Toronto is one groovy babe who wears a Jeffrey Sebelia dress in the morning listening to Sean Paul’s song “Give It UpTo Me.” In the evening she changes to a Laura Bennet lace gown and dances to another Sean Paul dancehall music “We Be Burnin” (Just gimme the gees and we be clubbin yow/ Gal a make wi please and we be thuggin’ now). And don’t forget the bling-bling.
In the middle of December last year, shortly after my final exams and after accomplishing a tremendous task of completing five papers for two subjects Mr. David Smith gifted me with a three-day trip to Toronto. It was supposed to be a surprise gift only to be revealed a day before we leave for the trip. It was not until Mrs. Amy Costalo, the incoming president of the Filipino community in Rochester, New York, invited me to join other Pinoys in their Christmas party that Mr. Smith was “forced” to disclose the planned excursion, though he could have reasoned that he has another commitment to attend to (Before my conversation with Mrs. Costalo, I have learned that there is a large population of Filipinos in Rochester. This was revealed to me by a nun whom I chatted with and who sat next to me in a piano concerto with the world-renowned Barry Douglas playing Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2 with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra. Few days later we learned thru the news that the nun was given the key to city and whose picture I saw in a convent –where the nuns had their annual craft show- some walking distance from were we live. It turned out that she’s well-known for her civic service. On the other hand, a teller at the school’s Bursar’s office beamed when she learned I am a Filipino. “My doctor is Filipino!” she said).
So, on a Friday morning, we headed for the road, eager to beat the sun before it yawned and woke up for the day, only to go back as we forgot to bring with us a pertinent paper we needed for the trip. I have to give credit to Mr. Smith, he had been planning the trip for months after considering several places to visit – Las Vegas, Florida for a Disneyland Trip and Canada. For sure I followed his advice to bring just enough clothes for a 3-day sojourn. “It’s not like our Bangkok trip,” he said, knowing that I have an Imeldific-side of me, that is, like bringing with me the whole house on a trip if I can. “And bring only one book,” he begged. I ended up bringing three which I haven’t had the time to read at all. While Mr. Smith took the wheel I was tasked to look at the map. Did I say map? I cannot even locate Gonzaga St. or Lacson St. in Bacolod. But without any other choice I was compelled to locate Interstate roads that lead to the thruway. The road trip from Rochester to Toronto took eight hours. While traversing several bridges along the way, I asked myself if I better be a travel writer or even a food critic owing to Mr. Smith’s love for traveling and fine dining. He has been to Scotland, England, Netherlands, Belgium, France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Spain, Greece, Denmark, Bermuda, Puerto Rico, Mexico and several countries in Asia. We arrived in Toronto at 1 p.m. but we had to drive around as the hotel check-in time is at 4 p.m. I almost had a panic attack while we drove through Yonge St., once considered to be the longest street in the world. What a very busy street, like you can never imagine. I could not believe the traffic and most of the pedestrians have little or no regard to the traffic signs. I have gotten used to seeing a considerable number of people and wider streets in Rochester, the packed, narrow streets of Toronto though remind me of Bacolod. The sight, on the other hand, was a welcome treat. While Rochester boasts of its sprawling expanse concerning malls and famous clothing and jewelry stores, Toronto contends with its skyscrapers. While there is no parking space problem in Rochester we met a great difficulty looking for one in Toronto, the same difficulty we had in Niagara Falls. That didn’t matter as I was treated to a visual delight. At last I saw the famed Tiffany store, craving to visit it after watching Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s and seeing Mr. Smith’s collection of Tiffany crystals.
