I spent three days this week on a quick work trip to two western provinces: Manitoba (where I’ve visited just once) and Saskatchewan (where I’ve never been before). I met up with three colleagues at Pearson airport, and boarded the first of four flights to come in the next 48 hours. It was an Air Canada Express flight, meaning the planes didn’t have screens in the seats, so I got caught up on podcasts.
First on the agenda was Saskatoon. We landed (achievement unlocked: visit all ten provinces), buttoned our coats, and hurriedly walked to the rental car. We’d been dreading the western weather for days — and it was definitely still in the -20s — but luckily arrived just after the worst of it. (The day before it had felt like -48 with the windchill). We grabbed coffee from Museo, then later had fun with colleagues at Mar’s Mini-Golf and Earl’s.
The next day we had a 6:30 flight, so we were all up stupid-early. We were flying to Winnipeg, but because flights in the prairies are non-sensical, one of us had to fly to Calgary first, while the rest of us flew via Vancouver. If you understand Canadian geography at all, you’ll know how insane that is. Anyway, it gave me a chance to watch a movie (Dumb Money) and try out the first two episodes of a new-to-me TV show (For All Mankind). It also gave me a chance to marvel at the snowy BC landscape and see the sun glint off the Rockies, which is always a thrill. However, somewhere along the way I lost my Nexus card, which is going to be a pain in the butt.
We finally arrived in Winnipeg. Same sort of schedule as the Saskatoon: coffee (Thom Bargen, which was excellent), a fun group event (go-carting at Speedworld, which was very fun), and dinner at One Great City brewpub (which had me singing the Weakerthans song of the same name in my head the whole time).
I wish I’d had more (or maybe different?) time in both cities. I have friends in Winnipeg I’d have like to have seen — in hindsight I should have just stayed for the weekend. Then again, the middle of January probably isn’t the right time to spend extra days in cities like that. The crew I was with, who’ve done these trips many times, swear Saskatoon is beautiful in the summer, so maybe someday I’ll aim for that.
Or maybe it’s time to get to work on the territories?
The Muir really has started to feel like home when we’re in downtown Halifax. We stayed there for three nights this week, and really used the heck out of the whole Queen’s Marque complex, before relocating back to Bedford prior to our flight.
Our first day at The Muir, after I got a quiet breakfast downstairs in the morning, we went for a little walk around and then ate lunch at Salt + Ash. Cool spot; nice vibe. And great view, obviously.
cocktails
warm n’ fuzzy: jim beam bourbon, apple cinnamon syrup, lemon juice, cinnamon sugar rim, dehydrated apple slice (ed: this tasted like a goddamn apple pie)
crystal crescent #3: blue lobster vodka soda, benjamin bridge piquette, charred citrus, grenadine, soda, drunken cherry
north negroni: willing to learn gin, campari, cinzano rosso vermouth, rosemary syrup, lemon juice, egg white, rosemary sprig
starters
jalapeño cornbread w/ tequila lime butter
mains
fried chicken sandwich w/ hot + spicy, beach house dip, nasty sauce, fries
That night we met up with Tess + Aravind at Peacock, the wine bar we could practically see from our window. Some of us were not feeling great, so it probably wasn’t the best way to experience the place, but it was still pretty good.
Food
focaccia, rosemary, whipped white bean dip, preserved lemon
fresh burrata, red wine marinated figs, birch vinaigrette
2020 DeLoach, Heritage, Chardonnay – Russian River Valley
2021 Famille Fabre, Tour de Rieux, Cinsault – Languedoc (x2)
2021 Bodegas Alvarez de Toledo, Mencia – Bierzo
2014 Bachelder, La Petite Charmotte, Pinot Noir, Nuits-Saint-Georges
The next day we woke up, faffed about in the very comfy room, and eventually braved the cold & damp to have lunch at The Narrows. We’d heard how good it was and wanted to see for ourselves…and we weren’t disappointed. A true pub (not like so many of the pre-fab joints littering Halifax) in an old house, with cozy rooms and snug tables and relaxed vibes. We ate fish & chips and a fried fish sandwich and chopped salad and drank cask beer. There was even a nearby crib board so we squeezed in a game. What a cool spot.
After that we walked back across Gottingen; Lindsay had an appointment, so I Ubered back downtown and picked up a capp from the new-ish Java Blend downtown before walking back to the hotel and drying off / warming up.
