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I left for Ottawa in a hurry, scurrying down the hill in the deepening darkness and rain. After waiting three-quarters of an hour for the bus, I was in a pretty sorry state when I arrived at the airport in preparation for a 9-hour wait. The nice check-in man took pity on me, and worked some miracles to change all my flights and get me on a plane within an hour.
I arrived in Ottawa with an unexpected day on my hands, so I took a tour of the Canadian Parliament and the Peace Tower, which houses books containing the names of every Canadian soldier to give their lives since the First World War. I wandered around the Byward market for a little and had some food before I headed back to throw on posh clothes for the conference.
Those Canadians... they're flag-crazy. Every single bit of the city is festooned in a billion glowing flags: Canadian flags, provincial flags, flags for no apparent reason.
The conference was pretty fun, they took care not to flood us with information, and just to gently try to permeate us with a little bit of Canadian culture. I now know that Toronto is pronounced T'r'n', and has a hockey team called the Maple Leafs, which apparently haven't won the NHL (National Hockey League) in a looong time. In the afternoon, we had a tour round the National Gallery, and it was a most excellent tour. I even enjoyed the modern art under the guide's expert interpretations, and think I will probably be able to see a little more in art in the future. The National Gallery is a beautiful building, with one room having a glass tiled ceiling with a water pool on top, and another glass ceiling above that; the way that light reflects through it is brilliant.
On Saturday, I took the bus out to Gatineau Park and went on a long walk through the scrubland, forest and around a deep blue lake. The trees in Ottawa turn the full spectrum of flame colours, changing from lime green to sunny yellow, rich orange and fiery red. It was another perfectly clear, blue-skyed, gently breezy day, and as I walked through the park I would occasionally giggle madly to myself as I tried to catch the fluttering gusts of spiralling leaves. I saw six chipmunks in all. Three were brief flurries of retreating fur; one disappeared behind the tree next to me, but then crept back round the trunk to peer curiously up at me. One was affronted by my presence, and let me know with repeated squeak/tail fluff combinations. The last was absolutely furious at me for some reason, and stomped its little feet as well as the squealing and fluffing.
I went for a foray into the Byward Market in the evening, and bought some prayer flags from a shop of random ethnic stuff; I also paid a dollar to whack the gong in the doorway, which said "$1 to bang the gong: proceeds go to buying Beaver Tails for the deserving employees". I then had a Beaver Tail myself: a greasy pastry covered in cinnamon and sugar. Hot and tasty, but probably a once-only thing - I'd rate it as nicer-than-average post-pub food.
Sunday, I walked across to Québec across the Pont du Portage and along the river, and spent the day looking at the native artifact exhibits in the Museum of Civilization, with a brief foray into the remainder of Canada's history. I also watched an Indian dance performace which happened to be on. I circled back to Ontario across the Alexandra Bridge, saw a chipmunk/squirrel face-off beside the Rideau Canal, and wandered back through the Parliament grounds.
The wonderful thing about the Canadian Parliament is the fact that only a few metres away from this grand building, there is an informal animal sanctuary. Apparently, there were a lot of stray cats on the hill, so they built some sleeping boxes for them, and they are fed and looked after. It's not just cats, either; raccoons and squirrels also live in some sort of harmony there. Leaving Parliament Hill, I witnessed the annual Zombie Walk, when the living dead search for braaaiiins in the Parliament.
I flew back overnight, stopping in Calgary airport for six hours or so, when I put on all the clothes I could manage including my raincoat, and slept across some seats.
In summary, Ottawa is a very shiny city. Primary bright colours; chilliness; clean lines.
I arrived in Ottawa with an unexpected day on my hands, so I took a tour of the Canadian Parliament and the Peace Tower, which houses books containing the names of every Canadian soldier to give their lives since the First World War. I wandered around the Byward market for a little and had some food before I headed back to throw on posh clothes for the conference.
Those Canadians... they're flag-crazy. Every single bit of the city is festooned in a billion glowing flags: Canadian flags, provincial flags, flags for no apparent reason.
The conference was pretty fun, they took care not to flood us with information, and just to gently try to permeate us with a little bit of Canadian culture. I now know that Toronto is pronounced T'r'n', and has a hockey team called the Maple Leafs, which apparently haven't won the NHL (National Hockey League) in a looong time. In the afternoon, we had a tour round the National Gallery, and it was a most excellent tour. I even enjoyed the modern art under the guide's expert interpretations, and think I will probably be able to see a little more in art in the future. The National Gallery is a beautiful building, with one room having a glass tiled ceiling with a water pool on top, and another glass ceiling above that; the way that light reflects through it is brilliant.
On Saturday, I took the bus out to Gatineau Park and went on a long walk through the scrubland, forest and around a deep blue lake. The trees in Ottawa turn the full spectrum of flame colours, changing from lime green to sunny yellow, rich orange and fiery red. It was another perfectly clear, blue-skyed, gently breezy day, and as I walked through the park I would occasionally giggle madly to myself as I tried to catch the fluttering gusts of spiralling leaves. I saw six chipmunks in all. Three were brief flurries of retreating fur; one disappeared behind the tree next to me, but then crept back round the trunk to peer curiously up at me. One was affronted by my presence, and let me know with repeated squeak/tail fluff combinations. The last was absolutely furious at me for some reason, and stomped its little feet as well as the squealing and fluffing.
I went for a foray into the Byward Market in the evening, and bought some prayer flags from a shop of random ethnic stuff; I also paid a dollar to whack the gong in the doorway, which said "$1 to bang the gong: proceeds go to buying Beaver Tails for the deserving employees". I then had a Beaver Tail myself: a greasy pastry covered in cinnamon and sugar. Hot and tasty, but probably a once-only thing - I'd rate it as nicer-than-average post-pub food.
Sunday, I walked across to Québec across the Pont du Portage and along the river, and spent the day looking at the native artifact exhibits in the Museum of Civilization, with a brief foray into the remainder of Canada's history. I also watched an Indian dance performace which happened to be on. I circled back to Ontario across the Alexandra Bridge, saw a chipmunk/squirrel face-off beside the Rideau Canal, and wandered back through the Parliament grounds.
The wonderful thing about the Canadian Parliament is the fact that only a few metres away from this grand building, there is an informal animal sanctuary. Apparently, there were a lot of stray cats on the hill, so they built some sleeping boxes for them, and they are fed and looked after. It's not just cats, either; raccoons and squirrels also live in some sort of harmony there. Leaving Parliament Hill, I witnessed the annual Zombie Walk, when the living dead search for braaaiiins in the Parliament.
I flew back overnight, stopping in Calgary airport for six hours or so, when I put on all the clothes I could manage including my raincoat, and slept across some seats.
In summary, Ottawa is a very shiny city. Primary bright colours; chilliness; clean lines.
