We took the train to Toronto, and then a cab to the place we are staying. It’s strange to be back in the big city, and this really does feel like a proper big city, like London or something and more even than San Francisco or Melbourne (possibly a matter of perception I grant). We are staying at the house of a colleague of the Gentleman Friend, a lovely gentle fellow with a partner who is an actor specialising in dad roles. It’s strange to be back in a place where bathrooms are shared and floors are super creaky. A bad combination. Toronto’s residential streets are pretty enough, but not as characterful as in Montreal, which remains my favourite North American city (plus I saw a black squirrel, a white squirrel and a grey squirrel there). After a bit of work in a cafe we strolled into town about an hour’s walk away, over a bridge bestriding an autumnal ravine and with rumbles from the train passing through the lower level of the bridge, and on to the centre of town. We walked through the university etc as well as what looked like a council estate with a little market selling second hand junk, and a shop which had a prominent lota display so there is clearly a substantial desi population here. Toronto’s diversity is considerable, I must say. But no, I didn’t warm to the city.
We went to a Vietnamese place, the sort run by bearded hipsters and done up to look like a brothel, with the usual noise and uncomfortable seats. Unfortunately the food was only ok. Much too sweet for my taste, but we also ordered poorly.