Lindsay was also out for dinner, so I just wandered downstairs to Drift for dinner at the bar.
starter
Atlantic salmon tartare w/ charred lemon, dill, red onion, capers, brown bread crackers
Jean-Marc Brocard Chablis
main
roasted braised Nova Scotia lamb, split pea cassoulet, lamb bacon, mint, turnips
DeLoach Heritage Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon
dessert
Famille Sichel Sauternes
After some room service breakfast this morning, we got ourselves together and checked out. Shortly after that Patrick met us and we went back to Drift for lunch. It was too gross out to explore much beyond that. Our food was good, but the service wasn’t great. It culminated in someone dropping an avocado-covered knife on Lindsay’s coat, and definitely noticing it, but just…not doing anything about it. Anyway.
The plan for tonight, after one last quick visit with Tess + Aravind, is to order some donair pizza and then try our best to sleep that off before our flight tomorrow.
And it was thus, that we ate our way through the Maritimes.
After a brief visit back in Toronto, we returned to Moncton for a few days (Highlights: sausage & ricotta pizza at Tide & Boar brewing, discovering a not-really-a-hangover cure at Carrabba’s. Lowlight: the 1:55am fire alarm in the hotel on our first night.) before driving to the farm for a couple days.
My mom was violently ill for most of our visit, but other than that it was nice to hang out with family, eat too much, play crib & Uno, and relax — even if it was for less than 48 hours.
We’ve now made the drive to Bedford, where we’ll stay for a couple of days before attempting to get a couple days to ourselves.
Once again I was back in Moncton this past week. Of note:
I sat next to someone I used to work with on the flight there, and another ex-colleague on the flight back. Last time I saw a former member of a past board of directors. I didn’t expect Moncton flights to be this kind of reunion hub.
Once I arrived I set out for my usual dinner plan: buy two bottles of wine at the Experience store, and get a baseball steak at The Keg. On the walk there I was a murmuration of Starlings just outside the hotel — I didn’t get video, but someone else did.
New places I tried this time: Cinta Ria (very tasty Malaysian), Taj Mahal (very good, even if I forgot to order rice), and the Tide & Boar brewpub, where I drank some very good beer and ate an extremely delicious (if far too big) Detroit-style donair pizza.
No family visits this time — it was a bit last-minute, and I was pretty heads-down whilst there — but there’ll be plenty more chances.
We took a noon flight to Newark on Tuesday. After a blown first attempt at taking an Uber, the second driver understood the assignment and we had a pretty easy ride to the Lower East Side. We stayed at the Ludlow Hotel. We got a cool railroad-type room, and used the small anteroom as storage so as to keep our king bed & lounge area nice and tidy. Very nice hotel, cool but chill vibes. We had a drink or three in the lobby lounge while we waited for our room to be readied.
We cleaned ourselves up post-flight, and went for a stroll through SoHo. It was the tail end of New York Fashion Week, and Lindsay figured we’d see some fashionable people out and about, so we picked a random restaurant: Pepolino. We did indeed see many beautiful people on our travels; unfortunately the restaurant wasn’t so glamorous, but whatever. The food was pretty decent, and we had a nice sidewalk venue. Here’s what we had:
fresh burrata with prosciutto di parma, roasted peppers, tomato and basil
endive salad with pears, walnuts & pecorino cheese in a lemon dressing
steamed mussels out of the shell in butter, garlic & parsley
bottle of falanghina
spinach & ricotta gnocchi (gnudi) in a butter sage sauce
farrotto del giorno (w/ sausage)
glasses of chianti & barbera d’asti
affogato
We weren’t up for the long walk home, so we called an Uber, and engaged in the time-honored tradition of getting honked at by New York traffic as you try to hurl yourself into the back of a car that’s stopping traffic. We got home and crashed; the city may never sleep, but we really needed to. Lindsay was up early Wednesday morning for her research appointment; I grabbed us coffees from Ludlow Coffee Supply next door while she hailed a cab. I plunked myself back in the lobby lounge to get caught up on a few things.
When she arrived back at the hotel for a late lunch, albeit stressed about how much she had to do, things took a sideways turn: I started getting waves of nausea and lightheadedness as we ate. It was coming and going with some frequency — enough to definitely weird me out. We went back to the room and I laid down on the bed, feeling mostly better…until I stood up rather quickly, and suddenly felt lightheaded again. This, coupled with the fact that I was still coughing after my illness that started at the end of August, was worrying. We decided I should do something that felt heretofore unimaginable: go to a doctor in the US. Or, rather, a nearby urgent care clinic.
