Having safely returned from a road trip to Ontario with some of my brood I am slowly working my way back into reality. Work reality, home reality, East Coast reality...just reality ok. We had a good time visiting and doing touristy things. Stinking hot though, pause for thought if I was to ever consider moving back to the big smoke...that and traffic.
Having said that there are some real upsides to the big city. The plethora of restaurants, the culture, the museums and the sheer number of things to do are exceptional. Another thing I really enjoyed was the neighbourhoods. Driving through Bloor West Village on a busy Friday afternoon while heading to the ROM rekindled a certain nostalgia for the neighbourhood fruit stand beside the bakery beside the butcher or deli. Sure, these days you have to insert a Starbucks and MacDonald's into the mix but there remains a certain charm that you don't really get here in Halifax. Closest I can think of is the Hydrostone area. The difference seems to be the fact that the shops bordering the main street are fortified on either side by homes. Lots of homes on neatly rowed streets, with lots of kids running around, retired folk watching over the neighbourhood (who needs an alarm system when you have nonna on the job) People live there. All kinds of people. Proud Portuguese flag wavers (Euro2016 of course), Korean neighbourhoods with corresponding signs for the population. It really is a cornucopia of culture, bound together with food and family and traditions. I kind of miss that. It seems the teeming population is face forward there while here in Halifax, you have pockets of people wandering around but not in the same way. They don't have their bags full of fruit from Guido's or some sliced cured meats from Paulo's. Yes, we have Ratinaud here, which is excellent, but it seems to be a niche and therefore an expensive way to get your fix of pate and proscuitto. It's different.
And when we moved on to Old Quebec City I fell in love again. A long past love affair rekindled. My God how I love that place. Yes I know, visiting is not the same as living there but just let me have my fantasy will you. Steep, narrow cobblestone streets simply exuding old world charm. Cafes, bistros and artisan shops...I had the biggest grin on my face and could not contain my pure glee at being back in the quarter. My kids certainly think I am certifiable after my jubilant response. Nine hours of driving could not deter me from sending a few precious hours behind that magnificent walled city. Dining al fresco, riding the funicular, strolling around the Chateau Frontenac...yes please, can I have some more. I related to my kids how when you come to this magical city in the winter you feel like you're in a snow globe. I know my soul belongs in Europe but the grand dame would fill in pretty good I think.....le sigh
Well, perhaps I should do some work.
Ciao
D
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