One of the big reasons that Peter and I moved to the city was so that we could access public transit. After settling into our new home, we rode the subway and the GO train everywhere, wile our cars sat lonely and gas-filled in the garage. All that changed 18 months ago, when the pandemic forced our mode of transportation towards running shoes instead.

But our hearts remained with the TTC, and we were pleased to climb aboard to go downtown again last week. There are signs about mask-wearing and reserved seating everywhere, but otherwise not much has changed. There are the usual passengers: street people carrying bottles and cans to exchange at a recycling depot for extra change, business people dressed in suits and working on their phones, nannies cuddling babies and headed to a playground somewhere, students with their noses in books. But everyone is spread out and looking a little nervous.

There is a lot more that hasn’t changed. The same female tells us in her calming voice: “The next station is St. George. St. George Station. Change here for line 2.” There is the same graffiti on the walls near the Keele Station, and the same squeaks as you go around the corner into Old Mill. There are fewer ads above the seats, but some of them are still eye-catching, like the one from Ripley’s Aquarium reminding us that “the octopus can hunt with spine-crushing strength but still can’t grasp climate change.”

One thing we discovered while riding the subway is that this fall marks the 100th anniversary of the TTC. If you go to the website: ttc.ca/ttc100 you can learn a lot of its history, posted decade by decade. In the 1920’s for example, there are pictures of the first buses on the first route in the Junction:

In the 1940’s, due to the number of men fighting in WWII, women were hired for the first time as conductors, maintenance workers, even drivers:

In 1954 the Yonge Subway line opened between Union Station and Eglinton. People thronged to the stations to be the first to ride this new mode of transportation:

In the 1960’s subway cars were re-designed and the University line was opened:

In the 1980’s articulated buses were added and Pope John Paul came to visit:

And in the 2000’s he came back! Guess he enjoyed the ride:

To celebrate the anniversary, there are photographic displays at 12 stations. At the Bay Station you can view station concepts by local artists, or at the Finch Station you can learn about electrifying the system. At the Kennedy Station you can study Scarboro rapid transit. When you are finished visiting all those stations, you can put your feet up and shop at the TTC online store. Masks, T-shirts, books, posters, train sets, even doggie bandanas can be purchased, just in time for Christmas!

One thing that has changed for Peter and me is the 60-step staircase from the parking lot to our station. Hard to believe but it has grown! it used to be pretty short – one brief stop to catch our breath part-way up. Now it requires at least 3 breath-catches to get to the top. That must have happened when nobody was looking. Certainly it couldn’t be us at almost 2 years older, could it?

Sue

I promise you that this is not a political blog. OK I admit it – once I wrote a post about Donald Trump. Sorry; I couldn’t help myself!

But this time I’m writing After the election, so you know that there will be no attempt to “get out your vote” as they say in the business; which means going to your home very early on election day and getting you out of bed just to let you know that we can drive you to your polling station if you want. We try not to mention that you are wearing your pink bunny slippers or your pj’s with Superman on the chest.

Peter and I campaigned for our local candidate whom we know and like. We helped him out last time too, in 2019, but this time was different. The lead-up to the election was very short, only 36 days, which meant that we were always running to finish our polls in time. We seemed to be always placed with a young group leader, and he could really run fast! We had to keep up with him so we could give him our “data.” Data means that the leader wants to know who will definitely vote for our party, who would rather eat hot peppers than vote for our party, and who was undecided. This last group was our main target. Grab ’em and talk. Talk till their eyes glaze over. If we don’t get anywhere, then pass on their house number so somebody else can have a go at them.

Furthermore most days were very hot. We were sweating as we ran and we had to stop often to fill up with water. A couple of times we were canvassing close to Lake Ontario and it was so inviting that Peter had to drag me away. Sometimes we passed a local bar that was inviting too. But we had our orders – no bar-hopping, no pretending that there were potential voters inside.