The clinic was actually very nice and very fast. 15 minutes and 100USD later I definitely felt reassured that nothing was urgently wrong with me, but also that I should take it easy. The big concern was that we had tickets for a Pavement concert that night in Brooklyn. Being upright in a loud, sweaty environment a 30 minute drive from our bed seemed risky. Still, it was a big deal for Lindsay to see them live, so I was determined to go. I felt better, or at least I did until we tried eating dinner across the street at Taverna di Bacco. Then the nausea and lightheadedness and flop sweats and worry that I might pass out came back as we ate. It felt maybe like it happened when I drank wine, but that would certainly be a new (and unwelcome) development. We left after putting away a few starters, which was a shame, because the food was VERY tasty:
They kindly corked our bottle of Dolcetto so we could bring it back to our room. I felt better once I’d had a chance to lie back down, but not okay enough to go to the concert, which was devastating. I did some ill-advised googling, enough to see that these can be symptoms of an untreated sinus infection, so a trip to the CVS around the corner is in order.
I felt better when we woke up Thursday, and while Lindsay made her return visit to the archives I went downstairs to the lounge, testing my ability to not pass out. Ultimately I felt fine, and further tested my okay-ness by running a couple of nearby errands, and then eating a killer fried chicken sandwich from Sweet Chick. The afternoon passed without much concern, and eventually Lindsay got back from her appointment.
Once she did, we went straight up to the 20th floor rooftop terrace. It was totally empty, and we reveled in the perfect weather and striking panoramas of lower Manhattan. We drank a bottle of German Pinot, talked about everything and nothing, and watched the sun set over the Hudson.
We did need dinner, though: we hadn’t yet tried Dirty French, the hotel restaurant, so we decided to take our chances with a walk-in. Luckily we got a nice big booth, and set up for the night. And what a meal we had:
some kind of delicious soft flatbread
six oysters
glasses of Billecart-Salmon Champagne
Lamb carpaccio w/ eggplant, sheep’s yogurt, pita
Montreal short rib w/ horseradish, cole slaw, toast points, sauces
bottle of 2001 Catherine & Pierre Breton Les Perrieres Bourgueil Cabernet Franc
Everything was, frankly, fucked. The flatbread and whatever dip it came with were unreal. The lamb carpaccio was so delicious and spicy and melted in our mouths. The Montreal short rib was essentially a beautifully deconstructed Schwartz’s smoked meat sandwich. The wine was unreal, even after 20+ years in bottle (and such a steal compared to the other bottles on the list). The servers lost track of us at the end of the night, so we lingered longer than we wanted, but made it out alive. I had, thankfully, suffered no recurrence of the previous day’s symptoms.
We woke up, a little worse for wear, and set about preparing to leave the Ludlow. After a little walk around, we took advantage of their lounge one last time and ordered brunch as we began the transition to the next phase of our New York stay.
NEW YORK, PART THE SECOND
Days 4 through 6 of our time in Manhattan would be spent at the Greenwich Hotel, which confusingly enough is in Tribeca. Lindsay found it and loved the pictures; I’d never stayed in (or even been to) Tribeca before, so I was game. It was only after we’d checked in that we realized it’s partially owned by Robert De Niro. Our room — the whole hotel, really — was gorgeous. Like someone transplanted an Italian villa into downtown Manhattan.
Meanwhile, Lindsay seemed to have caught my cold, so while she rested I took a walk, down to the 9/11 memorial and back, stopping for a coffee at Kaffe Landskap on the way.
We napped in the cozy bed and gathered energy for our dinner downstairs at Locanda Verde. The restaurant was very busy, very loud, very crowded (I was bumped into by servers so many times I lost count) and also VERY good. Lindsay had limited energy, so we ordered right away, and they matched our pace, bringing stuff out super-quickly. We decided to chance it with a bottle of white to see us through all the courses; the sommelier concurred with my instinct to pick Fiano.
crostini w/ Sardinian sheep’s milk ricotta, sea salt & herbs
All of it was tremendous, frankly. And listen: I’ve had that orecchiette dish, or something just like it, dozens of times…but this might have been the best. Truly outstanding. We stepped outside for some fresh air, then retreated to our room and passed straight out.
