, and it has over 200 photos in it thus far. There are several ways to view it, the best way is as a full-screen slideshow in Flickr which shows the photos larger, with more detail in the images, and autoplays the videoclips. If you’ve seen some of the photos already and don’t want to see those all over again, you can also view the set’s thumbnails (arranged in chronological order) to see the new ones. Or, just sit back and watch the smaller slideshow below (give it a minute to load):
KAMA Indian restaurant, King Street West (a la carte this time)
KAMA Indian restaurant, King Street West
TD Toronto Jazz Festival
Jordon John & the Blues Angels, TD Toronto Jazz Festival
Jordon John & the Blues Angels, TD Toronto Jazz Festival
Aretha Franklin, TD Toronto Jazz Festival
Aretha Franklin, TD Toronto Jazz Festival
What’s missing is showing Sigrid (from Norway) around downtown after work, and then five hours later the serendipity of bumping into a local photography contact at the streetcar stop on the way home — someone I’ve been wanting to meet for years. Then reaching my house and joining the next-door neighbours’ backyard party at 11:30pm. A fine way to end a summer evening, I must say.
Just booked a floatplane joyride tomorrow morning (10:00), departing Billy Bishop Airport. You still have time to get in on the flight! #fb10 hours ago
Calling all #aviation buffs! Booking scenic ride in floatplane tomorrow am out of YTZ, takes up to 3 pax & need 2. DM me if interested! #fb13 hours ago
