A Transit City for My City

Rarely do I step back from my own adventures and talk about stuff that’s going on in Canada. But this issue is something quite close to my heart. When I was at home during Christmas I kept seeing signs for the TTC’s Transit City plan. And I have to say that I am ecstatic about it. The plans look amazing: 120 km of LRT spread out over seven lines, 175 million new riders a year, 92% less emissions. Transit City aims to finally link Toronto’s suburbs (Scarborough, Etobicoke and parts of North York) to the core. As someone who has taken the Scarborough RT for years and suffered through the nails-on-a-chalkboard-magnified-a-million-times squealing of the tracks, I eagerly await a newer, modern LRT system.

LRT in Brussels that goes above and below ground

I know they’re at the planning stages still and that transit projects usually proceed with prehistoric-age speed, but I will not be discouraged. According to this, the Mayor Miller plans to have financing early in 2009 and break ground by the end of the year.

"If we have [federal] funding commitments in January, we can do a lot to get shovels in the ground by the end of 2009," Mr. Miller promises.

The first visible project of Transit City is a new light-rail line on Sheppard Avenue (from Don Mills Station to Morningside Avenue), with construction set for September, 2009. But the mayor says federal dollars could speed up plans for the next two projects in the lineup: the Eglinton Crosstown (from Kennedy Station to Pearson Airport) and a new Etobicoke-Finch West line (from Yonge Street to Highway 27).

That's all well and good, but don’t let the exclamation points and italics fool you. There are issues and problems with the plan (financing it not to mention that it probably won’t shorten the commute downtown by that much), but it’s a start and an effort at tackling a huge problem in this city.

Inside the LRT in Brussels

All the articles about the plan always mention the “European-style light rail” which is funny but completely true. Light rail in some form has been in most of the cities I’ve been to (with London a notable exception). I have to admit, when I first heard about the plan a year or two ago, I was very skeptical. Streetcars in Scarborough sounded like the worst idea I’d ever heard. But then I went to Europe. It works. The Dutch rely on nothing else in Amsterdam and streetcars cross major streets with no problem. It works for them, let’s see how it’ll work for us.

Waterloo, Finally Facing My Waterloo

The last trip day trip I took in Belgium was a little homage to home. I went to Waterloo, where Britain’s Duke of Wellington, along with Prussia, the Netherlands (and parts of Belgium), took on the might of the French empire under Napoleon Bonaparte. I’m not one for battlefields (I have no desire to see the many WWI or WWII battlefields scattered throughout Belgium), but this one was pretty cool.

The battle took place June 18, 1815 and was a pretty big deal. Afterward, Napoleon was defeated, and exiled on an island in the Mediterranean, and France left in shambles and the map of Europe was re-drawn at the Congress of Vienna and Europe would go on to enjoy peace (for the most part) until 1914. So there is a definite sense of occasion in the air.

Waterloo is a town an hour south of Brussels that’s actually quite happening, but you can’t tell this from the battlefield which takes place in the middle of nowhere. All you can see is farm land for miles and miles. The best view is from the Lion’s Mound, a cast iron lion statue that weighs 26 metric tonnes and sits atop a 41 metre-high hill, accessed by 226 steps (hardly my record but still quite a tiring climb). Erected between 1824 and 1826, it was erected on the spot where the Dutch Prince—and a member of Wellington’s army—was injured. It symbolizes the return of peace to Europe.

The Lion's Mound

Stairs leading to the top

The View from the top of the mound

The site is pretty impressive. With my €9 euro ticket I got to climb the Lion’s Mound, witness several cannon ball firings (very exciting once your ears stop ringing), an audio visual presentation, a film (that used children to act out the battle, which didn’t seem right), a huge panorama of the battle that was literally the size of a building and a wax museum as well as a guided tour of the battle in a bus. I was pretty happy with the day.

Napoleon

Getting ready to fire the cannon

There is one blazing omission I noticed at the site. There are memorials to the Prussians and Dutch, Victor Hugo (for some reason), and the soldiers that died, but there are no statues to Wellington who actually won the battle. All I could see was this statue of Napoleon.

I was told by some Brits I met that Wellington is celebrated in Britain, but you’d think he’d get some love in the battlefield in which he was the victor of. I guess not.

French soldiers hanging out

He did get his own museum in the town of Waterloo though, which was quite impressive. It was located in the inn Wellington stayed in the night before the battle. It not only housed his bed (which I touched), but the coat he wore to battle, and the bed that Sir Alexander Gordon—Wellington’s friend—died in (touched that too).

The inn Wellington stayed at the night before the war

Wellington's bed

A nice surprise of the museum was a room dedicated to Waterloos around the world. Sure enough, both Waterloo, Ontario and Waterloo, Quebec (who knew?) were featured, with big billboards and even a display case of Canadian maple syrup, beer and mayonnaise (definitely from the Quebecers). You Ontarian Waterlooers can be proud that apparently, the greatest Octoberfest outside of Munich takes place in Waterloo, Ontario. Fun fact, John Deere assembles their famous tractors in Waterloo, Iowa.

Canadian maple syrup and mayonnaise

For the Ottawans.

