Toronto Free Gallery and the dangers of maple syrup. 21st May 2008

Utterly dedicated to the end, we decided to cram in one more research visit on our way to the airport. This was the Toronto Free Gallery, which had been recommended to us by many of the people we had met throughout the trip.

Disguised as a hardware store, the gallery was initially difficult to find. However, undeterred, we managed to accost the director, Heather Haynes with our wheelie suitcases, which were bulging with our Honest Ed goodies.

The Toronto Free Gallery was one of the newest projects that we have visited. Having recently moved into the former hardware store, the gallery is still in its development stage and has the potential for studio and performance spaces. Heather, who moved from San Francisco after George Dubya was first elected, set up the gallery as a space to show socio-political artworks which relate to the local environment (Toronto Public Space Committee have previously shown in the space).

After a hurried goodbye to Heather and Toronto in general, we legged it to the airport, where we arrived flustered and sweaty, only to be frisked and stripped of our contraband maple syrup (every terrorist’s weapon of choice).

And so ends a wonderful trip. Everyone we met was friendly, generous and hospitable and all the projects we visited were inspiring. The food wasn’t bad either (have we mentioned that?). So thank you to everyone who took the time to talk to us and if you’re ever passing Preston, there’s a sofa with your name on it.

Laying it on the dude from Niagra. 20th May, 2008

Having finished the picnic before leaving Toronto city limits, we set off on the bus for St Catherine’s, near Niagara.

Being British made it more acceptable to interrupt 30 sociologists mid feast at the Niagara Artist Centre where we were expected for a meeting with the aforementioned 'dude' and director of the centre, Stephen Remus. (Elaine, having bagsied first dibs at 'laying on', was slightly disappointed to find this was only a figure of local speech).

Niagra Artist Centre

Joking aside, this is a great space where members of the gallery can apply to show their work alongside a changing programme of national and international artists. Set up in 1969, it is one of the oldest artist-led spaces in Canada (and possibly the world!) and has a membership of over 300. The basement, which holds many treasures, from a stuffed trout to a darkroom and mac computer suite, is used as a resource for members and wandering sociologists...... (there's a 3 month waiting list for the trout).

We really liked this space as it felt connected with the local community and, above all, provided us with our only fresh fruit of the holiday - sorry, research trip - blatantly pilfered from under the noses of the disapproving sociologists.

After a hard half day of taxing research we indulged in a well deserved trip to Niagara Falls where we spent $14 to dress up as giant blue condoms and get drenched as part of the Maid o' t'Mist experience.

Victoria day (whoooooooo?) 19th May 2008

As it was an official public holiday, we felt that it would be rude to do any work whatsoever. Well you have to respect the culture, don't you? Instead, in homage to Canadian culture, we re-visited China town - the scene of one of our previous misdemeanours (we checked the lift but no trace of the old lady was found; only the walking stick remained - so we got away with that one...)

Armed with local knowledge (otherwise known as Iain Bailey, so suspicion should have been instantly aroused), we sought out the best Chinese restaurant in town. Unfortunately, we ended up at ‘Wok You Lookin’ At’, (well, it would have been called that if it was in Preston), where the tables were covered in 25-deep white plastic table clothes, (no re-cycling necessary) and the waitress asked us twice whether we really wanted to order ‘2’ of the beef chow mein, before arriving at the table with what can only be described as half a cow. Not to everyone’s taste, but yum anyway!

After wrestling with the longest noodles known to man, we speedily returned to the apartment to prepare ourselves for the highlight of the Canadian calendar – the fireworks on the beach of Lake Ontario. After a good feed and raiding Elizabeth’s wardrobe for warm clothes (travelling more than 10 miles from Preston, we assumed that we only need bring vest tops, flip-flops and factor 30), we left to catch the bus. Just as Elaine was getting used to the stares that skinny jeans and clown-scale shoes (Elizabeth’s size 8s on her size 6 feet) were receiving from fellow bus passengers, and Robina's and Rebecca’s excitement had reached fever pitch, the fireworks climaxed in a display that was almost visible from the steamy bus windows. It was all over before we’d arrived and not for the first time.

Oh well, back to the Sportster bar on Coxwell where Rebecca sweet-talked her way to a Canadian pint glass , (she was having it any way).