Earlier in July I determined that I didn’t want all of summer to get away without me doing anything (given that we don’t take the “big” vacations in the summer, something the rest of the world seems to find odd), so I made a list of things I wanted to do:
Swim in a lake
See a play at Stratford (or somewhere)
Visit Toronto
Somehow, in the weeks these activities all got slotted in, other things also came up, so relatively speaking (that is, not compared to the parents and the workaholics, but for me), I’ve been pretty busy.
The weekend after my mother-in-law and sister-in-law visited was the long weekend, which began with a nice long lunch with the girls at Verses. Then on the Sunday and Monday (we couldn’t get reservations on Saturday), we went up to Tobermory. Sunday was mostly about getting there, but we did also visit the little town which was, of course, packed. They have a nice art gallery, but most of the stores are a little on the cheesy side.
We stayed and dined at the Grandview Inn, the only place there listed in Where to Eat in Canada. It was nothing fancy, but it was good food, well prepared, and with a very reasonably priced wine list. The only thing is that the food prices didn’t seem quite as reasonable, with entrees from $27 to $32. On the other hand, I can’t say I wouldn’t eat there again. When in Tobermory, where else you gonna go?
The next day we had a very enjoyable hike in Bruce Peninsula Park.
It seemed a bit chilly for swimming, though, so we moved on to Sauble Beach for that. Though not the hottest day of the summer, both the air and water were warm enough to make that fun.
On the way home, we tried a new restaurant in Goderich: Thyme on 21. This one we were really impressed with—creative seasonings and all. Would definitely eat there again.
The following weekend, I went to see The Tempest at Stratford, with a couple friends. We dined first at The Waterlot in New Hamburg, which was quite enjoyable, then took in the sold-out Shakespeare performance. It was very good! I hadn’t realized that it wasn’t a tragedy, so all the comedy of the first half was something of a surprise! The cast, led by Christopher Plummer, were very good, with the woman playing Ariel particularly impressive (apart from Plummer, but I expected to be impressed by him).
The next day we had a 120th birthday party to attend: a couple who were each turning 60. Although we didn’t know tons of people there, it turned out to be a nice gathering. And Jean finally got to hear the violin he had helped build be played. It sounded very good.
This past Tuesday I had the ladies over to discuss The Best Laid Plans, our book club book and also Waterloo Region’s One Community, One Book selection this year. I would recommend it, though it doesn’t have too much competition in the Canadian comic political novel category.
Then Friday and yesterday, we went to Toronto, by train (which happily didn’t go on strike on us). Weather was quite cooperative in being sunny and warm, but not insanely warm. We visited the Distillery district for the first time, admiring the many art galleries (one of which actually had an original AY Jackson. Just beautiful, and only $551,000!). We had an OK dim sum lunch at Pearl Harbourfront (I think Cameron in Kitchener is better) and a more enjoyable, though not spectacular, dinner at Vertical Restaurant on King West. And we stayed at the uber-cool Pantages Hotel.
Saturday we met up with Joanne and Jon, finally seeing where they live. Quite a nice condo. And after we spent a bit of time at Harbourfront.
Next weekend, the calendar looks clear at the moment. And that’s just fine!
This weekend we had visitors, so we ate out a couple of times.
The Bauer Kitchen is a relatively new restaurant, the latest in a series by The Charcoal Group. I’ve always found Charcoal restaurants to be solid but unexciting, but was curious to try Bauer mainly because every item on the menu is paired with a particular wine by the glass.
Being lodged in a renovated factory, the place itself has a fair amount of character, which is nice. The high ceilings and Saturday night popularity made it somewhat loud, though. The service was perfectly respectable. Pretty informal (“Hi guys!”), but attentive, and no big waits for orders, food delivery, or bill pick-up.
As a starter, I had the mixed mushrooms tart with St. André and Romano cheese. I had some fear would be too cheesy, but that was not the case; the mushroom taste predominated, and was very good. That was paired with a Chilean pinot. Others at our table had cold melon soup with prosciutto, part of the Summerlicious menu, and declared it merely OK, and baked brie with sugared pecans and fruit. It’s hard to go wrong with baked brie.
