We left Quebec at 07:45 Sunday, 14 October, and rode to Montreal where a brief layover allowed us to explore the station. Rather than confused West Coasters, we were now seasoned travel veterans (again).
The downtown location and the variety of VIA and local rail transit traffic makes the station a busy place, with crowds detraining and rushing off to the street, another VIA or commuter train, or the subway. In between, the station appears almost empty and then the next train arrives.
A short wait, and we boarded a VIA Corridor train to Ottawa.
We got off to a bad start. Exiting the taxi at the Ottawa hostel, I left the small backpack containing the laptop along with several other items on the back seat floor. When we realized the pack’s absence, the taxi was long gone.
The hostel desk clerk made a few quick calls and informed us we had ridden a Blue Line Taxi (we had no idea). I began calling the Lost and Found at Blue Line, leaving messages and phone numbers and receiving no response. Calling again the next morning with still no response, we decided to use the good day for the Ottawa Tourist (capital) volkswalk and wait for word.
Pat remained hopeful and I unhooked from the lost laptop, deciding how to go ahead about the computer, and focused on getting our walk in. We made several calls to the credit card people to alert them and ask for their best advice.
We were nearing the end of the walk with about 2 kilometers to go when my phone rang and--surprise--it was our taxi driver. We agreed to meet outside D’Arcy McGee’s Irish Pub to receive the pack and to pay him the fare for delivering it. The fare amounted to $40.00 and Pat added a $20.00 tip. I refrained from asking any questions. I opened the bag to make sure everything was there (and searched the computer when we returned to our room to check on any snooping activity).
Near a full 24 hours had elapsed before we heard from the driver. Actually, a less gamey approach (the long silence) would have left a better taste and we would naturally have rewarded the driver, probably more. We paid the ransom and life goes on. Pat later wrote a critical letter to the company about the game and the lack of any response from Lost and Found.
Other taxi services we used told us it’s best to put everything in the trunk. Take an item into the seat with you and you’re fair game. I didn’t know that.
We still found time to enjoy Ottawa, returning to the federal parliament building after dark to watch the police presence, the shuttles carrying MPs to and from, and other visitors roaming the grounds.
The Marché By Ward Market is another of the great Canadian farmers’ markets. Housed in a large market building, one of a series going back to 1827, it is the oldest continuously operating market in Canada. Despite the windy and sporadically rainy weather, the streets outside the market building were lined with vendors’ tents of baked goods, crafts, vegetables and fruit, meats, and cheese.
One of the things we enjoy is to go to markets such as this to wander among the vendors as they are setting up and preparing for the day. Once again, French was a common language in both the market and several surrounding shops offering patés and sausages.
In February, 2009, President Obama made a stop at the market’s Le Moulin de Provence bakery to buy cookies. The bakery continues to celebrate the event with the Obama Cookie. No, we didn’t take the Parliament tour, we went to ByWard Market. We, after all, know how to find the meaning of life.
Hosteling International youth hostels have found some fascinating sites. In Ottawa, the old City Jail was converted to a hostel in the 1970s. Built in 1862, the building’s brick design and iron gates and bars figure prominently in the hostel experience. Staff told us some hostelers react badly to trying to sleep behind bars. The cell blocks (now dorm rooms) are claustrophobic, something I felt just wandering through and taking photographs.
The top floor, the jail’s death row, hosted executions, the last occurring in 1946. Regular tours are conducted by the city and not a few ghosts have appeared. The most common is Patrick Whelan, executed on 11 February, 1869 for the assassination of Thomas D’Arcy McGee. Remember that it was McGee’s Irish Pub where we received the return of our pack and laptop, and proceeded to have a fine meal.
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