Tag: ottawa

Flying from Ottawa to Portland: My Travel Experience

July 3, 2024

Although some people are used to flying and to the hurly-burly of moving through airports, I found it a pain in the butt flying from Ottawa, ON, to Vancouver, BC, and then to Portland, OR, and back. The entire experience, especially clearing security, which I found a bracing experience, only reinforced my dislike for flying.

Preparations for our flight started a few days before departure. I set the alarm clock for four a.m. to get used to an early start. I wanted to make sure the alarm clock worked, and it did. Such an early morning start is not my typical schedule.

I reserved a taxi to take us to the airport the night before but was worried about what would happen if it did not come. In that case, I thought of taking our car to the long-term parking lot and hauling our suitcases a mile to the airport. But the taxi came and messaged me fifteen minutes before the reserved time that it was on the way and again when parked on our driveway. Impressive.

Leaving our house involves shutting off the water main in case of a leak that may flood the basement and installing the alarm system. Since I did not want to carry my heavy keychain on the trip, I left a key hidden in the garage but also put a house key in my wallet in case the electricity would be off coming home, making the garage door inoperable, in which case I would use the key in my wallet to open the front door of the house. I think of all the situations that could go wrong; maybe I am paranoid.

Arriving at the departure lounge, I showed the airline attendant our boarding passes, printed at home, and asked what we needed to do next. She asked if we wanted to use the self-serve kiosks or talk to someone to get our luggage tags. I found her question strange: why would she not just help us? She seemed as if she did not want to be bothered by passengers before six am. However, hearing our conversation, a colleague quickly came forward and offered help with a smile.

After this rude welcome, though, the airline attendants were excellent during the rest of the trip, including subsequent legs with the same airline. For example, when paying for a sandwich on the plane, the stewardess noticed my Aeroplan card in my wallet and recorded the card number for the purchase, adding points to my account.

Next came the security check. I hate putting my wallet and passport on the long conveyor belt, afraid of losing or someone stealing them, which could happen when they pat me down looking for the metal in my body. I usually point to my hips, where I had joint replacements, to help security staff locate the metal. I know there is no need to do that since they use a wand to pat down my entire body, but I feel better by trying to help them. I walked through the x-ray machine, and an agent patted me down with a wand for fifteen minutes. Then, he asked me to lean against the wall and lift my shoes’ soles for visual inspection.

In contrast, the security check was more detailed on the trip’s second leg from Vancouver to Portland. The inspectors opened my carry-on suitcase, and my “Kindle” enjoyed a second trip through the X-ray machine. I always place my laptop in a basket, but they told me at the Ottawa airport that I did not have to take out my Kindle and put it in a basket since it only has a virtual keyboard! Then, they also removed my toiletry case, extracted a Swiss knife and a brand-new shaving foam container, and confiscated both items; I should have known not to carry them in the carry-on. They also asked me to remove my shoes and belt.

Instead of the walk-through X-ray machine at the Vancouver airport, I stepped into a surround X-ray machine that showed all the metal inside me to security so the inspectors did not pat me down. That saved over fifteen minutes. The only uncomfortable feeling I had was my pants were sliding off without the belt; I had to pull them up every few minutes.

The two experiences made me consider whether the security procedure is the same at every airport. I would bet that it is a standard procedure, except that its administration was different: the security was sloppy in Ottawa.

Do not get me wrong; I understand the need for security, but how it is delivered seems to invade your privacy. The inspectors see your meds and toiletries, which I may not want to share with anyone. It also takes time, and I am nervous about having my wallet and passport on the conveyor belt for a considerable amount of time while they x-ray me.

Having gone through security, we walked into the waiting room, the next phase of air travel that often brings unpleasant surprises, such as an announcement of a delay on one of our flights on our return trip. The uncertainty and waiting can be frustrating, adding to my dislike of flying.

On arrival, we had to find the baggage claim area. For some reason, the baggage claim area was the farthest from the landing gates at both the Vancouver and Portland airports.

Reflecting on our recent experience of how long it takes to get to the airport, go through security, experience delayed departures, wait for baggage pickup at the destination, and then grab a cab to where we stay, I would rather drive for shorter trips. The convenience and control of driving often outweigh the hassles of flying unless it is a cross-country trip.