For the main course, I went for the Cioppino. This version was a pile of tomato-y onions and sweet peppers, topped with several kinds of fish and seafood. I was pleasantly surprised how well the fish was done, with nothing overcooked. The vegetables had a definite sweet tinge, which was not unappealing. Also tried was the duck, found to be good but not great (nice sauce, but possibly overcooked); baked trout that was apparently also prepared very well; and prosciutto-wrapped pork tenderloin with mashed potatoes, both a hit. My dish came with an Australian white of a type of grape I’d never heard of before, and now can’t remember. But it was fine, maybe a bit Chardonnay-like, and did suit the food.
Dessert for me was a mix of sorbet and fruit in an ice wine sauce. I couldn’t really detect the ice wine, but the sorbet was very nice. I had that with one of their specialty coffees (instead of the recommended ice wine), made with steamed milk rather than whipped cream. The other two desserts were declared perfectly appealing as well.
Overall, of course, it was not Verses or Langdon Hall quality, but then again, it’s cheaper as well. I would declare the Bauer Kitchen good value for the money.
Sunday we headed out to Beamsville to visit a few wineries. After a stop at Rosewood, where I got a Gewurtz and a Riesling, we went for lunch at Angel’s Gate Winery. The menu is quite different: It offers four platters, all intended to serve two people, on these themes: Regional, Quebec, East Coast, and cheese. We went for Regional and cheese. Then, most of us also opted for flights of wine, which is 2 ounces of four of their wines.
The Regional platter was really nice, with lamb loin, absolutely delicious tomatoes, green beans done up nicely in a truffle sauce, pickerel fillet, and crepes with berries and goats cheese. The cheese assortment included Cheddar, a Hermitage blue, a brie, and another, with a good selection of fruit and crackers.
The setting there is gorgeous: an open terrace looking out over the vineyard. And Sunday was beautiful; a perfect day for that type of lunch. Having four types of wine and so many types of food was great fun, and really, the perfect way to taste wine. Though in the end, I only bought their Tavel-style rosé (just $11.95!).
Après lunch, we headed to Crown Bench Estates, known for their flavored ice wines. Jean’s sister picked up a few of those, but we stuck to the 2007 reds, bringing home the Meritage, which is a blend.
Somewhat rounding out the culinary weekend (which, Saturday, also featured a stop at the Olive Grove in Elora, for olive oil and vinegar tasting), we made a foie gras and duck breast supper, all based on LCBO recipes. The duck was accompanied by beets, oyster mushrooms, and mint, in olive oil and balsamic, and it turned out really well. (Yes, better than at Bauer Kitchen.) The side of Jamie Oliver roasted potatoes, with very fresh rosemary and sage, were also a hit.
I’d mentioned to some that the SD card from our trip had cracked right in half when inserted into the computer. Well, it turns out that Windows 7 has a feature to help you recover from such a thing. To access it, simply remove the card, reinsert it, and accept the repair option. In the end, we lost very few photos. (And I’ve finally managed the finish the web pages about the trip.)
Too bad it took us a few weeks to figure that out.
*****
Have a new iPod classic. Well, new to me. I bought it used on Ebay. It’s in excellent shape, though; looks brand new. I was mainly after greater storage capacity, and boy do I have that now: 120 GB. Given that it’s taken me 5 years to get to 30 GB, that should be enough for some time. It’s also black, which is somewhat cooler-looking than the white. And it has a better screen, a “cover flow” feature (which I’m not entirely sure of the point of, but is weirdly compelling to look at), more information displayed about each song and playlist, and the ability to create Genius playlists on-the-fly.
The Ebay experience was a little stressful due to uncommunicative seller, but to his credit, he was very fast in shipping it out. So fast, in fact, that he didn’t even bother to remove his 60 GB of music first. So much music, so little I have any interest in. To start fresh? Click that scary, never-before-used “Restore Factory Settings” button.
*****
More nice tributes have come in for Pete Quaife of The Kinks, including an obituary in the Globe and Mail on July 1, by one his former—but post-Kinks—bandmates. Also very beautiful was Ray Davies’ dedicated rendition of “Days”, the most perfect song to sing to a departed friend (and a song he’s often associated with Pete in the past). Ray almost loses it on the opening lines.