But this year the thing that was most different was the anger we found at some homes. A lot of people were upset that an election was called during the pandemic. Some people were concerned that earlier election promises had not been kept. But there were a few people who were just plain rude. Since I was a school principal in my former life, I am no stranger to the “F” word coming out of the mouths of bratty kids. But a couple of adult homeowners very pointedly told me to “get the F off” their property. One woman even told me to “get the F off” her neighbour’s property too!

After several weeks of running, sweating and being sworn at, we could see the election day around the corner. Last time on election day we were scrutineers. This means that you go to the polling station, sign your life away on several forms, and then stare over people’s shoulders to make sure that nobody is voting twice or doing anything else illegal. It’s a thankless job. But this year we got a promotion! We got to be a Home Centre.

At first I wasn’t sure what this entailed. It definitely meant that a lot of people would be coming to our house to collect lists and then travel around our neighbourhood waking other people up to see their pyjamas. Did I have enough time to make muffins and sandwiches for everyone? Was the bathroom floor clean? Did I need to paint the living room red? Peter thought that last one was way too much.

Yesterday we woke up at 6:00 am to get the coffee on. The workers arrived at 8:00 and were at our house all day until 9:30 pm when the polls closed. It was a very long day. But nobody mentioned the bathroom floor or the beige living room. And this morning it was all worth it – our candidate won!

Sue

It’s been quite a while since I’ve updated you on the doings of Missy and Sissy. You may recall that we are babysitting Agnes’s pet mice while Agnes and her parents are in New Zealand. The mice have had a few adventures lately that you are just dying to read about. Right?

One day when Agnes was facetiming us from New Zealand, she noticed that Sissy’s nose was a little red. I got very upset at this news because I didn’t want to get fired. So I went to the ultimate website for mouse-sitters: Emmiology. Emmi is a mouse expert. She suggested that a red nose might be due to the bedding in the cage. Since I had just changed the bedding to a new bag, I became suspicious. I rushed to the pet store for a second new bag. Success. The red nose gradually turned pink and then the fur grew back. Sissy was saved!

Another day, Canada Day to be exact, the neighbourhood fireworks scared Missy into a frenzy. She climbed up onto the lid of the cage and I didn’t see her there when I took the lid off the cage to add some food. Poor Missy was hanging in thin air! I transported her very carefully back into the cage where she climbed off the lid and into a corner. Missy was saved too! So I am happy to report that, after 6 months, the mice are alive and well and heading into middle age. I am proud of myself for being such a successful caregiver.

And Agnes? She might have moved on to bigger things. Like lambs. As you may know, New Zealand has more sheep and lambs than people. And Agnes has cousins there whose family owns a hobby farm. She recently texted us a photo of herself bottle-feeding a baby lamb. She looks pretty excited! Could she be thinking that pet mice are a tad over-rated?

Furthermore Peter may have different plans for me as well. Last week he invited me to a workshop on composting. It sounded very scientific and worthwhile so I said yes. We arrived at the workshop to find a classroom full of little kids. Their faces were lit up with anticipation as the instructor announced that using worms in your garden helps speed up the composting process. The kids couldn’t wait to see the worms.

At the end of the workshop everyone was given a container of free worms! Peter was so excited he could hardly contain himself. As we got into the car, he deposited the worms in my lap with strict instructions to look after them and not to let any escape. I checked the container carefully for holes and then, when Peter wasn’t looking, I tossed the container into the back seat. No babysitting worms in my future, thank you very much. When we got home, Peter left the container on the kitchen counter while he went to change his clothes. Really? Worms on the kitchen counter?? How much is a caregiver supposed to put up with?

Well I am happy to report that the worms have disappeared into the outdoor compost bin and haven’t been seen since. I have gone back to taking care of Missy and Sissy. And as for Agnes, she still seems to like the lambs….a lot.

Sue

Sorry no photos: the worms are deep in the composter, the lambs have scampered off, and the mice are sleeping.

When we celebrate this weekend we seldom think about the workers who went on strike back in 1872, fighting for a 9-hour work day and a 54-hour work week. This strike eventually led to the first Labour Day parade in 1894, honouring workers’ rights.

