Katty and The Mooch

For the first time on this trip, the rain was pattering on the windows this morning. Dark clouds scudded across the eastern Toronto skyline and I thought, “Bugger, we're supposed to be going out this morning".

By the time we'd reached street level, though, the rain had stopped and blue skies were apparent, which was what was forecast. This now fine day we were heading to St Lawrence Market, over in “Old Toronto", actually just a ten-minute walk from Bay Street. On Sundays there is a secondary St Lawrence market that sells what we thought would be antiques and the like, but turned out to be largely clothing. There were a couple of stalls with stuff you might see in flea markets on their tables, but not many. Given that there was a DJ pumping out “tunes" at one end of the hall thing the market was enclosed in, we didn't stay long. Personally I will always avoid loud music when trying to browse or shop, but then I'm just old and crotchety. DW did purchase some vegan comestibles at a stall just outside, but then we moved to the market proper, a place we had visited when we were last in Toronto.

St Lawrence Market is two floors of an old building, purpose built I'd guess, that houses stalls selling food, some prepared and cooked, some not. It was heaving in there, but we browsed and came away with two hot sausage rolls for my lunch, to compliment the things that DW had bought.  A couple of the stalls had long lines around them, clearly the popular places to eat, but I'm long past the point where I'll queue for food like that when there are alternatives.

We sat outside at a picnic table to eat lunch and watched the sparrows at work. DW's lunch wasn't good apparently, and my sausage rolls were not quite what I had expected, so it was a solid three out of ten for our meals.

We'd left the “Do Not Disturb" sign off the hotel room door, to give the housekeepers a chance to clean, so we didn't rush back. We walked down to the lake front and then westward past the Redpath sugar refinery, surely the last industrial site in Toronto that remains right on Lake Ontario. We investigated a supermarket we'd not heard of, Farm Boy, and bought a few bits and pieces, all vegan, and while the prices were not cheap, we deemed the place “good".

We then set off back to Union Station to pick up a Subway train, but glimpsing the Old City Hall at the end of Bay Street, we opted to walk to the hotel. Walking the streets of any big city can be hard on your legs and your feet, but the effort was worth it as we took in the old and the new skyscrapers that line Bay Street.

When we arrived back at the hotel, the room had indeed been serviced, so we settled down and rested, in preparation for the main even of the weekend, our visit to the Queen Elizabeth Theatre and “The Rest is Politics US" live show, with Katty Kay and Anthony Scaramucci. DW had bought a nice big vegan lasagna from the Danish Bakery, so that went in the microwave, and turned to be a really nice early supper, lining our stomachs in preparation for the main event.

We set off for the theatre at about six-thirty, heading to the Subway first, then to the streetcar out to Exhibition Loop and Toronto's events area. I think the place used to be known as the Canadian National Exhibition, CNE, but the CN seems to have been dropped. It's a large area with concert and events halls, an open-air arena, theatre, and the football stadium that's home to Toronto FC. It used to be served only by the GO Train and road access, but the streetcar line has a loop station there now, which is very convenient for us public transit types. The only trouble, though, was that we boarded the wrong streetcar at Union Station on our way there.

The streetcar station is underground at Union, and right next to the subway station. As we made our way to it, there was a streetcar already in the station, and I was convinced that the indicator board that hung from the ceiling said it was the 509 to Exhibition. Unfortunately, it wasn't, it was the 510, and I only realised when it lurched to the right at Queen's Quay and made its way north up Spadina Avenue. When you're actually in the streetcar, there's no indication which service you're travelling on, just the next stop. If you don’t know the stop names, then that’s not much use. After a couple of minutes confusion, and asking someone, we confirmed the error and hurriedly alighted, catching the next 510 service going south back to Queen's Quay. There we alighted again and walked over to the station just past Spadina and waited for the 509. This time, as we could see the front of the streetcar, we knew it was the 509 going to Exhibition. I think Toronto's transit authority, the TTC, could do with some indication inside the streetcar as to the service number, just to help out-of-town rubes like us.

As we walked from the streetcar station, we were joined by a couple of women also heading to see “Katty and The Mooch”, and I was happy to guide them as they weren’t sure of their map. Me being me, I had already scoped out the walk on Google Maps, and I’ve been to the Exhibition area a couple of times. It was good to see the football stadium all lit up; the grass was being zapped with artificial sunshine, water, and a bit of pretend wind, because that’s how good playing surfaces are achieved these days.

The show was excellent, two hours of good political comment, a few jokes, and an audience so anti-Trump and pro-Canada that it made me smile. I’m not a rabid nationalist for Canada, but I understand solidarity with the home country well enough.

The ride back to the hotel was easy enough, the transit systems run well into the night, thankfully. It was surprising just how quickly the Subway platform filled up, though, while we were waiting at Union; it was quite like the rush hour, albeit nearly eleven at night.

DW was hankering for some greasy fries, but all the food places were closing as we walked back to the hotel, so we had to make do with (more) peanuts. They went well with the wine we felt duty-bound to finish.

Tomorrow is leaving day, so we stayed up late and packed our bags, hoping to get away at a reasonable hour. Monday, then, is another day.