On our fourth trip to France (after our honeymoon European tour that included parts of northern France, the 2006 Valentine week in Paris, and the Pauwell’s tour in Provence in 2009), we mostly visited the Languedoc-Rousillon region, which is in the Southwest, near Spain. We also spent a couple days in Paris. These are the things that particularly struck me on this trip.
Everything is beautiful
Much like Spain, which of course it’s close to, this is beautiful countryside: mountains, beaches, castles, vineyards, charming little towns of stone, rivers, bridges. It didn’t hurt that we had constant blue sky, but every day, wherever we went, we also had fantastic views. (And Paris is in the most beautiful city in the world.)
The roads are insane and the GPS will try to kill you
We purchased a new GPS before this trip and loaded European data onto it. This did prove very handy in finding our way in our rental car. Finding the anglicized pronunciations of French streets and cities near incomprehensible, we switched it to French mode, and let the nice GPS lady tell us which sortie to take in the rond-point and when we had to serrez à gauche. If we happened to miss a turn, she would recalcule and find us the next best route.
The only thing we were having trouble understanding was why, despite selecting the “fastest route” option, which should have kept us on the major roads (such as they are in this region), we were forever being directed onto tiny little winding sideroads, sometimes on the edges of cliffs, that seemed barely wide enough for one car, let alone two. Or that in the little cities, instead of taking the main road through towns, she had us go turn off onto tiny laneways and over what certainly appeared to be pedestrian bridges.
It took a number of days of hair-raising adventures before we figured it out. The French, it appears, take a very simplified approach to speed limits. In town, it’s 50. Approaching towns, it might be 70. Between towns, 90. And highways are 110.
But that 90 between towns—that’s for every road, no matter how tiny, twisty, or cliff-hanging. Of course, nobody actually drives anywhere near 90 on them. But the GPS, not knowing, would look at the many 90 speed-limit roads available to us, and select the shortest one, or the one interrupted by the least towns. So it wasn’t trying to kill us. It just lacked a windiness/narrowness factor in selecting the “fastest” route. (It become quite a game watching the GPS’s “estimated time of arrival” creep up and up as we wound around the 90-limit road at around 40 K an hour…)
You will eat when we say you can eat
On the first day, our B&B owner warned us that, in this region, meals were served between 12 and 2, and between 7 and 9. Period. So part of daily planning was always making sure to be in a city during those hours, so we could eat.
The very first day, this plan was stymied by another, unmentioned factor about this region: Restaurants may be closed on any given day. And apparently, if one is going to close in a city, quite possibly they all will. So our Monday plan to have dinner in Mont Louis was stymied when three of its restaurants were closed for dinner on Monday, leaving only one, and that one was overrun with a bus tour group.
So we took to the road, but of course, the GPS had us on some crazy narrow winding road, so our estimated time of arrival kept creeping up and creeping up, threatening to make us miss the 9:00 deadline entirely. And we were hungry! In the end, we were saved by Pierre Lys’ willingness to seat and feed us, despite the 9:02 PM hour.
Less dramatic but still somewhat astonishing was the restaurant in Espéraza (where we were staying) that we tried to go to four times, finding it open only once. (It was really good, but we were the only people there. Wonder why.) One of those nights, our second- and third-choice restaurants also proved to be closed, although it was Thursday! We ended having to eat at the same restaurant we’d eaten the night before, the very elegant Duc et Joyeuse. Excellent food and service, so there are worse things. But still.
Paris was quite refreshing in that we could eat at whatever time we wanted.
100 mile diet? Try 100 yard diet. (At least for wine)
Local takes on a whole new meaning in an area that has as many vineyards as Languedoc Rousillon. When the restaurant says C’est du vin local, they mean that it was made within walking distance. So as we visited different little towns, we got to try different wines with our meals (though often made with similar grapes).
What we didn’t do was visit any wineries. As we were afeared of the weight limits on our flights, we didn’t want to buy any wine. No buying meant why bother going to taste them at the wineries? In a way it was a relief, as the opportunities were plentiful, and trying to narrow down the choices would have been chore—albeit a fun one.
And actually, it isn’t completely true that we didn’t visit any wineries. Part of our trip package included a two-hour wine-tasting course. But although it did take place at a winery, it was independently run, and featured wines from 8 different producers. It was really well done. We were particularly taken with the sparkling, fruity wine from Limoux and a wonderful Cabernet Franc (not a typical grape of the region), but really, all 8 were good.
