pedestrian

So I've learned that Toronto is really big. Things are far away from each other. For example: despite living 'downtown-ish' I actually live 4.25 km from work. My under-exercised body is still in shock that I expect it to traverse that distance twice a day on foot.

But the walk is lovely. Setting off southwards on my street, I admire the well tended front gardens of the Italian families, and compare architecture styles. No Montreal walk-ups here, Toronto is all about the front porches where people relax on easy chairs and watch the goings on of the sidewalk.

I cross College street at the heart of little Italy. The Sicilian Ice Cream Cafe is to my right and a sausage shop to my left. Instead of banners hanging from streetlights there are outlines of Italy in white chrismas lights. Complete with the islands. They look sweet and only mildly kitchy at night, but at 8 in the morning I barely notice them.

Further south is Dundas St, nominally Little Portugal. Crossing Dundas, I wend my way through a park and end up on Queen West. The park is usually quiet in the morning - some runners, pedestrian commuters like me, and occasionally an old man doing tai chi on the tennis courts. On my way home in the evening, the park is full of baseball teams, tennis players of varying caliber, and people walking their dogs.
Every day I ache for a dog. (Perhaps this is the overture of my hitherto non-existent maternal instinct...)

The final stretch is Queen St West. Slightly grotty shops selling clothing I can neither afford nor pull off - I was born without a hipster gene - are interspersed with restaurants, fabric and bead shops and the ubiquitous corner stores, their front steps festooned with buckets of cut flowers. Though I love the flowers, I carry an irrational grudge against the shops for not selling beer and cheap, bad wine.

(I think the archaic alcohol selling system could be ultimate reason I will never fully fall in love with Toronto. The provincial liquor stores are terribly stocked, the beer emporium bears a strong resemblance to Lordco auto parts stores, and the hours of opening are bizarre.)

As I continue east on Queen, the street gradually cleans itself up, such that, by the time I reach Spadina, I've passed a series of chain shops and at least two starbucks outlets.

And then it's into the featureless office buildings and the blacked out windows and heavy double doors that signal clubland. A quick turn south and I can see my office building, the neighbouring Corona bottle gently waving in the breeze.