Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Part deux

I overheard myself telling the following story to my mother the other night and literally thought to myself "whose life am I leading?" 

The answer, incredibly, is mine.

To recap, it was time to come home after spending a few remarkable days in Cochrane visiting my beau at work. You-know-who thought it would be a great time for me to "feel the fear and do it anyway," or something similar, and so the decision was made (ahem) that we would fly back... by helicopter.


While this may sound slightly out of this world to many (including me) the beau is actually a helicopter pilot so it is not completely so. But still...


As we slowly separated from the earth, literally lifting and gliding up and off the ground, I closed my eyes (to recap: i am afraid of flying) and tightened up for a long, three hour ride. 

But then out of nowhere, and rather rapidly, the most amazing thing happened: I started to enjoy myself. Really enjoy myself. 

What wasn't there to enjoy?

The view was beautiful. The feeling was incredible - so light and free. As Lou Reed sang, it was "just a perfect day." And the fear, incredibly, was gone. I wondered if it was really possible to overcome a fear so quickly and apparently it was because the next time we took off, I actually kept my eyes open. For the first time in a very long time.

And it's a good thing I did too. Or else look what I would have missed: 








Not bad for a citycountry bumpkin.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Life really is like a box of chocolates

Just when I thought I knew exactly what was coming, another semi-lonely week in Gatineau with little more than Anthony Bourdain and my own (admittedly fertile) imagination to keep me busy, everything changed - in a Cochrane minute!

My beau, whose been away for the past two weeks, offered to fly me down to Cochrane, ON to see how the other half lives. And by the other half I mean Cochranites... and pilots.

Those who know me know that I don't like to fly so even though I was elated at the prospect of seeing my lovely beau, and parts unknown, I was equally terrified at the prospect of having to fly there to accomplish my goals. The first flight was fine, relatively speaking, but the second leg of the journey, from Toronto to Cochrane, took place on a tiny (again, relatively speaking) Dash-8. Not so fine.

Once arrived, I had the pleasure of meeting one of my beau's co-workers, having a delicious dinner at JR's BBQ restaurant, world-renowned (lol) for its ribs, and staying at a shabby-chic motel. My favourite!


The next day, I enjoyed a late breakfast at Tim Hortons. While I usually wouldn't bother mentioning such a thing, it is worth mentioning because Tim Horton, the hockey player, was actually born in Cochrane. I spent the rest of the day exploring downtown (again, lol), reading and taking pictures. It was quite blissful, actually.









On day three, the unimaginable happened. 

I saw a polar bear.

Ganuk was his name and eating fruit was his game.






When the time finally came to make plans to come home, someone (you know who) suggested taking a helicopter. And I, surprisingly, agreed.

Stay tuned for part deux!




This last picture is for you mum - it reminded me of us... mama bear and daughter bear - just like my name implies!


Friday, September 14, 2012

Go to H. U. double hockey sticks!

The reason I decided to go to Hull this week, or old Hull more specifically, is because I saw it from the bus on my way to Ottawa the other day and it looked really cute. Cute in that small, quaint, old-fashioned way that I'm so fond of. I also thought it would be a fun little adventure; going somewhere that I've never been before - and on foot, to boot!

I used Google directions to find the best route but in retrospect, I think I can safely say that Google was wrong. On my way home I opted for another route, one with sidewalks and people as opposed to warehouses and that funny, lingering chemical smell.




It took close to two hours to get there and I'm not ashamed to say that I considered turning around and going home more than once but I persevered... and made it! As I ignored the blisters on my feet and the pain in my lower back, I marveled at the wonder of old Hull with its hilly streets and, well, chipping paint.


Promenade du Portage, the main street, lived up to the hype though (the hype I created in my mind, that is) and featured a good selection of shops, bars, cafés and restaurants as well as a really cool bicycle store, Pecco's.   




I stopped in at a nice little chocolate shop and picked up some home-made ice cream which i enjoyed while sitting outside, looking at this odd spectacle:


That's one way to lock up a bike, I guess.

So after taking in the sights I gave myself a little pep talk and walked home. There's something magical that happens while walking, something about the left and right sides of the brain, I've heard, and I have to admit that I felt pretty good when I got home.




Home sweet home!

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Ahora, pleased to meet you!

Lately, it seems as though everything in my life has revolved around food. From watching television about it to taking pictures of it, with eating it, of course, somewhere in between. Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations, which I now watch daily, started the obsession I think. Or maybe it was simply the fact that I love to eat good food.

I also love mustaches.    


On a day trip to Ottawa the other day I happened upon, or rather, my friend walked me into, a delightful Mexican restaurant called Ahora. Located on Dalhousie in the equally delightful Byward Market, Ahora is a small, colourful, authentic, delicious cafeteria-style restaurant. Which is why I took pictures of it in black and white. I'm funny like that.




I knew that it was authentic when I saw that it served tortilla soup, one of my all-time favourite dishes, I once bribed a waiter in Mexico, I kid you not, to get into a restaurant that served tortilla soup. To-die-for tortilla soup.

Made with fried tortilla strips, chicken broth, tomatoes, onion, garlic, pasilla, epazote, avocado, sour cream and lots of lime, tortilla soup is one of those life-changing discoveries, flavour-wise.


What are some of your all-time favourite dishes, or dining spots?


Thursday, September 6, 2012

Driving Miss Daisy


I did it! I finally did it! I got behind the wheel of my car, solo, and drove to the gym and back (working out in between, obviously). While this may seem like nothing to most, for me, who hasn't driven in five years and lived in a city where public transportation and even walking were preferable to driving, it was a major feat. 

Now, a fait accompli.


I had been holding on to being a pedestrian for a few reasons, staying safely inside my comfort zone being one of them, for quite a while (well, two months actually) but decided this morning that part of moving somewhere new, and different, is adapting to a new way of life, of doing things, of getting places.

And not being afraid.

When I moved to Japan when I was 22 years old, I was given a job, an apartment and a bike and told to get on my way - and I did. With little or no fear, I threw caution to the wind (literally) and did things like bike through a typhoon in the middle of the night and navigate my way through a maze-like subway system without knowing a word of the language.

Now, more than a few years later (!), I am slightly less flexible to change, slightly less willing to throw caution to the wind. I weigh, and worry, and in the end, don't think I make any better, or worse, decisions than I used to.

So today, instead of walking to the gym on the side of a busy road so-obviously-not- designed with pedestrians in mind I got behind the wheel of my car and just did it.

SIDE NOTE: I absolutely do not want to become one of those people who drives everywhere. I consider myself a bit of a greenie and don't like feeling like I have to give up my principles to assimilate. On the other hand, I want to be able to like, see people, and like, do things, and like... go places!

Another thing I did solo this week was make poutine. My major complaint with most poutines is the cheese-to-everything-else ratio: there is never enough cheese. 

Problem solved!