… As was lunch afterward. And this was my first experience on getting refills on a glass of wine. A glass. “I love France!” I exclaimed after every pour. (Possibly, as the DD—designated drunk, so Jean could drive—I was a little tipsy at this point.)
Other highlights
Lest you think we only drove, ate, and drank… We also did and saw cool stuff. Like:
Shopping at the Mirepoix market
Seeing Carcassonne, the second most-visited city in France
Walking through the Gorge de la Fou, France’s Grand Canyon
Climbing up into Chateau Perpeytuse
Enjoying the beautiful beach city of Collioure outside of peak tourist season
Reading the story behind the Rennes-le-Chateau mystery, while on site
Visiting the Paris neighborhood of the Marais
Of course I’ll be writing more detail this and the rest later…
… And that’s pretty good for me. The key, I’ve found, is trains. And given what’s currently happening at airports, more of us may be taking trains. At least take comfort in knowing it’s good for literacy.
… even though, I have to confess, two of the three books were consumed in Audible form, on my iPod. That way you can also watch the scenery. And the snow-covered trees were really pretty.
OK, the most important thing about finishing Oryx and Crake is that I’m no longer in the embarassing position of never having read a Margaret Atwood novel. Yes, I know. You’d be amazed at the great authors I’ve yet to read. Though, to be fair, I have tried reading Margaret Atwood before. I just had to give up about a third in, due to incredible lack of enjoyment. (Not even sure what book that was, anymore.)
But Oryx and Crake, I found really interesting. It’s an Apocalyptic future kind of tale, taking place in a globally warmed future where a single remaining homo sapien coexists with “Crakians”, genetically engineered humans who lack humans’ more destructive impulses. A lot of the realities of the book—the bizarrely genetically engineered animal hybrids, the smart technologists locked away in compounds away from the “plebe-lands”, the reliance on medicine to treat everything—seemed somewhat plausible, only a little beyond what is actually going on.
So it was an unpleasant yet somewhat familiar world, and it was fairly engrossing uncovering the mystery of what led to this point.
I had seen and enjoyed the movie, so I got curious about the book, which I did actually read, and without the benefit of train motion. Julie Powell had a blog that covered her efforts to make all 524 recipes in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, in one year. Though a personal strain (these are not easy recipes), the blog became very popular—ultimately becoming a book, then a movie (obviously).
Watching the movie, I somewhat related to Julie. She and I both like to write about food, for example. She and and I both cook from written recipes (as opposed to just whipping up your own thing, which is a whole other talent). She and I are both in a long-term, childfree marriages to really sweet guys.
And reading the book, I found even more similarities. Like—I kid you not—her total obsession with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One of the most dire crises of the book is when CBS wants to interview her on the night of the very last Buffy ever!
So part of my brain thinks, geez, why didn’t I think of blogging about making all of Julia Child’s recipes in a year so that I could get a book deal, and a movie deal, and get to write another book?
But then I’m reminded that there are some key differences between Julie and me.
She’s much more open than I about writing about personal, embarrassing stuff, for example. And that is a big part of the charm and appeal of the endeavour, which made it a success.
There’s also the fact that she was really dissatisfied with her secretarial job, and her difficulties in getting pregnant, both necessary fuel for taking on and maintain this crazy project of hers. (Along with occasionally copious amounts of alcohol, cigarettes, and expletives.) Me, I don’t have quite enough angst to take on making boeuf bourgignon until 2:00 in the morning, sustained only by nicotine and rum.
And most particularly… Frankly, I would never do classic French cooking. Reading the book, even more than seeing the movie, made me realize I have no interest in this type of arduous cooking: Digging out bone marrow, making gelatin from a calve’s hoof (seriously! apparently smells like a tannery), chopping up a live lobster (all the parts squirm, it appears), boning an entire duck.
This was the return trip audiobook. I had downloaded Fahrenheit 451 as well, but that was starting to seem like a little too much apocalypse for one trip, so I dug around and stumbled upon this one, the first Sookie Stackhouse mystery. OK, vampire mystery. But the vampires are still incidental, even though I realize this is the second time they’ve been mentioned in this post.
And also, that all three books are from a single individual’s point of view.