On Saturday Lindsay woke up worried that she had COVID; I went out and bought rapid tests to set her mind at ease. Result: negative. That settled, we went downstairs for brunch in the courtyard. I had lemon ricotta pancakes w/ blueberries & meyer lemon curd; Lindsay had soft-scrambled farm egg crostino w/ leeks, mushrooms & speck. We shared a fruit plate and a fig danish and a few glasses of wine and cocktails.
After lunch we took a quick walk around the neighbourhood, where I took pictures of the Ghostbusters headquarters to send to my geeky brothers, and went back home to rest. Along the way we decided there was no way we’d be able to make it to Broadway tonight to see Hadestown so we gave our tickets to one of the hotel staff. I spent a little more time downstairs in the courtyard that afternoon, and just fetched us a nice bottle of wine and some food from a nearby takeout place for dinner while we watched comfort TV.
Sunday morning didn’t see much progress — we ordered room service breakfast and kept watching movies. I did hang out and read by the fire in the drawing room for a while though, with a cute dog napping nearby.
We finally summoned the energy to run out and do another errand. As we finished it up, we stood outside a generic New York pizza joint, and…I dunno, it was like the healing smells restored us. We got a couple of slices of Sicilian-style pepperoni and ate them on the sidewalk, and we felt like new again. OK, well, not quite, but we felt better. Better enough that we decided to sit down at Terroir for food (Maine oysters, two types of cheese, and calamari) and many glasses of wine. I can’t remember everything Lindsay ordered, but here’s what I had:
Palo Cortado, 20 Years, Solera Especial Dos Cortados, Williams & Humbert, NV, Jerez de la Frontera
Tokaji Aszu, 5 Puttonyos, Hétszölö, 2010
Our server (Paula?) was really lovely too. I feel like we’d have gone there every night we spent in Tribeca if Lindsay hadn’t been sick, but I’m so glad we got to go at least the once.
We ended the evening by walking over to the Hudson, enjoying the perfect weather.
Monday morning we were back to the old pre-transition routine: shower, coffee, re-pack. We luxuriated in our room since the weather had turned quite wet, checking out only when finally forced to. The staff suggested Bubby’s for lunch and it didn’t disappoint: sick ol’ Lindsay had tomato soup and grilled cheese; I had fried chicken and pancakes. We each had cocktails and biscuits and Cremant d’Alsace. We left very, very full. After one last cappuccino from Kaffe Landskap, we called an Uber to take us on the final leg of our trip, dodging the paparazzi there to photograph (I think) Peter Gabriel.
PHILADELPHIA, PART THE NEVERHAPPENED
BACK TO TORONTO
Given how sick Lindsay still was, we decided not to continue on to Philly. It broke our hearts, especially considering we had tickets to the Janelle Monae show at The Met that night. But Philly’s not going anywhere, and it doesn’t make sense to spend all that money on hotels and eating out when we can’t really go out or do much. So we spent the night at the Newark airport Marriott and ate a spectacularly mediocre dinner at the lobby bar.
On Tuesday, a week after we started this sickly journey, we woke up very tired (the guy in the room next to us decided to procure his sex worker at 4:30am) and got ready for our flight home. The shuttle to the terminal nearly made us both barf. The security line at the airport was incredibly short & smooth. Our flight left early and arrived early. Our uber ride home was fine. So there we were, a full 3.5 days earlier and 1 city fewer than planned, but thankfully cozy at home with a few unexpected quiet days to recover, and a weeks’ worth of excellent New York memories under our belt.
Two plays, three excellent meals (plus a bad one), and one off-piste hotel experience later, we’re back from a weekend in Stratford. It’s a trip we planned to do last year for Lindsay’s birthday, but our second bout with COVID derailed that.
Friday
After a work-related award ceremony, we suffered through a long, annoying drive to Stratford. Note to self: these is no good time on a Friday to leave this city. We got there just in time to eat dinner at Lovage, which we loved when we visited earlier this summer. Being there for dinner hit another level though:
bread & butter
cucumber & honeydew salad
fried green tomatoes
oxtail cavatelli
sea bass
bottle of Tawse Tintern Toad Pinot Noir
chocolate mousse
M. Chapoutier Banyuls
espresso
Everything was fucking great, but that oxtail cavatelli…my god. We were so enamored that we canceled our lunch plan for the next day and booked Lavage instead.