Now that workers in Canada enjoy a 40-hour work week, Labour Day has changed focus – it’s a whole weekend and it marks the end of summer. It has nothing to do with labour, unless you count packing suitcases and lugging steaks and beer up to your cottage. People from all walks of life and all age groups make their trip to “the cottage.” You can see the cars and vans beginning their exodus as early as Thursday afternoon, loaded up with food, kayaks, and alcohol. They head north to Muskoka or east to Haliburton, stopping along the way for lunch at their favourite burger joint or for some butter tarts at their go-to bakery. They return to the city on Monday; sun-burned, waterlogged, and sleepy.

During my lifetime I have owned a couple of cottages. One had propane lights, an outhouse, and a hand pump in the kitchen for washing dishes. The other one had two bathooms and a dishwasher. Both fulfilled the same purpose: get out of town and into nature. But we also know that cottage weekends are a lot of work, packing and unpacking, and dealing with traffic jams on all the major highways. Staying in the city is not such a bad option! Here’s what we did this year instead:

On the first day we attended our annual family Tomato Day, a very Italian tradition where the family gathers to preserve tomatoes that will be used in pasta sauce for the entire year. There are also a few games, such as squeezing tomato seeds at each other. Our job this year was to buy the tomatoes and provide some of the equipment including jars and sealing lids. Well this year the lids were elusive. It seems that everyone in Toronto has moved from the gardening craze to the canning craze – tomatoes, pickled beets, jams, you name it! Between Peter and me, we figure we searched about 14 stores before we had cobbled together enough lids. The rest of the day went very smoothly.

On the next day, we went for our last swim at our local outdoor pool. This pool has been a haven for us during this hot summer. It’s just a short walk down the street to a huge heated pool with no crowds. We spent many happy hours there cooling off and getting some exercise, and our last swim was no different. Peter and I had the entire deep end to ourselves, and we could hear the kids in the shallow end screaming with delight as they cannonballed into the water, only occasionally stopping in a corner to talk about school.

Then we decided that part of the weekend had to recognize the quintessential Labour Day weekend activity – the CNE! Since the only part of the CNE that was available this year was the air show, we walked down to the lake, sat on a rock at the mouth of the Humber River, and watched the planes as they swooped and dove in various formations. We were not alone. There were pedestrians lined up along the Humber Bridge, bikers of all ages in droves, and boaters. I counted at least 50 kayaks, canoes, motor boats, sailboats, paddle boards, pontoon boats, and sea-doos, their owners taking in the show overhead.

Our final tribute to Labour Day was a BBQ outside with grilled meat and corn on the cob. And a glass of wine to toast the end of a pretty good summer, all around.

Sue

So far I haven’t really found one, and time is running out!

Fountains are attractions the world over. You may have been to some; for example the romantic Trevi fountain in Rome where you throw a coin over your shoulder and wish for a return visit tote Eternal City where you are sure to find love. Or maybe, after all your money has been gambled away, you have visited the musical fountain at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. Or perhaps you have taken a trip to the opulent palace in Versailles and seen the Latona fountain where even the lizards and frogs are gold.

In Toronto I have discovered several fountains that are noteworthy, even if not life-altering. Many act as meeting places, like the one on Centre Island where people gather after a day of exploration, and then walk together to the ferry for the ride home. Or back in the olden days when the CNE was running, people met at the fountain near the Better Living Centre to share stories of the deep-fried chocolate bars, or crispy crickets that they had eaten in the Food Building.

In Toronto I have a few favourites. I love the peaceful little park in the middle of Yorkville, where shoppers can take a break to rest on that huge piece of Canadian Shield granite believed to be over one billion years old. Once comfortably seated, visitors can gaze at the rain curtain, a steady wall of water falling in strings. On a hot day, it’s a cool respite as shoppers contemplate whether to splurge $300 on that glitzy pair of shoes they just saw in an upscale store.