Anyway. In this case, the point of view is Sookie Stackhouse’s, a telepathic bar waitress in a world where vampires exist and have just attained legal status. Sookie meets Bill, a vampire who sets her small Southern town a-twitter by deigning to live in it. She’s intrigued because she cannot read his mind; this comes as a major relief. But their path to true romance hits stumbling blocks in the form of the murder of women who have a sweet spot for vampires.
Jean declared this too much of a chick book for him, though not too much for him to listen from start to finish.
I found it diverting enough, but I’m not sure I’m compelled to read any more of these. Sounds a bit weird to say given that the main characters are a vampire and mind reader, but there were more supernatural elements introduced later in the novel than I wanted. Made it a bit harder to believe in the world. Sookie was a fun character, it had some nice sexy bits, and I was curious about the murderer’s identify. But it’s not something I’d say you’d have to go out of your way to read.
(In case anyone was wondering, I haven’t yet seen True Blood, which is apparently based on, but very different from, these novels.)
The day after the concert began with breakfast at the Day’s Inn, which turned out to be rather better than these continental hotel breakfasts usually are, thanks to the available waffle batter and waffle iron. They did run out of coffee, but we were able to save that one by making a pot in our room afterward.
After checking out, and getting the word of mouth that general notices on the concert were good, we headed to the hottest spot in Ontario—the Flu Clinic! Seriously, we decided to go see if Orillia flu clinics were being run any better than Waterloo Region ones. And boy, were they ever. Very short lineup, everyone in it quickly assessed as to whether they qualified (Jean did, as a healthcare worker; I didn’t even try—I do have some morals) and given a time to expect their shot. In our case it was so soon, and the weather was so fine, we just stayed in line until it was done. The whole thing, including the 15-minute after-shot wait, took half an hour, 40 minutes, maybe.
Oh, and Jean had no after-effects from the shot, other than the expected sore shoulder muscle.
After that triumph, we headed to downtown Orillia to see what might be interesting there. We spent some time in a kitchen store (weirdly, perhaps, Jean likes kitchen gadgets as much as I do—maybe even more), and got ourselves a few things, and some Christmas stuff. We also traded casino concert stories with the owner, who had apparently seen a very awesome Santana show there. (Actually, it did sound great.)
Next was a clothing store that had some used, some consignment, some remainder items. So really great prices, and stuff for both men and women. Jean tried on this leather jacket that fit him really well. And this almost never happens—he’s just not an “off the rack” size. So at $19.99, that was pretty hard to resist, so we didn’t. He also got a leather belt, while I picked up three tops. The grand total was under $60.
It was around lunchtime at this point, and we were hungry, so we decided to go to the “restaurant in a train” place that we’d been to on our last visit to Orillia (to buy the tickets). We had the same waitress! It was an enjoyable enough meal. In particular, my scallop appetizer, in chili and cocoa, was quite nice, and Jean enjoyed his main of lake trout (or some local-ish fish like that).
We now figured it was a reasonable enough time to head toward Singhampton, where we had bed and breakfast and dinner reservations. The drive was just fine, and we had spotted the B&B on the way up, so no trouble finding it. It’s called the Avalon, and while not the cheapest B&B ever, it’s really nice accommodations. You get a whole downstairs (not basement) area to yourself, with huge windows onto a beautiful view. The owner also toured us around most of the rest of the 5000 square foot house, all very open and festooned with stained glass. And interestingly, it uses geothermal heat (and cooling).
The grounds are also huge, and we took a little walk around those next, and got some photos (as above). Then it was nap time, as neither of us had slept that well the night before. Then up to get ready for dinner at Haisai.
This would be Michael Stadtlander’s new, cheaper (though certainly not cheap) restaurant. And the room is very characteristic of him and his wife Noboyu, with a crazy festooning of pottery and all natural wood furniture. Noboyu recognized us from our stop in August and generally made us feel comfortable. We were a bit surprised to see that the restaurant was not sold out on this Friday; it was maybe two-thirds full. And they were having fireplace issues, so it was a little cool in there.
But, everyone wants to know about the food right? It was a 10-course tasting menu. I made a point of writing down what we had that night.
Single New Brunswick oyster—I forget how seasoned. But very nice.