Finally, to end the day, we drove to our hotel: The Bruce. It’s a classic Ontario hotel and a Stratford institution. It’s also…very much not our style. I should have known when I booked it. Anyway, the room was big, and our stay was fine, but…yeah. A little old school for us.
Saturday
After a leisurely morning in the room, we drove back over to Lovage for lunch. This time we had a lobster salad, some merguez sausage sandwiches w/ frites, nice glasses of wine, and cappuccinos. We considered walking around the downtown and exploring a bit, but that lunch had other ideas, so we drove back to the room and took a big-ass nap.
Early in the evening we began our theatre-going experience with dinner at The Bruce’s restaurant. What a gong show. I don’t know if they were understaffed, or if they profiled us when we came in, or if it was just a comedy of errors. To wit:
Our reservation was at 6. Ordering took forever, even as tables seated after us had their drinks and starters delivered. Our cocktails, the first things to arrive at our table, came at 6:30.
The kid pouring our water was maximum twelve years old. I shit you not.
The appetizers — Digby scallops w/ caviar and smoked butter; duck raviolo w/ fennel salad and duck vinaigrette — were fine, but the bottle of wine we’d ordered hadn’t arrived yet, so we had them with water.
When the wine — we splashed out on a 2016 Ridge Estate Cab Sauv — arrived, the server broke the cork off in the bottle. He had to call in backup to open it fully. Not a big deal, but it didn’t fill us with confidence.
Lindsay’s grilled ribeye was fine, but my pork loin was sooooooo dry.
While it took 30 minutes to get our first drink, the entire rest of the meal happened in 35 minutes. They brought our mains as Lindsay was still finishing her starter, and they just stood there waiting until she moved it aside.
Oh, and someone sitting next to us was wearing so much bad perfume I got a headache. Let’s just say the crowd skewed somewhat older.
We walked up the street to our first play of the weekend, Les Belles Soeurs, which was very very good. Still plenty topical some 60 years later.
Sunday
Spooked by our dinner experience, we hastily re-planned our meals. Rather than eat brunch at The Bruce’s restaurant, we ordered early room service breakfast. Mercifully, it was quite good. (And very fast!) After getting ready and checking out, we drove into town, parked, and walked along Lake Victoria for a bit.
We’d pivoted our lunch option to Bluebird, and immediately felt redeemed by the decor and overall vibe. The food (big “ploughman’s lunch” salad; fried chicken cutlet w/ fries; fried perch & chips) was excellent, as was our bottle of Anjou Blanc. Our server was cool. An excellent meal, all in all.
Our second and final play of the weekend was a re-telling of Richard II, set in the late-70s New York gay disco scene. It was as fabulous as it sounds.
After that, our drive back to Toronto was surprisingly easy. We’re not here long; we’re off again soon, as the September of Dan continues.
To celebrate my forty-eighth, we booked a four-day weekend in Prince Edward County. This time Lindsay did pretty much all the planning.
Friday
After a big-ass breakfast at OK OK Diner we jumped in our car and…crawled slowly up the DVP and across the 401. We were so delayed we didn’t even have time to stop at our AirBnB, instead driving straight through Bloomfield to Flame + Smith for an early dinner. It was a big but busy spot, even at 5pm. We had:
artisan sourdough w/ whipped whey butter
a dozen oysters
a non-alc Bellwoods Jelly King for me, a cocktail for Lindsay
We took some desserts to go and drove back to find our AirBnB. It was a cute spot, like a combination of modern + farmhouse. It had a big, private, farmyard view, and a pretty decent sunset.
We woke up early but lazed about a bit before getting a start on our day, which ended up being a mistake. By the time we left it was pouring; by the time we’d driven to the outskirts of Picton, it was a monsoon. We’d hoped to get breakfast at Bailey’s, but we couldn’t line up outside in that weather. We decided to do a bit of our shopping at the Agrarian Market and pick up breakfast stuff whilst there. We got utterly drenched just getting in and out of the car, even with big umbrellas, but we managed to get home and get dry…just as the rain let up. Of course.
We ate a breakfast of bacon, eggs, sourdough toast, and raspberries before resolving to just chill. We watched some TV. We drank coffee and watched the rain. We napped, hard. A right lovely afternoon.