Exploring North Carolina: Vineyards, Memories, and Family

May 15, 2024

Sitting in the sun, shaded partly by an umbrella at Shelton’s vineyard in North Carolina, was hugely relaxing. Helping the relaxation was the Cabernet Sauvignon that we sipped. The food was average: pulled pork on an open sandwich base, or perhaps it was a pizza. I am not sure, but it tasted like pub food, appropriate in the setting.

Driving away from the lush meadows of the Yadkin Valley where Shelton’s grows its grapes, my thoughts turned towards the many times we visited North Carolina over the last few decades, and my memory lane took me back to the first time I drove to Chapel Hill, NC.

That was when the Dean of the Graduate School of City Planning welcomed me with an open smile; Jack Parker welcomed each planning student. His intimate reception touched me, and he generated a feeling that I’d succeed in my studies. It was a competitive program, but I have known no one who failed. The UNC Planning School admitted me for the January session; I applied to many other Ivy League schools, but UNC took me mid-year, and I accepted the offer, not waiting for the other schools to respond. But let me explain how I decided to attend planning school.

After graduating from the School of Architecture at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada, I worked with a small architectural firm in Vancouver. I lasted six months before getting bored with mundane designs of lobbies for high-rise buildings put up by developers. Another job with an even smaller firm was more interesting: designing a recreation center for a specific location in Vancouver. This project came about as a request for proposals for a competition our firm did not win.

After my brief experience with two architectural firms, I decided that I did not fit the mold of an architect. Architecture envisions plenty of attractive and well-appointed living spaces unavailable for most people worldwide. Architecture is irrelevant to people who have no choice but to tolerate less attractive environments. So, that was the impetus for me to search for a new field of endeavor. City planning appeared to be a related field, so I started applying to graduate planning schools in the fall, which is how I ended up in Chapel Hill in January.

When I arrived, I felt I was in paradise, experiencing southern hospitality and the positive energy generated by, and friendships made with, the planning students. Living at a campus-type university was another positive for me; UBC was a city university where moststudents lived off-campus. In contrast, campus life at UNC was rich with lectures and performances I could attend. For example, at the annual Jubilee Music Festival in the spring, I listened to Johnny Cash while sitting with thousands of students on the ground of the quadrangle. It was a memorable concert. 

Another primary reason North Carolina holds deep memories is that I spent considerable time with my future wife during our second year there. Although we met in Washington, DC, where we both had summer jobs, upon returning to UNC for our second year, we saw each other daily, starting with breakfast in thestudent dining room,Lenoir Hall, when it cost forty cents. And we spent many evenings talking late into the night at the Rathskeller, a student pub in Chapel Hill. We married at year’s end at the Anglican Church on the campus with family and all my classmates in attendance. The audience had a big laugh when the newlyweds left in the car with a colossal ruckus created by the rocks my friends put into the hubcaps of our vehicle.

A career launch and meeting my lifelong partner provide deep roots in North Carolina. But there is more to it. Our three children applied to US universities after finishing high school in Ontario. Although they did get into Canadian universities, they thought going to American schools would be more adventurous, perhaps influenced by their parent’s experience there. The upshot of their leaving Canada was that Tony and David attended UNC in Chapel Hill, while Megan graduated from Duke University in Durham.

They married after graduating from university; the two boys married North Carolina girls and settled in Charlotte and Durham. Further, Kathy’s brother, Huw, retired from Washington, DC to Winston-Salem, near where his wife had grown up. Our recent visits to North Carolina span from Charlotte to Winston-Salem to Durham, all of these locations along Interstate 40, within three hours of driving time.

Innumerable opportunities have existed to visit our children and their growing families in North Carolina, share a vacation, help them move, or see them. Over the years, I wore out several car tires along Interstate 81, driving from Ottawa to North Carolina. However, the visits have also provided opportunities to see the state and enjoy what it offers.

Huw and Judy introduced us to vineyards while driving around Wiinston-Salem. With the decay of the tobacco industry, growing grapes had taken over the rich agricultural soil. My attraction to visiting vineyards goes beyond sipping wines; they happen in areas with lush vegetation on rolling hills, with a lake and a fountain facing the tasting room.