Then there is the Salmon Run, completed in 1991 and located in front of the Rogers Centre. The sculpture is intended to “inspire hope for the ecological well-being of an area now dominated by human traffic.” The salmon look quite life-like as they leap into the… Oops – right now the fountain is dry. Is that a reflection of a backlog of municipal chores? Or is it another sign that our rivers and lakes are beginning to dry up as the earth warms? Either way, the salmon look desperate, suspended in mid-air.

One other park with a water feature is getting a lot of advance publicity these days. Cloud Garden and Conservatory, in the centre of the financial district, consists of a two-level greenhouse with temperatures set to replicate the conditions of a rain forest. It includes tropical plants, and a 5-storey waterfall with a reflecting pool at the bottom. A series of interconnecting ramps and bridges allows visitors to walk vertically through the gardens. The park which won a Governor General’s award, is currently closed for renovations. It is set to re-open in 2023, and will be a welcome addition to the financial district.

But my favourite is the newish fountain at Berczy Park, built in 2017 when the park was being re-designed. This fountain, on Front Street across from the St. Lawrence Centre, features 27 dogs all salivating streams of water as they stare up at a huge gold bone overhead. Kids love this fountain with the water and the dogs. I get a real thrill watching them giggle as they run through the spray and hug the puppies. It makes me feel young again – kind of like a Fountain of Youth!

Sue

PS If you have a favourite public fountain, share it with other readers.

When Peter and I were considering our move from the country to the city, we spent a lot of time trying to decide: condo or house?

Choosing a condo meant we were looking towards the future when we would want less maintenance, fewer stairs, and a simpler lifestyle. Choosing a small house instead meant we would be living in the present when we still have mobility and energy for planting a garden and hosting parties. (Choosing a house with a double garage also meat we could host parties during covid! But I digress..)

Now that we are settled into our small house, we do still have the energy for gardening and parties, but do we have enough for all the other maintenance? Hmmm… Peter started the ball rolling last week when he asked me: “Honey, did you, by any chance, plant flowers in the eaves troughs?” Apparently little shoots were poking up along the edge of the roof. Since we were planning a party for his relatives, this was an important question. He said the cousins might notice. It would be worse than dirty toilets, according to him.

So he got out the ladder, extended it to its full height, and began his climb. He asked me to stand by in case he needed anything, for example, could I sit on the bottom rung of the ladder to steady it in case he began to sway? Slowly he climbed up, holding a bucket for leaves in one hand, and using the other to climb, as the ladder wobbled under his weight. When he arrived at the troughs and began emptying them, a shower of debris, leaves and dirt missed the bucket and rained down on me. Apparently I should have had my umbrella with me! Fortunately I did have my phone, ready to call 911 in case the swaying got out of control or I got bumped on the head by the bucket.

After an entire afternoon of moving the ladder around the 4 sides of the house, Peter declared the eaves troughs clean enough for even the fussiest of relatives. The only thing left to do, he said, was… wash the windows! Well I was not anxious to do the ladder routine again, I can tell you. But Peter insisted that we aren’t too old to take this on, and I am more than anxious for an opportunity to show off my youth. Such vanity.

We were still debating about how to tackle this mammoth job, when a family member came to the rescue with a new product for us to try: an outdoor Windex product that attaches to the garden hose. Three steps – rinse, suds, and rinse again. No ladder required! And another great feature for a day of 30+ temperatures: we could wear our bathing suits and hose each other down too. I was so excited I could hardly sleep the night before. I woke up in the morning, grabbing only a quick coffee before heading to the nearest CTC. And there it was, in aisle 79 – the very last bottle of this miracle!

We easily got into our routine: Peter using the hose outside while standing on the ground, and me cleaning the windows on the inside, using only a chair. Easy peasy. Bird poop and mud splatts gone! Now I’d love to give you, dear readers, a dramatic ending: a window broke or we had a water fight, or some other exciting climax. But, aside from a couple of small leaks, there was nothing left except clean windows.