Eventually re rallied, showered, and walked down the road to Darling’s for dinner. We opted to sit outside, and were the only ones on a huge patio. I don’t know whether it was the relative cool (the rain had broken the heat, and it was about 20 degrees), the threat of bugs (none materialized until the very end of the night) or what, but we didn’t mind having the outside to ourselves. Inside seemed loud and frenetic. Outside it was breeze and soul music. The staff were really sweet too, and the food was excellent:
I’d never heard of New Haven style pizza before, but I’m into it.
We walked home, questioning our decision every time a car drove by too close to us, but we made it.
Sunday
After finishing off the bacon & eggs, we set to picking up the groceries for the meal Lindsay planned to cook for dinner. That meant a few stops around Bloomfield and Wellington, but we got it all, dropped it back at the AirBnB, and set out for some wineries.
I’d ordered from Morandin before, but never been there. It was a quiet, pastoral little locale, with picnic tables outside a Quonset hut. We tasted everything, leaving with six bottles.
After leaving there we drove around the corner to By Chadsey’s Cairns, a winery I hadn’t visited since my very first trip to PEC 11 years ago. It was actually the very first country winery I ever visited, and I’d been tipped off by county friend Duarte that they were likely closing up shop soon. Sure enough, when we arrived we saw they were down to only Gewurztraminer (fair enough; that’s what I was looking for anyway) so we bought a half dozen to help speed along the retirement plans. It was lovely chatting with Vida in that barn for a good long while. We left that beautiful farm, bundled our purchases into the car, and drove into Wellington.
Lindsay had booked us lunch at the Drake Devonshire, which I’d somehow never visited. We lucked into a frankly incredible table, on a covered patio looking right at the lake. It was a popular spot, rife with poses and selfies, but we managed to enjoy a perfect day and a pretty great meal nonetheless.
We needed dessert and a final dinner ingredient so we drove to Slicker’s for a pint (dinner) and a couple scoops (immediately). We arrived back at our place to enjoy the remaining afternoon sun. Eventually Lindsay cooked us a great meal, though I ruined the lamb.
tomato + grilled corn + arugula bruschetta
2021 Morandin County Chardonnay
grilled lamb shoulder chops + mint salsa + new potatoes
2020 Closson Chase South Clos Pinot Noir
peach cobbler + Slicker’s apple pie ice cream paired
I’d brought a 2019 Inniskillin Riesling Icewine to go with this, but reconsidered and we decided to just finish the Morandin chard
By this point we were tired, and the ducking in and out to the grill had let in an armada of bugs, so after a mosquito massacre we trudged upstairs to bed.
Monday
We’d originally planned to do a few more wineries on our way out of the county, but by the time we packed up and cleaned the place we just wanted to head home. I have to say, I quite like having nearly a whole afternoon back at home to recover after a trip, even a short one.
I ended up flying into Moncton and visiting my family for a couple days this weekend. As I write this, I’m sitting in the Moncton airport, ready to fly home. A few observations from the weekend:
Driving on roads and highways this (relatively) empty is a genuine treat compared to the bumper-to-bumper bullshit on various Toronto highways.
I arrived just in time for heat warnings, and to remember that my parents’ farmhouse has no air conditioning. When I arrived we had to open every window to maximize breeze, and turn on several fans. That said, it does cool down a lot at night…the next morning the furnace actually kicked on around 5am because the house had become so chilly.
In addition to the armada of hummingbirds always found outside my mom’s kitchen window, a new birdfeeder camera has yielded some fun finds: jays, finches, blackbirds, and so on. Also: mice, squirrels, and the odd raccoon. We also saw a bald eagle circling overhead yesterday
Crokinole is as fun as I remember. Especially when I beat my dad.
It’s been a long time since I had a Tatamagouche BrewingJitney sour, and damn was it good. Brothers 1 and 2, S-I-L 2, and I had a quite drink outside (but safe from flies) last night, when the weather was perfect and the stars were out.
We spent this past weekend in Ottawa for Lindsay’s brother Patrick’s graduation. We just got home.
Thursday night we had our friends Shannon & Dallas over to our backyard and enjoyed a lovely time which included a bit too much wine, given we had to drive to Ottawa the next day. Things got squiffy, but we made it.
On Friday we drove (slowly) out of the city and up the 401. We met at Patrick’s place where his family was waiting and had drinks and a big, late feast from Sula Wok. Things got scary, but we made it.