Smoked hock (from their farm, smoked for six months) on whole-wheat bread made there. The meat had really lovely taste and texture not quite like any other “ham” kind of thing I’ve had before. (And I do mean that in a good way.)
Jerusalem artichoke soup with shallots and smoked pickerel. This man is really a soup genius; I couldn’t believe the creamy, wonderful taste and the contrast with the shallots. You almost didn’t need the fish.
Georgian Bay lake trout (caught that day) in wasabi butter with blue potatoes. Definitely a highlight, the fish was meltingly good, and the sauce was so amazing, it was difficult not to lick the plate after. And the potatoes tasted pretty remarkable, too.
White fish on a sauce of beet, chervil, and carrot, with spinach puree. Also a great combination of flavors.
Salmonberry (or maybe some other kind of berry?) sorbet on wild apple. He’s also quite good with the sorbet.
Roast piglet with wild mushrooms and cabbage. The meat was mouth-watering. Mmm, fat. Of course the mushrooms were good, but the cabbage also tasted just amazing. Because, I think, it was cooked in the mmm, fat.
Duck breast with roasted carrot, squash, turnip, parsnip, and a squash ravioli. The most interesting thing here is that the duck, while good, was actually the least of this plate. These vegetables tasted amazing.
Three kinds of Ontario cheese—goat, sheep, and gouda—served with pear and walnut cranberry bread. Ontario, it turns out, also makes good cheese.
Tarte tatin with rum ice cream.
The new restaurant has a wine list, all Ontario. We enjoyed our first five courses with a lively Frog Pond Riesling, then switched to a glass each of Stratus Red. That’s an expensive wine, but it did taste fantastic. We have a bottle here, and now I’m dying to open it. With dessert, we had Earl Grey and mint tea, both well above average.
We came in quite hungry, and ended feeling satisfied but not stuffed, which is perfect. And we slept really well that night.
Onto Saturday now, which began with the breakfast part of the B&B. While we’d met the wife more the day before, today it was the husband who sat and talked with us while we ate our apple starter, delicious coffee, fresh baguette, and frittata. He was quite an interesting guy. He told us about how they’d ended up moving from Toronto to this location, the whole process of designing and building the house extension, the mechanics of geothermal.
They made Creemore sound like an interesting little town, so we decided to head there after checking out. And it is pretty cute. We spent some time in a bookstore, and I wanted many things, but decided I really needed to catch up on my reading first. At an antique store, we bought new stools for our breakfast bar—not antiques, those, they were new. They do look a bit snazzier. (Can’t say we’re not doing our bit for the Ontario economy.) And at the 100-mile shop, we bought a bunch of Ontario cheese, including some we’d had the night before. Fifth Town Cheese Company from Prince Edward County—try them out.
Then we headed home, so you might think this travel diary is done, but no… We decided to keep it going.
That night, we ate out at Art Bar. Once again, the food was quite good, holding up surprisingly well to our recent experience at Haisai. But once again, we seemed to be left fairly close to curtain time. I still don’t understand why they have such trouble getting us out in two hours. But anyway…
We had tickets to Cirque de la symphonie, which was the KW Symphony playing various pieces while, during most of them, circus performers did their thing. This was riveting! I couldn’t believe how fast the two hours (or so) went by. Particularly notable was this beautiful trapeze artist who did a really spectacular set on a rope in the second half. And then there was the gorgeous man who did this act with a big square (I find this stuff hard to explain) in the first half, then, shirtless, did this Icarus act in the second, jumping and flying around with a white sheet flapping behind him.
And the finale were these two guys, all in gold, one of whom can balance on the other and get into the most amazing poses. OK, my whole description of these performances sucks, but trust me, they were wonderful to see. (And thankfully, the Centre was very full for this show.)
Anyway. We both ended up very satisfied with this little November getaway. And Jean also had a great paddle (canoeing) on Sunday. It was a beautiful day, wasn’t it?
All the leaves are brown And the sky is gray I’ve been out walking for a while on a winter’s day I’d be safe and warm If I was in LA…
Or, better yet, back in San Fran…
Yes, it was a good trip. We were there for a week, Saturday to Sunday. We started with a visit to Yosemite on Sunday, headed to Napa and Sonoma on Monday and Tuesday, and drove into San Francisco on Wednesday, where we stayed for the rest of the trip.
