12 Feb city living
Did you ever step outside your door and meet a stranger? No, like bump into a stranger? Full frontal contact? Well, living near one of the busiest intersections in Toronto, I do almost everyday. This will take some time to get used to. Moving from London, a relatively sleepy town, to the big Tee Dot, I’m feeling quite clumsy, or even goofy, in my new surroundings.
When I do step out onto the street, that being Queen, I’m shell-shocked with stimulus: cars, people, store front lights, street cars, more people, pretty shops, more pretty shops, people …. it’s overload. But, I must say, I walk down the street with a mile long grin on my face, because, for the longest time, this city was a place I visited. I came to eat at the amazing Mexican or Italian restaurants that are so authentic it makes you feel like you’re in that country. I came to dance at places like The Orbit Room. And Kensington Market. I always came to visit Kensington with its fun-loving hippies and free spirits. I didn’t feel so out-of-place here. I belonged.
Now, walking into Kensington, stopping at Cheese Magic, the guys behind the counter know me. “Beemster please!” Turning onto a new street in the market, one I’d never visited, I sit down near a window, drinking a coffee, and staring out at my Kensington. My city.
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