Having visited Shelton’s vineyard, where the wine was tasty, but the food was not the best, we decided to visit Shadow Springs Vineyards with Huw and Judy on our last visit before returning to Ottawa. They do not have a restaurant, and since we do not sip wine without some food at lunchtime, we stopped at the Shiloh General Store in Hammondville to pick up a sandwich.

Amish people run the store, and the owner, Phil Graber, was on cash. I learned from him that the area has over fifty Amish families. Phil and his wife Mary established the store in the early 2000s and expanded it to over thirty-five hundred square feet. The store sells homemade products with fresh ingredients, such as pickled vegetables, dry soup mixes, Amish noodles, pretzels, and crackers.

They made a tasty sandwich for us. I found their order-taking fascinating. You choose on a piece of paper the type of bread, meat, spread, vegetables, and sides you want and place it in a window. Then, they prepare the sandwich and call your name. There was no limit on what you could ask for, and I thought, why not order pulled pork and chicken under meats? And low and behold, my sandwich had both meats!

Armed with our sandwich, we entered Shadow Springs’ tasting room. Judy selected a 2022 Seyval Blancand a2022 Chardonnay while we settled at a table on the lakefront, cranking up the umbrella to provide shade from the sun’s heat at midday. The chatty hostess in the tasting room described how Chuck Johnson, the owner, decided to retire from his corporate job to his home state and look for another career opportunity after missing too many of his son’s ball games. Chuck and his wife Mary went winetasting upon their return to NC and decided that winemaking might be an excellent opportunity for starting a new life. They looked at dozens of farms for sale until they found this piece of land with the proper orientation and soil qualities to make wine. They started making wine in 2005.

And we were not disappointed with their wines. We spent the two-hour lunch sipping wine in sunny weather, sitting outside with a huge fountain making a bubbling sound in the middle of the lake next to us. What a way to spend our last day in North Carolina before returning to Ottawa, where the trees were getting leafy.  

Family Spring Break Adventures in North Carolina

May 1, 2024

Our April spring break, a time for family and adventure, began at 5 p.m. on a Thursday in Ottawa. We embarked on a journey that would take us fifteen hours to North Carolina, with a stopover in Courtland, NY. This annual tradition of ours, filled with shared experiences, is one of many times we see our far-flung family annually.

The Red Roof Inn in Courtland had its own unique character. Despite the room being refurbished, there was no breakfast provided, not even a simple muffin or toast. This was a departure from the norm even in economy-priced hotels. However, this unexpected change had its benefits. It allowed us to start our day early, without any unnecessary morning delays.

Our spring break is also an excuse to leave Ottawa, which has snow and cold weather. Mind you, this year’s winter was the mildest in my memory, and getting away was not like escaping cabin fever; the first year we moved to Ottawa, the temperature never came above zero Fahrenheit in January, and going south in March was a treat.

Our first full day in North Carolina was filled with cultural and sporting activities. We attended a Jazz Musical Appreciation Adjudication event, where twenty-five high schools showcased their talent. Our granddaughter, Zinnia, plays the trombone with the Jazz Combo of the Jordan High School, her school participated in the event.

Millbrook High School, a magnet school in Raleigh hosted the event. I entered the building, and the music room immediately impressed me with all the electronic gear. Further in, a large, designed-for-acoustics auditorium sloped towards the stage where the bands played. I cannot recall this level of educational resources at the high schools our children attended.

Listening to the bands performing songs by Charlie Parker, Neal Hefti, Hoagy Carmicheal, and Bobby Timmons brought back memories of the music I listened to in the ’60s. Another classic one band played was Duke Ellington’s Satin Doll.

After the three songs Zinnia’s jazz combo played, it was time for the adjudicators to comment on their performance. In addition to an overview critique, they took the time to discuss the players’ techniques and delivery, offering valuable insights. One adjudicator, in particular, stood out. He had brought his trumpet along and demonstrated what some songs should sound like. The combo members listened intently and demonstrated their understanding by playing their instruments in the style recommended by the adjudicator.

We were in Raleigh for the event, although Dave lives in Durham; the entire area is part of what is called the Research Triangle Park (RTP) of North Carolina. It is interconnected by interstate highways 40 and 85. It boasts many well-known educational, recreational, and cultural facilities (such as Duke University, UNC, NC State University, Duke Gardens, and NC Botanical Garden). The area also boasts a professional hockey team, the Hurricanes, who play out of Raleigh, and top-notch college basketball teams – think of the perennial rival Duke and UNC teams.

