REPORT FROM THE HILL

As planned, we came into Carleton Place on Friday, detached the car, and scouted. Like the first explorers.

Turns out that Carleton Place has a Beckwith Park, same as Victoria. Not to compare or anything, but this one is bigger and better by far. Maybe ten soccer fields, three or four ball diamonds, indoor soccer, hockey rink…During the day it is a busy place, but at night it is totally vacant. Not a soul around, not even vandals. So, after securing permission, we park the moho behind the complex during the day while we’re in Ottawa, and after everyone has left in the evening we put it on the level pavement, put out the slides, and there we are. Perfect. They even have 24 hour washrooms, clean ones to boot. Bonus.

Here are the events of the weekend:

Smoke, as bad or worse than Calgary last month. Montreal had the worst air quality on the planet today, and Ottawa couldn’t have been far behind. Lots of stuff got canceled.

Went to the Canadian Museum of History yesterday, across the creek from Parliament in Quebec. A magnificent display. As always at such places, I wonder two things: how much did this joint cost, and, who is controlling the narrative. I try not to think about the latter, but Gail was complaining that Alberta hardly got mentioned at all, so I had to think about it again. My take: money controls the narrative. But I could be wrong. Maybe it’s the Russians.

I have a limited capacity to absorb details, but Gail has an unlimited capacity. Meaning that I was museumed out after three hours, but not Gail. She’d still be there if I didn’t drag her out after six hours. Got her money’s worth.

After that, we went to a pub on Sparks street. As we were leaving, I looked way up and saw a huge round glass thing on the top of the Marriott Hotel. “ That’s gotta be a viewing place,” I said. “No it isn’t,” said Gail. So we went to check. We asked an employee, and he said it was a conference area but it was closed. After awhile, he said, “Would you like to see it?”

“Sure,” we said.

“Go to the lobby and wait a minute,” he said.

In five minutes, he came back towing a guy in a suit. The guy looked us over and said, “follow me.” So we did.

Turns out that it’s a revolving restaurant with the best view in the entire city. They use it occasionally for weddings and stuff, but it’s not currently in operation as a restaurant. There was nobody there. The guy gave us a tour of the whole issue, and a tour of the Ottawa skyline in the process. Spectacular. Superb. Another gift. The best part: I was right. Again.

This morning we went to a big Anglican church down the street from Justin. After that it was off to the National Gallery of Canada. Having learned not to bite off more museum than I can chew, I left Gail there for an agreed period of time and went off to explore. She had a terrific time in there and I found something to eat at Byward Market.

During that time, I saw a cop car ripping down Sussex in pursuit of a guy on a bike. I couldn’t see where they went, but within seconds there was a cacophony of sirens. A plethora. A flurry. And when I came back to the Gallery an hour later, there were maybe ten emergency vehicles there, police tape everywhere, and one lonely bent bike on the pavement. I just read that the guy was waving a knife around and got shot by the cops. Fatally. Bad day for all concerned.

When Gail finally got exhausted at the art gallery, we went across the street to a magnificent basilica, and then we toured past 24 Sussex, Rideau Hall, and all such.

Ya. Like I said before, this is where it’s at. The center. All you hinterland dwellers just gotta accept that.

Speaking of, a hardy remnant of the trucker convoy is still here. Signs, megaphones, cops, everything. It looks like the cops have limited how many people, how much space, etc etc, so what they do is have a couple of people on one side of the street, preaching and carrying on, and a bunch more across the street with megaphones, harassing the cops who are trying to control the show. A couple of blocks removed, there are numerous cop cars here and there, no doubt ready to jump in as needed. Kind of entertaining, but totally devoid of any sane discourse. Maybe the first farmers that went down there had something to say, but not these guys. Vagrants and agitators. A net liability.

Tomorrow, maybe another museum, (airplanes cause it’s my turn), maybe we’ll find a bike. Maybe it will rain.

One thing I haven’t told y’all about is the various people we meet along the way, which I will soon. Introverted or not, most people wanna talk. I already knew that, but it has come clear to me again. Stay tuned.

PS watched the changing of the guard at the War Memorial. Felt bad for the young guy who got shot there awhile back. There is a cop stationed right there while the soldiers are doing their thing.