The next day we took the subway to visit the malls and several sites. The sun was generous enough to shine throughout our trip. “You must have brought with you the Philippine weather,” Mr. Smith teased me. Toronto in December is usually laden with snow. At Eaton Center, there was a heavily guarded Christmas tree - it was profoundly decorated with Swarovski crystals; gorgeous models at the Abercrombie and Fitch store were having a photoshoot, Asians were amassing (Filipinos comprise about 3.5 percent of the total population of the city. Though I heard several groups talk in Tagalog I was too coy to talk to them. I could have embraced one man and said: “Brother, my brother!” - missing perhaps the warm Filipino language). We took pictures of the CN Tower and other famous sights whose names escape my mind. Toronto’s City Hall is an architectural marvel - designed as a human eye, the eyelid towers surrounding the eyeball. What is a vacation without shopping! Though I restrained myself in buying any books, I shopped for clothes (later finding famous labels that are made in the Philippines. Ha! At least I saw products that are not made in China) while Mr. Smith added another set of crystal glasses and antique items to his collection. In the evening, my real treat was unveiled; Mr. Smith had reserved seats for us to watch the world-famous Radio City Rockettes at the Hummingbird Centre for the Performing Arts. It was the group’s Canadian debut. They’re as brilliant as diamonds, especially when they performed the 12 days of Christmas. The $100 per person ticket was worth it considering that they featured 11 spectacular performances called Scenes and every scene was like a precious gem that you can stare at over and over again without getting tired of it. As everyone knows, being a Rockette is one of the most prestigious and glamorous achievements for a woman dancer. After the show, we had a nice dinner at the Richtree Restaurant in BCE Place (Heritage Square, see http://www.richtree.ca/). It took me literally almost an hour to decide what meal I wanted to eat considering the wide variety of food they have. I ended up pointing at the shrimp and chicken pasta being prepared by an Asian girl. We barely missed the firework display at the Toronto City Hall but we did witness the ice skating bonanza at the Nathan Philips Square in front of the city hall though we had to squeeze through the humongous crowd.
One of the most exciting spots in Toronto is the subterranean shopping mall called the PATH, which is a 27-kilometre network of pedestrian tunnels beneath the office towers of downtown Toronto. The Path is considered to be the largest underground shopping complex in the world.
It so happened that the hotel we were staying at is near the gay village. Hours before we left for home we had a buffet brunch at a multi-awarded place called Zelda’s (http://www.zeldas.ca/) while watching lovers pass by the restaurants and gay men taking their dogs for a walk. But, of course, you will not find a lot of gay men parading the streets on a Sunday morning.
We left Toronto with a surreal satisfaction. Sean Paul’s music has mellowed and we embraced the cool, soothing sound of a piano concerto. Once outside the city we looked back and admired once again the lush towers and buildings - we realized the inevitable power of the mind; though we felt the city calling us back we resisted, we have other matters to contend with. We squinted our eyes and breathed deep, “O you lovely city!” and headed for home.
(I have submitted this article for my column early in January however it has been sitting on the editor's table for weeks without seeing the light. Inquiries about its status remains unanswered. Ha! That made me think something's not right at this time)
In the middle of December last year, shortly after my final exams and after accomplishing a tremendous task of completing five papers for two subjects Mr. David Smith gifted me with a three-day trip to Toronto. It was supposed to be a surprise gift only to be revealed a day before we leave for the trip. It was not until Mrs. Amy Costalo, the incoming president of the Filipino community in Rochester, New York, invited me to join other Pinoys in their Christmas party that Mr. Smith was “forced” to disclose the planned excursion, though he could have reasoned that he has another commitment to attend to (Before my conversation with Mrs. Costalo, I have learned that there is a large population of Filipinos in Rochester. This was revealed to me by a nun whom I chatted with and who sat next to me in a piano concerto with the world-renowned Barry Douglas playing Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2 with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra. Few days later we learned thru the news that the nun was given the key to city and whose picture I saw in a convent –where the nuns had their annual craft show- some walking distance from were we live. It turned out that she’s well-known for her civic service. On the other hand, a teller at the school’s Bursar’s office beamed when she learned I am a Filipino. “My doctor is Filipino!” she said).
