My Home Town, Toronto for Matador U
I have been posting my MatadorU articles on another site, however, I thought that this was a fitting post for what we are feeling as we prepare to leave for our travels through Central Asia. This assignment was to write about my hometown in 500 words or less. At first I struggled with the assignment. I wasn’t really sure where to begin, but once I found my narrative the story came together. At least for me.
Toronto, My Home Town
“Damn it. Our ties have come loose.”
Dave is not thrilled to have to pull over to secure the lids of our storage bins in the back of our truck. The rain is coming down harder now and there is a definite chill in the air. We are moving our contents to Woodstock, two hours outside of Toronto. It is time to say good-bye to our beloved city. Who knows when or if we will ever live here again?
High Park Winter
I will never forget that beautiful winters day in 1991. Dave and I were graduating from college and we were moving to Toronto together from the town of Oakville. I was a small town girl growing up in Otterville. Dave was my big city hero raised Burlington Ontario.
Two young dreamers had made a union. Everyone thought we were crazy moving in together so soon but here we were driving around High Park Village on a cold February day searching for the perfect spot to start our new life together.
High Park is beautiful in the winter. Snow drapes over the sleeping maple and pine trees that line the Humber River. Large mansions tower over its banks and bright bakeries and delis are filled with locals shopping for dinner.
Winters are cold in Canada, but High Park is alive with energy. Boys play hockey in the outdoor rink, kids toboggan on its steep hills and families hike through the trails with their dogs. They stop for hot chocolate and warm up by the fire at the Grenadier Café located right in the centre of the park. It feels as if we have entered a Norman Rockwell Print.
Winter in High Park
We fell in love with Toronto’s West end that day and 18 years later we are still here. We have seen changes indeed. Prohibition has been lifted at the Junction of Dundas West. A strange technicality left a small corner of the city alcohol free until 1998. Since then, the rundown block just north of the park has opened up to pubs, bars, restaurants and condos.
We have left the city and province to try new places over the years but we have always been drawn to Toronto and its culturally diverse West End.
Home to Little Poland, Portugal, Italy and Malta, Toronto’s West End still has a feel of a bygone era. Fresh fruit is displayed daily at the local market, old men gather in front of businesses to discuss politics and history and people speak their mother tongue at the local shops.
High Park Village is the perfect amalgamation of new integrating with the old. No skyscrapers or nightclubs are allowed in these parts, but wine and martini bars are welcomed alongside the old Irish pub and Schnitzel house.
High Park, Winter Walk
We love the West End and today we are leaving it for the first time with uncertainty. In the past, we knew that we would be back it has always been our home.
A quick adjustment of the straps and we are back in business. “Good to go” Dave says as he shakes the raindrops off of his jacket.
We merge onto the highway with a quick glance back.
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