On Saturday we had brunch around the corner from our AirBnB at Working Title, then walked through Strathcona Park and down the Rideau River and back to Patrick’s place and hung out in his backyard. We went back to the AirBnB for a quick rest (and I did a short walk over to where my aunt used to live) before going out to dinner at Aroma Meze, which was quite delicious. We came back to ours for drinks; things got spicy, but we made it.
On Sunday half the fam went to Patrick’s graduation while Lindsay and I had a quiet morning drinking coffee from the Happy Goat around the corner. We ubered over to The Glebe to meet everyone for lunch at Irene’s. Afterward, we washed down lunch with a magic from Little Victories and then hit an outdoor art show called The New Art Festival. Not long into walking around I realized where we were — at the very end of Patterson’s Creek, a park that had been very special to me when I lived in Ottawa with brother #1.
Lindsay and I bought pieces from Sayward Johnson and Lauren Blakey before four of us headed back to our place to decompress a bit. We scooted over to Patrick’s for dinner where we drank our remaining wine and ordered from Pizza Nerds and listened to his new music, before totally running out of steam at the end of a long weekend. Things got somnolent, but we made it.
On Monday there was nothing left to do but get up, pack, leave the AirBnB, drop Lindsay’s parents at the airport, and make the long drive home through some truly horrific rain. Things got slow. Things got soaked.
My dad turned 80 last Friday. We were all set to head home for a week of celebration and relaxation, but the travel gods had other plans.
Thursday May 18
I drove to the office and back in the morning for a board meeting, so I was a teensy bit on the back foot from the get-go. Still, we were all set and packed and ready to get to the island airport with plenty of time. I checked the commute times, saw it was ~8 minutes longer than usual (no worries; we’d left ourselves plenty of buffer) and told Lindsay we should get a move on. We did, calling shortly after. Even by the time we got our bags onto the sidewalk, we realized something was up – our expected arrival time had gotten much later. Still, we were set to arrive 40 minutes ahead of our flight which, at the island airport, is enough time.
Things really went south once we started driving across Front. Our driver’s Waze instructions told him to take Esplanade – which you can’t do. By the time we diverted back up to Front, it was gridlocked. It seemed accidents or construction had blocked every westbound route in the downtown. What should have been a 15 minute commute ended up taking over an hour. By the time we arrived at the airport and waited through the two slow customers in front of us, our flight had boarded. For the first time ever, I missed a flight from the island.
We asked about other flights that night. There were none. We asked about seats the next day. Again: none to be had. Between the long weekend and the looming Westjet strike, all the flights were booked. We tried the Air Canada desk, but their island counter doesn’t book anything other than Ottawa and Montreal. We were despondent. In our haze, I neglected to ask about flights going into Moncton, which is also close to the farm. Outside, I checked the Porter site on my phone, and swear to god it said there was only one flight earlier in the day. We took a cab home to regroup.
Upon arriving home, while checking other flight options, Lindsay noticed there was another Porter flight into Moncton that night (via Ottawa) and if we left right that second we might make it. We rushed out the door, but once again were foiled by traffic, and arrived just as they were closing that flight. At least we hadn’t pre-bought those tickets. Dejected, we took Uber #4 home to lick our wounds, and re-book. The only tickets we were able to get were business class seats (yay!) on Air Canada Rouge (boo!) out of Pearson the next evening. We ordered some food, drank some wine, and called my mom with the bad news that we’d miss my dad’s birthday dinner.
Friday May 19
We went about our morning, making sure everything was prepped, and picking up an extra gift + card for my dad. Our flight was delayed about 50 minutes, which – between Pearson congestion and a just-avoided Westjet strike – wasn’t too bad.
Flying out of YYZ meant we left earlier, so I picked up my phone to call an Uber that would get us there 2 hours (!) ahead of time. As I did, I saw a message from my EA that one of the other executives at my company, with whom I’d interacted Wednesday night, had tested positive for COVID. Fuuuuuuuuuuccckkkkk. It was at this point that I had my second meltdown in <24 hours. I grabbed a test kit, jammed a swab up my nose, and waited. Negative. OK. That was a good, if inconclusive sign. But we’d also just gotten our boosters, so our immune systems were probably in tiptop shape. We decided to proceed, and called the Uber after all.
