Yonge Dundas Square

About ten years ago then Mayor Mel Lastman decided that the city should have a square. He said that the hodgepodge of stores made downtown Toronto "look like a flea market'. Mr. Lastman proposed that a town square be built at Yonge and Dundas.

I did not like Mr. Lastman or his politics. I did not like the fact that the mayor of my city was a former mayor from one of the now defunct boroughs, with its big mall sensibilities and its pro car ideology.

When I first saw the square, I likened it to a Greyhound bus parking lot. It still looks very ugly to me, but I cannot deny that it is a great public space, vibrant and alive. While I used to think that Mr. Lastman was wrong about everything, I must retract that position and give him his due. A correction is in order. He was wrong about everything except Yonge - Dundas Square.

On another note, the best picture I never took happened here. One day, I was waiting outside the Eaton Centre and it was very hot, 38c. Some boys were frolicking in the fountain to cool off, when I saw a young lady ask her mother if she could join her brothers in the fountain. Her mother agreed, and she was soon cooling off. The thing was that she was wearing a full burka and must have been unspeakably hot. The sight of her jumping in the fountain was one of those great Toronto moments I'll never forget.

Kensington Market

Spooned by Spadina's Chinatown, Kensington Market is one of Toronto's truest neighbourhoods, untainted by the manufactured and franchised sensibilities that have crept into many of the city's enclaves.

Upon entering The Market one instantly feels thrust into a bastion of Bohemian bona fides. While not quite on the scale of the Kejetia Market in Ghana, the market has a charm all its own and one can feel the vibe of a very tightknit community among its residents.

It is a potpourri of political activists, musicians, merchants and artists. The air is a pungent mix of chronic, coffee, camembaert, carp, chorizo and comraderie.

Chinatown

So today I really felt like a tourist in my own city. I tried to look at my own town with the same amazed eyes that I have when I am in some far off destination. Sure enough I began to see my home in the same way that a tourist might, and through this process I developed a new appreciation of this wonderful city that I call home.

Getting to Chinatown is very easy. Take the subway to the Spadina station, then walk upstairs and catch the streetcar going south. This should be very easy as every streetcar that leaves from the Spadina subway is going south. Get off the streetcar at College and head south into the heart of Chinatown.

As you walk south along Spadina, you will encounter some of the best bargains that the city has to offer. While I can't vouch for quality, you're not gonna beat the five T shirts for ten bucks and I am quite happy with the two pairs of shorts that I bought for $20.

Clothing is not only bargain here, as cheap eats abound, including Thai and Vietnamese offerings. Personally, I favour Kings Noodle House. The hot and sour soup cannot be beat. It is on the west side of Spadina, just north of Dundas. Be prepared though, this ain't fine dining and you may find yourself sharing your table involuntarily.

There is also another favourite spot for cheap food. Located at the southwest corner of Spadina and Dundas is a great spot for Dim Sum. I don't even know the name of the place, but it is located on the top floor of the mall . I have never spent more than ten bucks a head here and the elevated location cannot be beat for cheap eats and a great view of the city.

Next up, I decide that I need a haircut and you are not going to find a cheaper haircut in this town than you will find here. I almost opted for the "Dreamalnd Salon" but given that there was a lineup, I choose the "First Clean Cut Haircutting Salon" located on Dundas, just west of Spadina. The "salon" is an odd combination of lottery kiosk and the very latest in "Haute Coiffure". Given that my hair is in its own neverending global recession, I am not that fussy about who cuts it and at this point I was starting to look like the guy from Eraserhead every time it got windy.

So I walk into the "First Clean Cut Haircutting Salon, past the lottery kiosk and into the salon area. One lady is cutting someones hair and their is a guy having a siesta in a chair. I'm loving this place already. After a moment of me waiting a voice from the lottery kiosk barks a name and suddenly my siesta-ing stylist comes to life.

Leaping to his feet, he quickly twists a chair in my direction and beckons forth. As I sit in the chair he takes a moment to size me up and says "medium?" I'm not exactly sure what "medium" means but it sounds safe enough to me.

In a flying flash of razor and scissor, with the dexterity of a surgeon and the speed of a juggler the haircut begins. Clearly, this guy has cut a lot of hair in his day. He jokingly remarks about me waking him up and I jokingly apologise for waking him up, and we all share a laugh. Ten minutes and six bucks later I'm out the door, still not quite ready for GQ, but at least I don't look like the guy from Eraserhead anymore.

Feeling peckish, I decide that my next stop should be for dinner in Toronto's other Chinatown, just south of where I live. I hop on the eastbound College streetcar and it meanders its way through the city. We pass through the University of Toronto Campus, across Bay Street (the financial hub of the city), past Yonge Street (the longest street in the world), through Cabbagetown and Regent Park (home to a very large social housing project) and across the Don Valley to Broadview and Gerrard, home to a smaller but no less vibrant Chinatown.

As I step off the streetcar, I know my destination, the beloved Ka Ka Barbecue Restaurant. Located on the east side of Broadview, just south of Gerrard street, this is the best deal in town. For four bucks you get a huge portion of rice and a side of vegetables with BBQ duck or pork.

Obviously they are able to keep the prices ridiculously low by doing huge volume, as I witness a neverending stream of customers lining up for takeaway while I enjoy my dinner.

As I leave the restaurant, I smile to myself, awash in the joyous knowledge that my "staycation" is revealing to me the wonderous magic of the city that surrounds me. Next stop, Kensington Market, and how I discovered my new hobby there.

http://goyestoeverything.com

Nice square, Mr. Phillips

No, thats not a flying saucer landing between two giant urinals. It is Toronto City Hall. Situated adjacent to the magnificent Old City Hall and located in Nathan Philips Square, it is one of the city's finest public spaces.

During the summer months the square is host to a buffet of cultural events, including this year, The Toronto International Film Festival Box Office. In the winter the fountain area becomes a skating rink, a great spot for a romantic and cheap date.

Locating TIFF here should add significantly to the mayhem, bringing thousands of ticket buyers to the already bustling square. I am quite excited to be working at this great location. My perch inside the tent allows for some great people watching amidst the background of a tree lined urban gathering place. And the word on the street is that our Mayor is excited too, apparently he twittered about us the other day.

Danforth Days

The Danforth is one of the great neighbourhoods in Toronto. It has also been my home for most of the last twenty years. I know much of its well worn streets and indeed many of the joys I've shared and the scars I wear have been witnessed by this avenue.

The cafe lined street vibrates with energy, many of the faces familiar as I stroll down the sunlit sidewalk. Athenian accents can be easily heard, emanating from the seemingly endless array of sidewalk patios. The scent of souvlaki is in the air as the many grillmen attend to their many grills.

Other faces await, and like most of Toronto the air is fully multicultural. Mango shakes at the Thai place, sushi and Indian right downstairs and a massive organic grocery store beckons across the street. The Danforth is not all Greek to me.

There is darkness here too, as troubled souls and panhandlers are among the familiar faces. "Glue Guy", so messed up from always huffing, "Smiley", someone you don't want to run into if he goes off his meds, while "Mr. God Bless You" plys his trade in front of the liquor store.

As night draws, the revellers abound in the boundless options of a myriad of watering holes. The final offering a pork gyros from the guy by the fountain at 4 am and a short stroll back to my friendly confines.