People ask, “What was your favorite thing?”, which I can never answer. Too many options. But to quote Maria, these are a few of my favorite things.
The weather. Nothing but sun, all day, every day. Need I say more?
The wine. Particularly these aspects of them:
Interesting tours in Napa and Sonoma. Wineries with art galleries and patios where servers bring you tasting portions of their offerings. Organic wineries that give full tram tours and let you taste the grapes (very sweet). Organic wineries on beautiful grounds with hiking trails up to great views.
Cav wine bar in San Franciso, which may have been our favourite restaurant. The first time we went, it was because we tired of trying to stuff down dinner after having a big lunch. So we dined on wine and cheese. It was lovely. And later, we went back for a full dinner. Also lovely. Many wines by the glass, from all over, at pretty reasonable prices.
The taste, of course, which often surprised us with its subtlety and sophistication, particularly in the Bartholomew Park Cabernet Sauvignon and the Rodney Strong Estate Pinot Noir.
Not paying duty on the wine, despite bringing home double our allotment, which we declared.
Seeing the wild parrots of Russian Hill, who may or may not be the same flock as on Telegraph Hill. At any rate, we had read that almost no one got to see these birds, yet there they were, following us along on our walking tour of that neighborhood. (And with seeing the bear and the deer in Yosemite, and numerous birds there and in San Fran, plus all the sea lions in San Fran, it was a surprisingly wildlife-filled vacation.)
Great experiences for free (and not only because they were free), such as:
Just walking around the interesting, and very safe-feeling, neighborhoods of San Francisco, such as North Beach and the Castro, just getting a sense of the shops and the people and the atmosphere.
Free city walking tours, which San Francisco offers hundreds of each year. Our favorite was the City Scapes and Public spaces, which took us into the elaborate bank buildings and hidden park areas of the Financial District.
Experiences worth paying for, such as:
Alcatraz tour, where you take a boat to the island and are then free to explore it, including an introductory film and an excellent audio tour of the cells. Very well done.
SFMOMA, a modern art gallery that managed to balance the sublime and the ridiculous better than most.
Brunch at the beautiful Awanee Inn in Yosemite, apparently one of the best restaurants in the US. Certainly had some divine little desserts.
Listening to JD Fortune’s fantastic version of “California Dreamin” on the ride from Napa to San Francisco.
And then there were the more “interesting” experiences that will probably make the best stories…
Staying across the street from, and therefore finding it impossible to avoid, the Lovelution Festival, which seemed to mainly be about young people dancing to techno music in glittery underwear… If that…
Our insane, high-speed taxi ride to the hilliest part of San Francisco, that morning we were running late… We ended up arriving early…
Getting an impossible case of the giggles upon perusing the vegetarian, yoga-themed menu of a Napa restaurant I had insisted on, feeling not quite hungry enough for meat and potatoes. But you know, those beet-roast crisps and semolina gnochis were actually, suprisingly very delicious.
Jamestown, our home base to Yosemite, which really still looked like an old Western town, with saloons and such, and nary a Starbucks anywhere.
Rasputin Records, squarely aimed at the punk and hip-hop crowd, where old-timers like me who prefer classic rock are shunted off (really, driven off by the music) to the four floor, which was accessible only by a tie-dye painted elevators operated by one of the remarkably friendly staff.
This is how Jean explains the fact that we were in Orillia this weekend:
I got back from my canoeing trip and Cathy says, “You need to book November 6 off work. Because we’re going to an adultery concert.”
So I said, “Ah, is there something you’re trying to tell me, honey?”
But see, she meant Roger Daltrey—you know, from The Who?
So, that’s why I can’t do woodworking / go canoeing with you / stay any later at this party. Because we have to drive to Orillia this weekend, to get the pre-sale tickets at the box office, so we can get the good seats.
Which is a good little anecdote. Amusing. Not quite how I remember it, but some of the facts are there.
I did indeed find out, while Jean was away, that Roger Daltrey was touring (for the first time in 25 years), and that his only Ontario date was at the casino in Orillia. Of course I wanted to go—not like there are tons of opportunities to see him perform in relatively small venues—but Orillia struck me as a slightly annoying location, as it wasn’t so far away as to be impossible or terribly expensive to get there, but not so close as to be able to just buy tickets and worry about the details later.
