National Yacht Club, Toronto - 16 kilometres walked
It was another glorious day walking the streets of Toronto. The temperature had dipped to a pleasant 23 degrees and we put a lot of miles on the sandals today.
We began with a long walk to the Nova Era Portuguese bakery and cafe on Dundas Street for coffee and bifana sandwiches. Along the way Stella's sandal had worn a blister into her foot so I went to the pharmacy next door and returned with these cool black fabric bandages that cost a mere two bucks compared to seven for the regular pink ones. I guess they are meant to match skin tone, but after all the sun and walking and caked-on Toronto street grime, Stella's foot-tops are well darkened so it was a close match.
From here we took a streetcar then a bus to the Distillery District in the east end of downtown. The hum and rattle of the streetcar put me into a dozy slumber and I was practically sleeping sitting up. Which meant I missed all the action at a homeless shelter we passed, where Ana recounted a bunch of scruffy dudes in a heated argument with a g-stringed and topless prostitute cheering from the sideliness. There's always something to see in the big city.
We wandered for several more hours then made our way back to the marina where I mixed Stella and I a mango rum cocktail while Ana had a short lie down as she had clobbered her head on a steel beam while getting up from a table in Distillery so wasn't feeling great.
After a while, Ana and I put together a massive plate of baked nachos and Daryl and Lydia and Zach and Willy joined us for drinks and a snack that turned into dinner. At 6:20 Stella reminded me that we had to leave to get her to the Exhibition Station in time for her train back home. She said her goodbyes then we jumped in the dinghy and motored to the regular place we tie up to get to the station, but discovered the grounds had been completely boarded up due to the Ontario Place reconstruction so we had to take the long way around. To make things worse, much of the fencing from the weekend's Indy racing was still up, which altered our path. To make things even worse, there was a damn Rod Stewart concert tonight so thousands of people with poor musical taste impeded our progress. After running the last kilometre or so, we made it to the station with two minutes to spare. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and she was on her way.
After resuming Happy Hour Position back in SeaLight's cockpit I commented to the gang that it was strange we couldn't hear any noise from the Rod Stewart concert.
"Maybe there is no concert tonight," Ana said.
"Oh, there's a concert," I said.
"How do you know?"
"Because thousands of those bastards were blocking our sprint to the station."
"And how do you know it's Rod Stewart?"
"Because half of them had canes and walkers. And the other half were wearing Rod Stewart concert t-shirts from 1972."
By 9:30 the Daryl and Lydia Foundation had returned to their boat and I was fast asleep, relishing the first early night of the trip.
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