So, on a Friday morning, we headed for the road, eager to beat the sun before it yawned and woke up for the day, only to go back as we forgot to bring with us a pertinent paper we needed for the trip. I have to give credit to Mr. Smith, he had been planning the trip for months after considering several places to visit – Las Vegas, Florida for a Disneyland Trip and Canada. For sure I followed his advice to bring just enough clothes for a 3-day sojourn. “It’s not like our Bangkok trip,” he said, knowing that I have an Imeldific-side of me, that is, like bringing with me the whole house on a trip if I can. “And bring only one book,” he begged. I ended up bringing three which I haven’t had the time to read at all. While Mr. Smith took the wheel I was tasked to look at the map. Did I say map? I cannot even locate Gonzaga St. or Lacson St. in Bacolod. But without any other choice I was compelled to locate Interstate roads that lead to the thruway. The road trip from Rochester to Toronto took eight hours. While traversing several bridges along the way, I asked myself if I better be a travel writer or even a food critic owing to Mr. Smith’s love for traveling and fine dining. He has been to Scotland, England, Netherlands, Belgium, France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Spain, Greece, Denmark, Bermuda, Puerto Rico, Mexico and several countries in Asia. We arrived in Toronto at 1 p.m. but we had to drive around as the hotel check-in time is at 4 p.m. I almost had a panic attack while we drove through Yonge St., once considered to be the longest street in the world. What a very busy street, like you can never imagine. I could not believe the traffic and most of the pedestrians have little or no regard to the traffic signs. I have gotten used to seeing a considerable number of people and wider streets in Rochester, the packed, narrow streets of Toronto though remind me of Bacolod. The sight, on the other hand, was a welcome treat. While Rochester boasts of its sprawling expanse concerning malls and famous clothing and jewelry stores, Toronto contends with its skyscrapers. While there is no parking space problem in Rochester we met a great difficulty looking for one in Toronto, the same difficulty we had in Niagara Falls. That didn’t matter as I was treated to a visual delight. At last I saw the famed Tiffany store, craving to visit it after watching Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s and seeing Mr. Smith’s collection of Tiffany crystals.
The next day we took the subway to visit the malls and several sites. The sun was generous enough to shine throughout our trip. “You must have brought with you the Philippine weather,” Mr. Smith teased me. Toronto in December is usually laden with snow. At Eaton Center, there was a heavily guarded Christmas tree - it was profoundly decorated with Swarovski crystals; gorgeous models at the Abercrombie and Fitch store were having a photoshoot, Asians were amassing (Filipinos comprise about 3.5 percent of the total population of the city. Though I heard several groups talk in Tagalog I was too coy to talk to them. I could have embraced one man and said: “Brother, my brother!” - missing perhaps the warm Filipino language). We took pictures of the CN Tower and other famous sights whose names escape my mind. Toronto’s City Hall is an architectural marvel - designed as a human eye, the eyelid towers surrounding the eyeball. What is a vacation without shopping! Though I restrained myself in buying any books, I shopped for clothes (later finding famous labels that are made in the Philippines. Ha! At least I saw products that are not made in China) while Mr. Smith added another set of crystal glasses and antique items to his collection. In the evening, my real treat was unveiled; Mr. Smith had reserved seats for us to watch the world-famous Radio City Rockettes at the Hummingbird Centre for the Performing Arts. It was the group’s Canadian debut. They’re as brilliant as diamonds, especially when they performed the 12 days of Christmas. The $100 per person ticket was worth it considering that they featured 11 spectacular performances called Scenes and every scene was like a precious gem that you can stare at over and over again without getting tired of it. As everyone knows, being a Rockette is one of the most prestigious and glamorous achievements for a woman dancer. After the show, we had a nice dinner at the Richtree Restaurant in BCE Place (Heritage Square, see http://www.richtree.ca/). It took me literally almost an hour to decide what meal I wanted to eat considering the wide variety of food they have. I ended up pointing at the shrimp and chicken pasta being prepared by an Asian girl. We barely missed the firework display at the Toronto City Hall but we did witness the ice skating bonanza at the Nathan Philips Square in front of the city hall though we had to squeeze through the humongous crowd.
One of the most exciting spots in Toronto is the subterranean shopping mall called the PATH, which is a 27-kilometre network of pedestrian tunnels beneath the office towers of downtown Toronto. The Path is considered to be the largest underground shopping complex in the world.
It so happened that the hotel we were staying at is near the gay village. Hours before we left for home we had a buffet brunch at a multi-awarded place called Zelda’s (http://www.zeldas.ca/) while watching lovers pass by the restaurants and gay men taking their dogs for a walk. But, of course, you will not find a lot of gay men parading the streets on a Sunday morning.
We left Toronto with a surreal satisfaction. Sean Paul’s music has mellowed and we embraced the cool, soothing sound of a piano concerto. Once outside the city we looked back and admired once again the lush towers and buildings - we realized the inevitable power of the mind; though we felt the city calling us back we resisted, we have other matters to contend with. We squinted our eyes and breathed deep, “O you lovely city!” and headed for home.
(I have submitted this article for my column early in January however it has been sitting on the editor's table for weeks without seeing the light. Inquiries about its status remains unanswered. Ha! That made me think something's not right at this time)
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