The Who’s official website talked about this 2-day pre-sale (available only to Who fan club members—$50 US for that), including meet and greet packages. That all seemed cool, but there were no price details, and I wasn’t sure how many tickets I’d be needing, and… I fretted, but let those 2 days pass.
Which turned out to be a great decision, since Orillia was excluded from all that—no Who fan club pre-sale, no meet and greet packages on offer. (And by the way, it’s $350-$400 for that meet and greet stuff. Rather a lot for what would likely just be an awkward, 2-minute conversation with a stranger, eh? Like, what would I say to him? “Mr. Daltrey, I’m a big fan of your work. What a great voice. And what a great chest. Really, thank you so much for not wearing a shirt for most of the seventies! I really appreciate that!”
I’m sure that would have gone over well.)
Anyway. Pre-sale tickets for Orillia were set for August 16, so I had about a week after Jean got back to talk him into it. Because, see, Jean doesn’t particularly like going to rock concerts, as a rule, and while he has nothing against The Who, you wouldn’t call him a big fan, either.
I waited a day, then launched my pitch. I started with a joke about researching casinos because I thought I might take up gambling, but that fell a bit flat, so I just went into the facts, “and I know it’s a three-hour drive, and it’s Thursday night, which means you’re on call, and…”
“Well, find a friend to go with you and I’ll drive you. We’ll stay overnight, right?”
Say what now? “Yes, we’d have to. And I don’t know that any of my friends would be interested, but I don’t mind doing the concert part by myself.”
“Well, if you’d be alone, I’ll go with you.”
Say what now?
My second bout of fretting now deflated, I turned to the matter of getting tickets.
I called the casino and asked what the deal was with this pre-sale. Which was that, first of all, you needed a casino card. It was free to get one of those, so fine. But secondly, you had to take yourself and your casino card to the box office in Orillia, in person, and get the tickets there.
I concluded it just wasn’t reasonable to drive six hours in a day (there and back) just to get tickets, but then I fretted that they’d be all sold out in that two-day pre-sale.
Jean sighed. And then suggested that maybe we could make a weekend of it, spreading the driving over two days.
I started cooking him all his favourite foods.
But, you know, Orillia turns out to be quite a nice little town (and really only a 2.5 hours drive), apparently not drained of its life blood by its casino. It’s right on the water, and it was a beautiful weekend, so we quite enjoyed the beach and the marina. Downtown had an exhibit of classic cars, which was kind of interesting. Our reasonably priced Inn room had a little kitchen, living room, king-size bed, and two TVs! We ate in this neat restaurant set up in an old train, and went to see a musical revue about golf. (Which, OK, was a little weird, but it did fill up the evening.)
And, I am now the proud owner of two tickets in the seventh row, just slightly to the right of center stage.
On the way home, we stopped at Michael’s Statdlander’s new bakery in Singhampton. Best ice cream ever!
So now I can stop fretting. (But Jean can keep telling his anecdote.)
From 1974 interview with Roger Daltrey:
Q: Will you still be doing this in your 60s?
A: Sure. Why not? Singers only get better with age.
Q: Would you play Vegas?
A: I don’t know. Maybe.
Q: You won’t get fat like Elvis, though, will you?
The Globe and Mail wrote an article about Waterloo [at a now 404ed URL].
Subhead: “Smaller town, bigger edge. What does Waterloo have that we don’t? Mennonite pragmatism and an inferiority complex.”
I often find Globe articles on Waterloo kind of amusing as they make it sound as though the place is in some distant, desolate wilderness instead within commuting distance of Toronto, and make fun bloopers like saying that the Perimeter Institute is located in an “obscure suburb” instead of where it actually is, which is right in uptown Waterloo. (Or maybe they meant that all of Waterloo is an “obscure suburb”?)
But this particular article was fairly accurate and sort of complimentary, despite the general sense of amazement that anyone with drive and intelligence would choose anywhere other than Toronto to set up shop.
One highlighted stat is that Waterloo has 2.5 patents per 10,000 employees to Toronto’s 1.09. And, seriously, with all these other articles on how Canada is falling behind in innovation, that we’re still too reliant on exporting resources, maybe the whole country—not just Toronto—would benefit from looking at what Waterloo has achieved, and how that can be emulated.
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