The first day in Toronto (pronounced phonetically by tourists only - locals skip the first two 'o's and the second 't'; hence the stupid post title) was a bit of a non-event. Our bus arrived late afternoon, and after the most stressful taxi ride of my life so far, we arrived at the hostel without the energy to do more than eat and sleep. Toronto is by far the biggest city we've been to yet - it's almost a mini New York (apparently film companies often use it as a cheaper double for NYC).
Day two started early, on our first guided tour; a bus to Niagara Falls. I'm pretty sceptical about the rehearsed nature of these things ordinarily, but my faith in this particular guide was cemented when, on realising he'd left his bag in the city five minutes after setting off, he pulled onto the hard shoulder and had his manager run to a parallel walkway. There was a ditch between the highway and the path, so Tour Guide's solution was to have his manager lob the rucksack onto the motorway, over the ditch. I was already in stitches at the back of the bus, but I nearly cracked a rib when the manager missed and had to shimmy down the ditch for round two. In the end, rucksack in tow, we made it to Niagara Falls without any more hiccoughs (hiccups? I'm never sure and spellcheck won't commit either). The Falls were gorgeous, if foggier than expected, and the 'Maid of the Mist' boat trip very funny in our ludicrous blue ponchos. The only problem with Niagara Falls is the town itself - this place makes Blackpool look classy. The whole town is one huge, garishly bright, overpriced gift shop.
As if to make up for this, our guide then drove us to a nearby village called Niagara-on-the-Lake, which by contrast was like the Pleasantville to Niagara Falls' Tacky Town. Our last stop was a winery owned by Ghostbusters's Dan Aykroyd, to sample some Canadian icewine. My distinctly tenuous understanding is that this is wine which, in grape form, is left to freeze and harvested in February (as opposed to, you know, that time of year when most grapes are harvested...), producing a thicker, MUCH sweeter result. It was like drinking alcoholic syrup. Never one to turn my nose up at free booze, I tried a couple of different samples, but there was no way I was paying $35 for a beer-sized bottle (sorry, Dan Aykroyd).Day three was much less organised, but even more fun for it. Myself, Julia and Jess wandered down to the St Lawrence market, where my eye was instantly drawn to a sign advertising peameal bacon sandwiches (as far as I can tell, peameal is cornflour...I don't really understand either, but it was delicious). There was a gorgeous moment when the three of us were sat outside next to a busker, in brilliant sunshine, eating our butties and feeling extraordinarily smug.
Full and happy, we headed to the Distillery District - once a hive of factory workers and labourers, but these days The Chic Place To Be. We saw three separate couples having their wedding photos taken against the industrial red brick (looked like Manchester to me, but apparently qualifies as Canadian hipster). We were pretty convinced one particular couple were models rather than newlyweds, as their 'photo shoot' went on for HOURS and "they looked more pretty than happy". This theory was challenged later in the day, the three of us sitting in the sun with a beer and shamelessly ogling the progression of photographs, when a stampede of Barbies and Canadian Made In Chelsea extras arrived to spice up the pictures. It was like our own mini soap opera - the respective mothers in law throwing each other looks of absolute filth before the shutter clicked, the groom sneakily semi-groping a bridesmaid, the LAYERS of passive aggression palpable in the subtext of every conversation we eavesdropped on. It was brilliant. We only had one morning left before our bus, so spent it wandering along the harbour of Lake Ontario in still more sunshine. I'd heard some pretty mixed reviews of Toronto and so wasn't expecting much, but our time there was every bit as lovely as Montreal and Quebec. Toronto, for us, was an example of being lucky in your wanderings, and a city I would love to return to.
