How fun is that to say? Let's say it again. Jantar Mantar. It's a three hundred year old sundial for loss of a better description. Incidentally it's also the first "sight" I've ever been to that looks more impressive depicted on a fridge magnet than it does in real life. Saturday, 8 October 2016
Jantar Mantar
How fun is that to say? Let's say it again. Jantar Mantar. It's a three hundred year old sundial for loss of a better description. Incidentally it's also the first "sight" I've ever been to that looks more impressive depicted on a fridge magnet than it does in real life. Friday, 30 September 2016
Return to Pig City
Erm, I appear to be Indian now.
That's pretty far from the truth. I've been living in India for a week but I'm not very Indian at all. I'm back in Gurgaon (or Gurugram as it now might be called, yep, confuses me too), a city of glass and pigs and appear to be living very much the expat life of speakeasies and over-priced beer.
I have been able to explore a bit more of Delhi. Managed to get up to Delhi proper. Old Delhi. With its kites and its car horns With its Red Fort and its walls and its tiny, winding, bustling streets. Now I've said bustling and you're probably thinking maybe Oxford Street. Oxford Street is not bustling, there are not enough handcarts, cows or people shouting to make Oxford Street bustle.
I'm guessing in time the traffic and filth and pollution might drag me down - it's so smoggy here that the sun doesn't set - but so far so good.
Friday, 16 September 2016
YYC
The city is surprisingly pretty. In my head it was going to be a sprawling mess of a place. Which it is, but they have kept the two rivers undeveloped which means you can always seem to find some green space. Or, given the time of year, some Autumnal gold. Deep fried gherkins. Dirty.
As an aside I tried to be respectable and have Alberta-raised Wagyu beef. That's about the best beef in the world, right? They only went and fried that as well, the rotters. Why would you do that? That's like shooting a decent whisky. Which they also do. The rotters.
-How much is this?
-$1.95.
-great, can I have that then?
-that'll be $2.23.
Wednesday, 14 September 2016
The Rockies
"I'm after something a bit snacky what can you recommend."
"Erm, people seem to like the meatballs."
"That doesn't sound Canadian."
"They're wrapped in bacon and covered in maple syrup."
"They probably need to be in my life."
Sunday, 11 September 2016
Royal Mountain
So here's a curveball. You know how I was expecting to feel about Toronto? Well that's how I feel about Montreal.
Initially I feared it would be terrible. The old town where the "sights" are is so touristy it almost hits resort levels. Once you're free from that, the city is immense, with its islands and its "mountain" and irs underground passageways and its neighbourhoods and its idiosyncrasies.
That's possibly doing the Old City a bit of a disservice. Its idiosyncratic enough. There's:
- a museum with an inflatable octopus outside.
- a view of Habitat 67. I first became aware of Habitat 67 about the same time as the Donkey Riding song in a kids' book of strabge buildings. I knew nothing about it (what it was called or where it was) and hadn't thought about it in over two decades, so it was a bit discombobulating seeing it loom large in front of me.
- a fire fountain. I feel like that should be in block capitals. A FIRE FOUNTAIN. An actual fountain of actual fire.
- a statue on the main square of a French person and an English person not speaking.
- an interactive art display that projects Montreal history onto the walls of buildings
- a man dressed as Jesus feeding seagulls from his hand. Not sure if he's there all the time. Let's assume he's an art installation.
But the neighbourhoods. I felt like I was making some of the places less cool just by being there. Particularly the Spectacles Quarter where I stumbled across Studio 16, which is the freshest art gallery I've possibly ever been in. It made peak era White Cube seem like the RA. My visit to the Quarter (and, well Montreal) clashed with a three day bloc party there. They had Jazzy Jeff DJ their street party. Ridiculous.
And we've not even talked about food yet. Food is a thing. I ate smoked meat sandwich at Schwartz, which was epic. Poutine covered three different shades of beige - not sure that that's three of your five a day. I ate tourtiere, which apparently is proper Quebecois home cooking at its finest. I had to work for it though, I could only find one place in town that served it (La Binerie if you are using this blog for anything useful - you shouldn't by the way, I've just told you that one of my highlights was watching a crazy man throw things at seagulls).
I ate a cheesecake Beavertail in Ottawa. I had assumed that that would be the dirtiest thing I ate whilst I was away. It wasn't. I've just eaten a croburger. That's a beefburger in a cronut. Utter filth.
Saturday, 10 September 2016
Donkey Riding, Donkey Riding
It must be twenty-five years since I last heard that song, yet every time I hear the name Quebec the first verse plays itself out in my head, then the chorus loops in like some kind of ghastly, never-ending earworm.
Anyway, I finally made it to Quebec City and it turns out that the song isn't instructional. There isn't a King with a golden crown riding on a donkey. Or if there is I didn't see him. Presumably because the Quebec Grand Prix was on so getting around the city was a bit of a nightmare, on donkeyback or otherwise.
...where there's a man with a spandex shirt, riding on a pushbike.
Not sure who won the bike race. The last lap I saw the guy on the motorbike was in the lead so I reckon he won. Seems unfair but hey...
Wednesday, 7 September 2016
Justin Trudeau's Pet Rabbit
My introduction to Ottawa was inauspicious to say the least. First off, what kind of city has a station that isn't walking distance from the centre? If that wasn't bad enough the bus link runs hourly. And, due to its remote, disconnectedness, the station ranks amongst the most soulless places I've ever been. And I've been to Frankfurt.
I was staying in a converted jail - I'm all over a gimmick - but the atmospheric novelty quickly wore off when I found I was in a three foot by nine foot cell. For the record, there's not much space in a three foot by nine foot cell.
I was directed to Byward Market for dinner. Now in my head that sounded like a decent place to get a tasty snack from a tasty snack stall. Turns out all the stalls were closed which left a load of oversized Irish pubs full of frat boys getting LabourDay loaded. Wholly unpleasant. Guess I'm getting old.
Anyway, the next day (when I'd eaten and I'd got my sense of humour back) I found that Ottawa was actually alright. A lot of the buildings are suitably impressive and the riverside walks are ace.
One tiny criticism, on my first day of walkinh there seemed to be charity muggers on every intersection like some insidious YOLO cult. It was almost threatening. Not sure what they were mugging for, I'm gonna assume it was for their experiments in eugenic cloning and ultimate world domination. I didn't give them money. Not certain why anyone would. Maybe Canadans are less cynical.
Speaking of which, I went to the light show on Parliament Hill. It starts with a history of Canadia and then halfway through morphs into something resembling an announcement from the Capitol. The crowd lapped it up. If they had done anything that blatantly patriotic back in Blighty they would be apologising for weeks.