We got to Pearson and checked in 90 minutes before our flight, so still plenty of time. Our Nexus cards got us around a HUGE security line, such that we had time for a drink in the Air Canada Cafe before heading to our gate. Our flight was delayed by another 30 minutes or so, but we got on, and our seats were good, and our flight was fine. Except for one thing: see they have free wifi on the flight, so I was able to receive an email telling us our bags hadn’t made it on the flight? What the? We arrived 90 minutes prior, AND it was delayed!! Anyway, they’d be on the next flight, which arrived at midnight, but we weren’t sticking around for that. We checked in at the luggage services desk, confirmed our bags would be brought to us the next morning, and headed to the rental car counter. At least we’d made it – no more hiccups, right?
Wrong. The rental car smelled disgusting. It was like being inside a hockey bag. I was so tired I couldn’t even complain to the rental counter. We also had to drive it home through a windstorm, but by 9pm we’d arrived safely at the farm. At last.
Sat May 20
Finally, vacation: a lovely, warm, sunny day. Walks around the farm. Drop-in community celebrations for my dad where I saw a bunch of old familiar faces of family and friends. Lots of food. Naps. Games of crib and Uno. A quick drink back over at brother #2’s house. It was just what we needed.
Sun May 21
Brother #1, ever the ambitious one, was up to run a half-marathon in a windstorm. Good on him. We sat inside while the rain started, doing puzzles and playing cards, and eating leftovers. Brother #1 & fam left mid-afternoon; the rest of us continued relaxing and watching the Jays game while the sun emerged. We drove into Springhill to pick up Chinese food from childhood standby Jade Palace, one of my dad’s favourite indulgences. After downing that and playing a few games of crib (all wins for Linds and I!) we walked across the yard for one more drink at brother #2’s.
Mon May 22
We were really getting into the swing of things now: on a cool crisp morning, had coffee next door then read for a while before driving to Parrsboro for lunch at the Harbour View restaurant. Lindsay and I had a lobster roll; most others had flounder, now that it was in-season. After lunch we drove out to Two Islands to admire the view, then back through town and up Kirk Hill for more views, before driving home. There we found more card, more Chinese leftovers, and another walk around the home hill before settling in for one last drink at brother #2’s house.
Tue May 23
Our final day on the farm. We had a leisurely morning, though I did end up going through a bunch of farm paperwork.
We decided to take the shore road – almost getting smoked along the way by a dump truck who’d crossed the yellow line – to enjoy the weather and get some fried clams at Diane’s. Well, Lindsay had friend clams; I don’t like ‘em. But we sat outside in the warm sun with the cool breeze, and enjoyed every minute. On we travelled to the Masstown Market for supplies (pies, cheese, doughnuts), stopping briefly in Bedford on our way to Mahone Bay, where we’d decided to stay a couple of nights. We wanted to see and smell the ocean again, and settled in at a very beautiful AirBnB overlooking the harbour.
We turned on our heels, picked up some wine for later, and walked into Betty’s at The Kitch for dinner. We had such a delicious feast (wood-fired baked brie + haskap heat + rosemary; a “Davis” pizza; a bottle of Benjamin Bridge sparkling rosé; a warm cookie for dessert) that we resolved to come back the following evening. And with that, we went home for the night.
Wed May 24
We’d been hoping for a nice warm day to enjoy the deck and the cool ocean breezes. Alas; it was cold, windy, and foggy. Nonetheless, we persevered. We read our books most of the day, stopping to acquire some barbecue from Fireworks, and eventually heading into town to meet up with Lindsay’s brother #1, who lives about 20 minutes away. We had beers at Saltbox Brewing before walking down the street to Betty’s. There we sucked back dips (roasted red pepper, mushroom), lobster mac + cheese, a Broderick pizza, and a 2018 Lightfoot & Wolfville Chardonnay. They forgot to charge us for the bottle, but we made it right. Such a cool vibe in that place. He followed us back to the AirBnB since we’d forgotten to bring him some loot (in the form of cookies); we then bid him a good evening, and crashed. Ambitions for a soak in the hot tub were done in by too much pizza and sweets.
Thu May 25
The close of what ended up being a super-relaxing and celebratory week of vacation. We figured the morning would be one of getting ourselves together and driving to the airport, but the travel gods weren’t quite through with us yet. Lindsay’s mom called with some family health news that convinced us to change our flights. So as I write this, we sit here in Bedford for the next couple of days, hoping everything goes well.
Skirl | Dan Dickinson 