Now I m waiting with baited breath for Peter to announce our next home maintenance project. He’s sure to have another fun idea. As he thinks about it, here’s one: maybe we could paint the inside of the garage so we don’t have to put up those tacky plastic sheets the next time we have a party. Yikes! What am I saying? Surely the pandemic will be gone by the next holiday season. Won’t it?

Sue

Back in the olden days when our children were young, my running shoes were my biggest asset. It seemed that I was always chasing the kids. And now that they are grown up, it’s no different.

I have vivid nightmares of watching Jennifer or Jamie running out on the street after our dog Snoopy, as I chased after them, praying that no cars would come screeching around the corner. As they got older I chased them around the house in a more figurative sense, checking to see that they were doing their homework, and not just hiding in a corner talking on the phone to a friend. As they moved past their teens, I followed them in a van loaded with furniture and clothes as they settled in to whatever university town they had chosen.

Now that they are all grown up, have changed their names to Jen and James, and have families of their own, the chase has taken on a more long-term aspect. First of all Peter and I decided to move from our small village north of Toronto into the city, so that we could be closer to all the kids; Peter’s too. All 5 of our newly-blended families lived in the GTA and we were the envy of many friends whose children had moved to BC, Florida, and even Australia. We didn’t actually Admit we were moving to the city so we could be closer to them, but that was certainly part of our thinking.

Then Jen and her husband moved from Toronto to Orangeville. They joined Richard’s sister, and they loved the lower house prices. Hmmm… would we like to live in Orangeville? I looked at the website and discovered that Orangeville has a lot to offer. There are sweet little boutique stores, scenic hiking trails, and delightful restaurants. I even wrote an entire blog post about the carved trees on the main street (See April 13, 2021, Walking On Broadway). But moving there from a big city? Maybe not for us.

Next, James started talking about moving to Barrie. Great house prices there too. But battling snow storms on highway 400? Not a good way to spend the winter. Then he and his wife began hinting about moving to the Philippines, where Glenda’s family live. It’s a lot cheaper to live there than in Toronto, for sure. But an awful lot farther than Barrie. We tried not to think about it. Moving there as an option for us? Too hot!

Last February, Peter’s daughter Andrea and her family moved to New Zealand. (And we got Missy and Sissy the mice). They said it was only for a year, but Agnes has already let it slip that they may stay a few months longer. As for us moving there – it is a beautiful country which we visited a few years ago, but it’s miles and miles away from everybody else.

Then, a few weeks ago, Peter’s son Dan and his wife Jenny tossed us a bombshell. They would be moving to New York. This month. A great job offer and the thought of living in the most sophisticated city in the world was hard to turn down. So they have packed up. We will be storing some of their personal items, but fortunately they have no mice, and they are taking their dog with them. Would we move to NYC? With condo rentals more pricey than gold, probably not. Besides, there are immigration details to be worked out, a very lengthy process unless one is going for a specific job. But we could visit!

And I guess that’s the solution. Stay in one city, that we love, and keep our suitcases handy.

There is still one “child” who hasn’t declared any moving plans. Maybe we could suggest a place. How about England? We haven’t been there in quite a while…

Sue

Peter and I have travelled to many places in the world. But there are a lot of spots in Canada that we haven’t seen. During a pandemic, our own country seems like the perfect destination: safe and close.

So last week we hopped on a river boat in Kingston, stored our suitcases under the tiny beds in the tiny cabin, and began eating. Oops I mean travelling. It was very safe: everybody on board (29 passengers and about 12 crew) was vaccinated, we all had covid tests before boarding and temperature checks every morning. Everyone wore masks except on the outer decks and while eating, (which, come to think of it, was a Lot of the time!). Our suitcases were sprayed with disinfectant on the dock, the ship was cleaned constantly and the tables and chairs were well spread out.

Our journey took us up the St. Lawrence River to Montreal, and then North-west on the Ottawa River to the nation’s capitol. We made several stops along the way: at a boating museum, a pioneer village, a fur trade museum, a fort, and a wildlife park. Our sense of Canada as a country was validated.

