Do you have a steady, dependable, perhaps even a bit too predictable circuit? Or are you the type who likes to mix it up? Perhaps you reverse your morning walk or run (supposedly it’s good for your brain), or just venture out and see where the next 45 minutes take you? When I’m up in St Moritz, there’s a circuit around the lake and if I feel like extending things by 20 minutes I can hang a left into the forest, take in another lake and then pick up the usual path.
In Zürich, it’s down to the lake, along the shore, up into the forest, back down through the village for a coffee and then another kilometre back to the apartment. It took a while to establish the right route in Lisbon but thankfully we’re in a flat stretch of the city and Campo Grande, with the occasional spin around Alvalade, does the trick. If you digested our June issue, you’ll know that coffee is an important morning motivator and the maker of neighbourhoods. On Friday, I flew to Toronto and, first thing on Saturday morning, it was over the bridge at Old Mill, up through Baby Point and along Annette Street to the Organic Press Café for a very good flat white and a little perch in the sun. Right after, I managed to secure a walk-in spot at The Baby Point Barbershop for a speedy beard trim, made my way down to Bloor Street to pick up the weekend newspapers (Lachlan, Rupert, you need to start doing a Europe print run of The Wall Street Journal’s weekend edition please!) and then back to mom’s.
As circuits go, the Toronto version is the most interesting – in part because it overlaps with my old walk to school and in part because it has the most range. Through Baby Point it’s all manicured lawns and elegant homes, along Bloor Street it’s a jumble of retail and Ukrainian banks, and back towards mom’s everything carries a familiar name – Brûlé Gardens, Brûlé Terrace, Étienne Brûlé Park. And remarkably, so far none renamed or cancelled.
Two hours later, we embarked on a circuit of a different kind. After years of promised visits and aborted plans, a sturdy Cessna Caravan bounced us down a runway at Billy Bishop Toronto City Airport en route The Ojibway Club at Pointe au Baril. After a sharp left turn around the towers of downtown Toronto, pilots Joel and Conor (combined age 45) made a straight line for Georgian Bay. Around 50 minutes later, the boys delicately put the Caravan down in front of the club and shortly after we were tying up and exchanging greetings with our hostess for the weekend.
In another column I will tell you all about my 40-year friendship with Christine but today I’ll just say that she (and her full family, bonkers hounds included) hosted us for what is likely to be the best 36 hours of the year. The setting (very Swedish), the architecture, the crowd (WASPy old Toronto), the boat trips and the endless summer eve was about as good as life gets under the Canadian flags fluttering across the archipelago. The next day our circuit was southbound back to downtown Toronto, dinner at the tasty Taberna LX and then back across the Atlantic with mom for the official start of the summer season here at our bathing club in Zürich. Not quite The Ojibway Club but a similar food group.
Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at our summer party in Merano.
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