A few decades ago, the RTP had a well-developed high-tech sector. Nortel was a significant employer in communications, along with Newbridge Networks, where I worked. I remember management telling us to be careful working on our computers on flights from Ottawa to Raleigh and not to reveal technical secrets should an employee of Nortel sit next to us. Those days, there were daily flights between Ottawa and Raleigh. Since then, Nortel has gone bankrupt, and Alcatel, the global communications company, bought up Newbridge.

My memories lingered until our grandson Zane, ten years of age, invited us to watch his ball team play in the afternoon. Preceding the game was a “slugfest” at Herndon Park. To participate in the slugfest, the boys on the ball team had to fundraise $200 each for the team, which entitled them to “hit” balls from a pitching machine a dozen times.

Curious parents wanted to know who I was and welcomed me enthusiastically, another body cheering for the boys. There might have been more family members enjoying the weather, the outdoors, and watching the slugfest than players. Everybody carried water bottles, and folding chairs sprang up to watch the boys slug it out. A highlight of the slugfest was picture-taking, with each player posing with a bat ready for action and team photos following.

A game followed the slugfest that unfortunately ended in a loss for our team. It did not matter for the cheering parents and siblings who kept up with loud encouragements of “good eye” and “you can do it.” One of the rules for this age group that I learned is that the umpire does not allow a new inning to start after an hour and forty-five minutes of play. I am not a baseball fan, but this rule is good because the rule limits the duration of the game. Although the parents were disappointed in the outcome, the boys were too tired to dwell on the loss and ended up with a smoothie.

Our activities in Durham were far from over. The next day, we stumbled upon the ‘American Tobacco Trail’ (ATT), a hidden gem in the city. Despite the drizzle, we were eager to experience this outdoor activity. The section of the ATT we walked on was a tree-lined corridor, where the tree canopy provided a cozy shelter from the rain. Our ball-player grandson, always full of energy, circled around us on roller skates while the rest of us enjoyed a leisurely walk. It was a delightful discovery, adding a new dimension to our trip.

The ATT is a rails-to-trails right-of-way for walkers, cyclists, and equestrians. The level and mostly straight twenty-two-mile trail has a ten-foot-wide paved surface. The trail’s history goes back to J.B. Duke, who founded the American Tobacco Company in 1890 and built railroads to serve tobacco facilities and plants in the area. The trucking industry superseded railroads, and the rail lines fell into disuse. 1980, the Triangle Rails to Trails Conservancy was formed to preserve the right-of-way for recreational uses. I found it a pretty trail, even in the rain.

Returning to Dave’s house, we changed out of our wet clothing and commented on the many attractions families can visit to enjoy the Research Triangle Park. It is not only the ATT that attracts walkers but also the North Carolina Botanical Gardens, situated next to the University of North Carolina campus, with lovely walking trails and endangered plant species on display. Our granddaughter Zinnia, familiar with the Gardens, guided us around the trails there. Families can also visit the Science Museum in Raleigh, where we took the grandchildren to see the Van Gogh traveling exhibit last year.

We met up with two of our granddaughters in Cary, located part way between Raleigh and Durham, for dinner; Caroline works in Raleigh and Mary Kate attends North Carolina State University in Raleigh.  While there we enjoyed the renovated center of Cary.   With young children, a visit to the park in the renovated center of Cary is a must; it has the most creative modern play structures I have ever seen. Although we spent only a few days in the Durham and Raleigh areas, the rich fabric of recreational and cultural facilities could keep a family busy for days.

Policy Born Out of Panic

April 26, 2024

It is astonishing how the federal and Ontario governments announced a fifteen billion dollar incentive to Honda to set up a car battery plant in Ontario yesterday while they encouraged the municipalities last week to eliminate the requirement for parking for multiple unit developments. So, the message is to make more cars but provide no parking! Let me describe what happened.

Camada’s three levels of government hastily introduced a cobbled together housing policy this month, a move that could have significant repercussions. Upon learning that our City Council, under pressure from senior government levels, is considering approving quadruplexes or four units on a residential lot and eliminating parking requirements for highrise or multiple-unit buildings, I couldn’t help but worry. These are just a couple of the many proposals aimed at addressing the severe housing shortage that has led to the emergence of tent cities in all metropolitan areas.