The history of our people is one of trying to survive in a hostile climate of winter snow and summer bugs, wildfires and tornados. We stay in touch with nature because we are surrounded by it; bushes, trees, and entire forests are everywhere. We owe a lot to those scary grizzlies, annoying raccoons and other small animals that were the mainstay of the fur trade industry, and helped us build a thriving economy through trade with Europe.

We also owe a lot to those early settlers who built homes from logs that had to be cut down first, and who grew vegetables with no tools and no commercial fertilizer. They made bread by first milling their hone-grown wheat and then baking the loaves over an open fire. They created clothes from scratch, starting with killing the animals and then tanning their hides. There was no Home Depot, no Sobey’s and no Winners nearby.

Our trip confirmed that we are primarily a peace-loving country. Our one major war was back in 1812 when forts popped up along the waterways that separated us from our enemy at the time – the US. Families followed soldiers and often lived together in the forts as battles were won and sometimes lost. Kids had to sleep on the floor under their parents’ beds, with the rats scurrying around them. Our soldiers fought hard, using primitive defenses, and the loss of life was high.

We saw on this trip how much we all love being in and on the water. We navigated through 5 lift locks, one so big it held 15 power boats along with our ship, and one so narrow we could touch the sides as we went through. Before the locks were built, Indigenous people had to portage around all the rapids they found on the St. Lawrence and Ottawa rivers, which they used as highways for their dugout canoes.

Nowadays life is different for us Canadians. We buy up cottages on those same rivers as well as lakes, at exorbitant prices, so we can conveniently use our power boats, sail boats, canoes, kayaks and paddle boards. We visit bears safely enclosed behind barriers in the zoo. We shop at malls and super stores. And or biggest battle in the last 100 years has been against a virus. All it takes for us to win is to stick out an arm and get vaccinated. Seems like a small price to pay when we look back at the sacrifices made by our ancestors.

Sue

One of the big thrills for Canadians is eating outside. Maybe this is because we can do it so rarely, while we navigate through so much bad weather. Throw in a pandemic and, by June, Peter and I were desperate to eat outside on almost any patio we could find.

June 11th came along and, with it, the announcement about patio re-openings. We barely took time to put on our shoes and lock the door as we sprinted to our favourite neighbourhood patio. It’s tucked in behind a pub, has a tarp over the tables to keep out the rain, and a large-screen TV for watching sports. Plus it has great food! All the tables were filled quickly on that first re-opening day, and the large-screen TV was ignored as people shared their stories of being stuck inside all winter.

Then one night a week later I had a dream – we were sitting on a patio on Queen’s Quay at the Lake Ontario waterfront watching the boats go by. I woke up Peter early to tell him where we had to go. We waited all day and got to the waterfront just in time for dinner – along with the rest of Toronto. The patios were jammed and there were long line-ups everywhere. Imagine – everybody else had had the same dream! Finally we found a new spot – the concert area had morphed into a beer place with limited entrees such as pizza and fries. It would have to do. And the lake view was a dream come true.

Next it was time to meet my brother and my cousin for lunch. One family lives in the Niagara area and the other lives in Port Dover, so we looked for a patio that was equal distance for everyone. We came up with a patio on Lake Ontario just over the Burlington Skyway. It was busy too so we went early and scored the prize – one of only 2 tables for 6.

I was on such a patio high after this that I called a friend who is always up for an adventure, and I suggested Casa Loma. This is a patio that Peter and I tried out last summer. The gardens were spectacular and the food was gourmet. I got a reservation for my friend and myself for last Tuesday night, although I had to leave a credit card number to hold the table. This was high stakes but we were both really excited and discussed what we would wear – something new, maybe even hats!

On the day before, we checked the weather and the forecast was for 30% chance of rain. We had a chat and decided to take a chance. But by Tuesday morning the forecast had changed to 60% chance of rain with possible thunder and lightning. We could picture our gourmet meals getting rained on and our new hats soaked as we wandered through the muddy gardens, hoping lightning wouldn’t strike a nearby tree. Finally, after a lot of waffling, we decided to cancel.