For all of you reading this who live, lived, have visited or spent time in our nation’s capital, this post is for you. While sitting in a train station in Cologne waiting for my train to arrive I looked up and was met with this beautiful sight.


And for a second I was transported to the O-Train platform at Greenboro or Carleton. There are no bells (or bilingual British woman voice) in the German version. But it was enough to make me nostalgic for the countless times I spent running to catch it.

Home is where the heart is

This doesn't have anything to do with Europe, but I thought I'd pass it on for those of you in Toronto (or nearby). It proves you don't need to be 3,000 miles away to be world class. It may not be Europe, but I think Toronto is still pretty amazing.

My Digs

A lot of you have been asking for pictures of my apartment in Brussels. Well here they are. Let's start the tour with my bedroom.

I know I could have cleaned it up some, but then it wouldn't have that authentic people-actually-live-here feel. In the bottom right of the picture you can just make out the desk and chair. I'm particularly happy with these pieces of furniture as it's like I have an office. There's actually quite a bit of furniture in the house. I have a chair and two night tables as does Cassandra and Olivier (my other roommate).

This is the view from my doorway. Those white doors lead to Cassandra's room. The best thing about this picture is that shows off the the closet. Since it's in my room, I use the bulk of it, but my roommates hang whatever stuff they need to hang.

This is the view from my door. It's Olivier's room/the living room. Right beside the black couch is the entrance to the apartment. There's also a TV to the right of the picture. We turned the table to face the other way so he can have drawers for clothes and the like (in addition to the dresser across from his bed) and to separate his bed from the rest of the room. Though we needn't really have bothered as we don't use this room except to traverse through it on our way to the bathroom, kitchen or living room.

Which brings me to the living room. This is where most of the furniture is: two couches, a love seat and several chairs. And a sofa bed. There's also a dinner table that we've used once. The room is ideal for entertaining which we've done twice so far (we have a dinner party planned for next week). There are French doors that open onto a little balcony where you can can watch traffic pass on the street. Right beside these doors, is another door leading to the kitchen.

The kitchen got the seal of approval from Cassandra, so it must be serviceable. We've got a fridge and freezer although the fridge is smaller than we're used to. But there's a dishwasher (thank God) and a stove. But no microwave or George Foreman grill--which has added another dimension to my cooking, but I'm coping. What you can't see is right beside the stove (the black square to the right of the picture) is the washer/dryer. Weird, I know. But it's very common here.

Finally the bathroom. It's last because it didn't really flow well with the floor plan. It is off from the living room. It's much bigger than this picture makes it look. I'm actually standing inside the door and beside me is a huge chest of drawers and cubbies where we store various bathroom essentials I will not bore you with.

Tour ended.

All in all, I'm happy with it. It has its good and bad features. For one, it's a little low on privacy. As you've probably guessed, since Cassandra lives in the far bedroom in order for her to go anywhere, she has to cut through my bedroom. For other roommates that might have been a problem, but when you've slept in the same room for a month, it's not a big deal. And it's a big expensive. But it's got a huge kitchen, in-house laundry, is very bright when there's sunshine and comes with everything included (internet, satellite cable and all utilities). There's also a rooftop terrace a level up from us. Although we've never used it as the weather in Belgium is horrible. I'll be sad when I have to move out and find another (smaller and no doubt less awesome) place for August.

A Hankering For Some Bacon

There are a lot of things I miss from home. I miss my family and friends. I miss using an electrical appliance without having to use an adapter. I miss turning on a television and understanding every channel. But most of all, I miss bacon. I really love bacon.

I grew up in a very strictly nutritious family: whole wheat was improved on by baking oats into the dough. Liver was a frequent dish. Red meat was banished. And the wine was always red. Meals consisted of salad/soup, main course and then fruit. And the fruit part was obligatory. In fact, you couldn’t move onto the dessert unless you had consumed at least one piece of fruit—extra points for two or three pieces (NOTE: The points are meaningless). Do not pass GO, do not collect $100. And so in this temple of the body, bacon was a four letter word.

In my youth, naturally, I rebelled. Some smoke, others drink while others drop out of school. I did neither. Mine was a dietary rebellion. I am a chocoholic. I have literal, physical chocolate cravings that are vicious and all consuming. Similar to a mother bear protecting her cub, I scour and forage for sugar, throwing whatever objects are in my way aside in my single-minded search. I love Coco-Cola Classic (one of the only concessions to my health is drinking Coke Zero) and will not hesitate to drink it at 7am (I had it before my cereal once). And I love bacon.

So that’s why being here is so tough. It’s never expressly said, but I get the feeling that Europeans aren’t really great fans of pigs. Bacon isn't on any menus I’ve seen and I rarely see BLT sandwiches anywhere. This has been really difficult for someone who loves a nice, honking slice of bacon.

That’s why today was so special. My roommate Cassandra—saint that she is and a cook of substantially more skill than I—made us a lovely North American breakfast: bacon, scrambled eggs, toast and juice. It was so homey, it almost brought a tear to my eye. Then, shaking off any emotions, I inhaled it and any remnants of the bacon and it was all over.