With all the recent announcements, the federal government promises to double housing starts for the next seven years from the current pace of 250,000 units per year, by pouring billions of dollars into municipal budgets, providing local city councils agree to change zoning codes, including the above two proposals.

While this could alleviate the housing shortage and provide more affordable housing options, it raises concerns about the quality of these new units and the impact on existing neighborhoods.

Yes, the recent surge in international migration created the housing shortage; statistics show that the Canadian fertility rate is way below the replacement rate, and the increase in population and the consequent surge in housing demand can be attributed directly and totally to immigration.

But wouldn’t it be more prudent for the federal government to address the demand for housing as well instead of focusing solely on the supply side? Would it not be faster and easier to restrict immigration in the short term than build housing that takes years to complete? A more balanced approach would be advisable in considering both supply and demand for housing.

A panic reaction is not a good incubator for developing thoughtful housing policy. For example, consider the proposal for building four housing units on a residential lot. A quarter-acre lot measures seventy by one hundred feet (excluding space for roads). Yes, one can build four units on such a lot; it could be two side by side units on the main level and the same upstairs, or one unit per floor in a four-storey building. It would be a dense development, especially considering the parking space for each unit.   But, oops! Are parking spots still required?

However, more recent developments have much smaller lot sizes; some are thirty-five by one hundred feet. To put four units in such a small lot would be a design challenge. And where would the parking be? On the neithborhood streets? As much as good public transit, which we do not have, may negate the need for cars, most individuals and families like to have a car to get around on weekends and at nights when public transit is sporadic at best.

In the suburbs, there are one-acre and larger lots where four units per residential lot are reasonably achievable, but would people desire it? They moved to the suburbs because they wanted bigger lots so why would they now build three additional units on their land? Not likely.

Although four units per residential lot is an attractive slogan, it behooves the government to specify what a “residential lot” means. For example, it would be helpful to identify a minimum lot size to utilize this concept fully.

While the first proposal for densification relates to the efficient use of an urban lot (four units on a lot), the second proposal to eliminate parking refers to cost; by not building garages, the government claims the cost savings would benefit renters/buyers. However, consider the potential impact of this idea on different demographic groups. For instance, families with children, the disabled or elderly individuals may still require parking spaces, and the lack of these amenities could disproportionately affect them.

Before believing government claims that eliminating parking spaces will reduce the cost to the buyer/renter, consider vacancy rates. With vacancy rates so low today that people immediately take up any vacant rental unit, why would developers not charge market rates even though their costs would be lower by not providing parking? And when people buy condominiums, they buy garage spaces in addition to the unit’s price. As a consequence, I do not see why multiple unit residential buildings with no parking would save money for renters/buyers.

To implement the no parking proposal, the City Council proposes to do away with the current policy of requiring parking as a ratio of the number of units in the building and let developers decide on the number of stalls provided based on market forces. While in some areas of the city, developers may choose to skimp on parking spaces, assuming that people could park on neighboring streets, it may not be the case downtown, where office towers dominate, and street parking is not available. I am concerned that not providing parking would exacerbate congestion on the streets and create a huge problem during the winter months when parking is prohibited on the streets for snow clearing.

What further concerns me and find astonishing is when I see that the two higher levels of government are actively pursuing car manufacturers to set up shop in Ontario.  They announced yesterday a multi-billion-dollar incentives package for Honda, after providing incentives for Volkswagen and Stellantis, last year. Is this not a huge contradiction: do not provide parking but encourage the manufacture of cars?

Quadruplexes on quarter-acre lots and highrise buildings without parking do not reflect what people want today; to me, it appears that governments are attempting to modify behavior to solve a housing shortage, without dealing with any of the basic issues that contributed to the problem – that is, an unprecedented increase in immigration levels, and the capacity of the country in both labor and supplies to accelerate any construction. Despite all good intentions and even beyond the questionable objectives of these ideas, the pace of housing construction cannot and will not double for the next few years due to the lack of skilled labor.