I went online and located our reservation. Up popped a message: “If you cancel this reservation with less than 24 hours’ notice, there will be a charge of $40 per person.” The other option, the message said, was to go to the patio, sit at our table and order the food, get rained on while we waited, then pay our bill and take the food home to eat. That didn’t sound like an appetizing option either! So should we pay $80 and get nothing, or go anyway and risk being hit by lightning? (Well maybe I am being a bit dramatic…)

What did we do? We did nothing! And soon enough the rain, thunder, and lightning started. Along came a message from the restaurant: “We notice you were a no-show for your reservation. Write your explanation below in 50 words or less.” I felt like I was back in elementary school, writing out my sins on the blackboard. But I did it, and I tried not to be too sarcastic about the lightning.

Well I’m pleased to announce that, instead of a detention, I got a pardon! The search for new patios continues. If you have a favourite outdoor spot for lunch or dinner, share it with our readers.

Sue

No, we didn’t sneak off to Barbados, or even Cuba. Now that Peter and I are fully vaccinated and the Covid numbers are dwindling in Toronto, we are back to exploring our city. No need for us to travel any distance to find an adventure.

Our jaunt last Friday was to the Toronto Islands. We realized that neither of us had been there for several years. Peter remembers taking his kids to Centreville for the rides and the junk food when thy were little. I remember taking an adult ESL class there when it was raining. And raining, and raining. We all went home soaked. That was a field trip nobody will ever forget, especially the ones who got pneumonia. (Only joking!).

Our commute was easy: GO train for $1.97, Island Ferry return trip for $5.50, enough money left over for a gourmet lunch. The ferry ride gave us a glimpse of the day to come: families with little kids, grandparents, young couples, strollers, bikes and lots of dogs. The crowd easily dispersed once we had landed. Peter and I followed the biggest group, bypassing Centreville and finding ourselves at the fountain with its beautiful gardens. There were lots of colourful blooms, all except the hedges which were a dull brown. The gardener explained that boxwood moths had eaten all the leaves. Apparently they couldn’t find any concession stands open. Or maybe it’s another sign of climate change.

Next, we decided to follow the path towards Hanlan’s Point, where Peter knew there was a clothing-optional beach. On our way we saw signs of one of Toronto’s climate change initiatives; Deep Lake Water Cooling. This is an idea of Mayor David Miller – for cooling large office buildings and condos; so successful that it is being expanded on the Island. Further along near the beach we saw another environmental project: Sand Dune Restoration.

We also discovered some history. The original lighthouse on the island, built in 1808, is the oldest surviving lighthouse on the Great Lakes. The early lighthouse keepers formed the nucleus of the first Island community. In 1945 the light was changed from white to green, to distinguish it from the lights of the city skyline.

Heading further along the path, we kept searching for Hanlan’s Point. It was a long way and I started salivating over the people who passed us, riding those 2-seater bikes. It seemed to me that the wife could easily avoid pedaling while making small talk to distract the husband.

Then Peter spotted the sign for the clothing-optional beach and it was all I could do to hold him back. I wasn’t sure whether he wanted to take his clothes off, or just enjoy the view. Luckily, there was a small concession stand nearby and the food was enough distraction to get him back on the right path, so to speak. We had our gourmet lunch – beer and hot dogs – all by ourselves on the patio.

Eventually we got to Hanlan’s Point and found the statue of Ned Hanlan, Canada’ s most famous rower. Hanlan’s family lived on the Island and he made the news when, at age 5, he rowed all the way to the mainland by himself. Over his lifetime, Hanlan won enough competitions, including World Championship in 1880, to fill an entire monument. Hanlan was also a Toronto alderman in 1898 and 1899.

In the background, we suddenly noticed the CN Tower and the Skydome. It was time to catch the Hanlan’s Point Ferry back to the 21st Century. But we have made plans to return. Next time we’re going to rent one of those 2-seater bikes and ride to the other side of the Islands. Peter will be too busy pedaling to worry about the clothing-optional beach.

Sue