After a hectic week last week in Chicago, I flew up to Toronto for the weekend to see my sis and her hubby-to-be. The temperature on arrival was freezing – even by the standards of the previous week it was a bit of a shock to the system.
After a fairly quiet night and sluggish morning we headed out to the Glen Eden ski resort situated about 40 minutes from York Mills, where I was staying. The ski resort is relatively compact and popular given its proximity to Toronto. It was packed with people from the very young to the very old. The queue to get our gear was long, but eventually I made it to the front where I got fitted out for boots, skis and poles. I was ready to go.
We started out on some very small nursery slopes but I quickly got bored of it. Even though I collapsed spectacularly quite a few times, I wanted something a bit more challenging, so we crossed the road towards the “grown-up” slopes. Nursery shmursery.
A ski-lift brought us to the top of the slope. I soon found that I could only ski in two ways: a) bat-out-of-hell mode and b) crumpled-up-in-a-pile mode. Bat-out-of-hell mode was easy. I would just point my skis ahead of me and go for it, picking up speed all the time. I would keep going faster and faster down the hill until quite suddenly I would switch over into the much less satisfactory crumpled-up-in-a-pile mode. This usually involved a quite ungainly somersault involving the loss of skis, poles and hats followed by the nightmare task of attempting to get upright again. Most of my ski-attempts involved both techniques, and I got quite good at them by the end of the day.
I would be an excellent skier if it were not for two small itsy-bitsy flaws. 1) I can’t brake and 2) I can’t steer. Otherwise all is well. I’m sure I would be a champion at rudderless kamikase skiing. Also, if there a prize for the most awkward looking skiier, I would be well in contention. My sister told me that it was amazing that I could stay upright for so long given my unorthodox style of leaning back on the skis with my knees and legs bent in a particularly unattractive fashion.
When it comes to skiing I am absolutely fearless. I am also absolutely clueless. A dangerous combination, I think.
We were absolutely wrecked by the end of the day. I had a very pleasant Indian meal in Burlington followed by a few drinks close to my sister’s apartment.
On Sunday, I headed into town with my sister to a shopping centre in Dundas for a spot of shopping. It’s a lot safer than skiing. I didn’t fall down once. I’ll wait to see the size of my credit card bill before I do that..
I had a relatively uneventful flight back home (well, I *did* lose my passport and my car keys, but enough said about that) and I’m back safe, sound and jet-lagged in Ireland. The weather is moist, relatively warm and there’s not even a hint of snow. I’m missing Toronto already.
Passive Impressions 
Amazingly, I recognise that shopping centre. If you go out the back door, you’re practically in Gastown. The Eaton Centre, is it?
You’re lucky they didn’t get you trying X-country skis. They’re easy enough and good fun on the flat, but impossible on a slope. You’re meant to use the same ‘snowplough’ technique to break as you do on downhill skis, but that’s rather tricky with no bindings. I spent a lot of time head down in snowdrifts.
(actually – I was taught parallel skiing practically from the start. To brake, you simply turn uphill)
Yes – it’s the Eaton Centre. There’s this amazing group of statues of birds in flight at the far end of the centre.
I was told by a friend that the snow-plough can be quite a dangerous technique given the awkward positioning of your knees, but when it was the only technique I knew, I had to make the most of it!
Just one correction – Gastown is in Vancouver.
In Toronto, from there you’d be practically in Chinatown (just around the corner).
Yes, I’ve always liked the flying geese in the Eaton Centre.
I meant Cabbagetown. And, yes, Chinatown. My confusion is because I’ve also visited Vancouver’s Gastown…which is, oddly enough, where you’d pass through to get to Chinatown if, like me, you were staying on Davie St.
(Vancouver’s Chinatown is amazing. Looking forward to stocking up in London’s Chinatown in a couple of weeks. Red Bean Moon Cakes a-go-go)
Ah yes, that revolving door that transports you from one memory to another – I know it well.
I do love Vancouver’s Chinatown – it’s truly amazing.
And I did live in Cabbagetown for awhile when I first moved to Toronto – then I moved a few blocks north of there (after a sojourn in the Greek neighbourhood known as The Danforth).
So, Woodpigeon, what do you think of Toronto?
I’m going back there for a week in a couple of months, so I’ll have a much better assessment of the place then. This time, I was there for a very short period of time and my only time near the centre was my Dundas trip.
I was there for a weekend in October 05 too, and I enjoyed my stay. That time I went up the CN Tower, the University of Toronto and the shore-front. I spent a great night, first in a Greek restaurant and then in a pub known as Smokeless Joes.
My overall impression is that it is one of the most multicultural of cities I have ever been in. It’s very tidy and I got a distinct impression that it was quite safe too. It’s quite a sprawl! I don’t know if I would call it a friendly city. It seems people keep to themselves very much, and my sis seems to bear this out – most of her friends are Irish or British expats.
Oh, and it’s coooooo–oold! 🙂
Remind me to give you a list of places to go/places to eat, etc (though my list may be a bit rusty by now).
How long has your sister lived there? What part of town does she live in?
I wouldn’t call it a friendly place either, but it’s quite interesting, mostly to do with it being so multicultural. Also, I lived at Yonge & Bloor and my Toronto was about a mile radius up from the water front, and so I never bothered with the sprawl. But I haven’t really been there much during the pas 15 years so it may have changed quite a bit.
Except for it being coooo-oold, apparently.