The Eclipse, April 8, 2:12 pm

April 12, 2024

Kathy said we should see the eclipse. She said:  It happens once in a lifetime; the next one will come in forty years. And it is fantastic! The news media estimated a million people would visit Niagara Falls to watch the eclipse; hotels tripled their room rates there. After reading about how to watch the eclipse, Kathy ordered appropriate sunglasses from Amazon, and the package also came with a cover for the camera lens.

Kathy also said that her friend invited us to view the eclipse from the deck of a cottage facing the St. Lawrence River in Brockville, Ontario, where it was supposed to be 100% covered. That sounded too good to pass up until Kathy received a phone call from her friend disinviting us; apparently, not all the details of our visit met the cottage owner’s approval. Kathy was a little annoyed that her friend did not discuss alternative locations where we could meet.

So now, I wondered, why should we leave Ottawa and go elsewhere to view the eclipse since we would see 98.8 percent of the sun covered by the moon in Ottawa? In Brockville, I read that the coverage will be one hundred percent. OK. Does that make a huge difference? I doubt it, but I said let’s go and drive south towards Brockville, searching for an attractive venue for viewing. 

 The news media projected massive traffic for April 8, with people trying to drive to be under the eclipse’s pathalong the St. Lawrence River. To avoid traffic, we chose to go south on a secondary road, Highway 15, towards Brockville. We decided to make an outing to get there early “to avoid” the traffic.  So, we brought along a picnic.For the picnic, I bought some black forest ham, Swiss cheese, sourdough bread, and a bottle of wine (Ventoux, a French rose from 2022). 

On our drive south, we first checked out the parking lot at the Crosby fleamarket. It is a gravelly lot with no attractive landscaping surrounding it, so we drove further south and stopped at the parking lot at the entrance to the Cataraqui Trail, a rail-to-trail path where there was lots of open space to see the sun. There were already two other cars on this sunny and balmy day; the temperature was 15 degrees Centigrade (60 degrees Fahrenheit).

Mothers with children disgorged from one of the cars and started walking along the Trail. They were from Ottawa and told us that the Ottawa school board had let the children off on April 8 to view the eclipse. The people from the other car had just returned from walking the Trail and reminded us to wear our eclipse-viewingsunglasses.

A box from Costco was our table, and a beach chair and a folding bridge chair provided seating forour picnic lunch. Sitting on the beach chair, as I was opening the wine and getting ready to enjoy my lunch, Kathy motioned to me with bad news. She pointed to two nails in the back tire next to where she sat. I looked over and thought, what a downer on a marvelous sunny day, looking for the eclipse. I said we’d be lucky to drive back to Ottawa without the tire deflating, to which Kathy replied: do not take the nails out, orthe tire will deflate!

While enjoying my lunch, I thought about changing the tire with the spare in the car. So, after finishing lunch and worrying about what to do with the tire, I looked at changing the tire.  I lay down on my back, looking for the spot under the car where the jack would go. As I slithered towards the back of the car on my back, where the tire with the nail was, I noticed that the head did not look like a standard nail-head, and as I touched it, it just fell off the tire! It was some dried-out grass clump wedged between the grooves of the tire!  With the problem resolved, it was time for another glass of wine.  

Relieved by not having to change tires, fortified by a glass of wine, an hour to go before the eclipse,we decided to walk on the Cataraqui Trail. It is flat and straight, with swamps on both sides. The birds and frogs made a racket that was pleasant to the ears. A half-hour later, and with gathering clouds, we thought the better part of prudence was to turn around and return to the car, especially with the darkening clouds.

Suddenly, it became dark, and I told Kathy we had better rush back to the car; it looked like it was going to storm. In our rush back on the trail, we noticed the sun becoming dark and realized that this was the eclipse coming on! We grabbed our sunglasses, and I put the screen on the camera lens to take some pictures. At the same time, the frogs and birds became quiet, and an eerie silence descended on us. I kept shooting. I did not get a classic image of the eclipse with the moon fully covering the sun; taking photos through the unique lens was a challenge, but I got some decent shots.

As the eclipse passed over us, the sky lightened up again. We walked back to pack our picnic gear, listening to the birds and frogs, who seemed to come back to life as soon as the sky lit up. The sun was shining brightly when we got back to the car. A phone message awaited us from Kathy’s friend about the excellent view she had of the eclipse from the cemetery in Brockville. Our location was probably better because we shared our experience with birds and frogs rather than the souls of dead people.