In which Layla and Roz indulge in a tasting menu, sample some delicious cocktails and give the fringe festival the benefit of the doubt

by Layla

When Roz returned from yoga we decided to enjoy the temporary delight of having a big apartment with outside space and lounged, reading our books and watching the last bit of Fingersmith, before heading out to lunch at Cafe Seven, at Bloor and Yonge. Thereafter we strolled to Church Street, the gay part of town. So officially gay, in fact, that all the official street signs had rainbows on them. We pottered past rainbow flags galore, then crossed to Yonge Street where we decided to sample some shopping, Toronto style. Alas the Eaton Centre was rather unpleasant, busy, and sporting rubbish shops, so we eventually fled and spent the rest of the afternoon back on the balcony with our books, feeling so serene that it was impossible to believe our holiday might soon be over.

That evening we headed out for our most extravagant meal - a seven-course tasting menu at the George. And it was excellent. I had seven courses and Roz had a different seven, so by sharing, it was almost like a 14 course menu, and probably one of the best we've had (outside of Noma, of course!). Really interesting flavours, great textures, and imaginative concoctions. Nice. It took quite a while and we didn't get home til almost midnight.

The next day we had to pack up and clean a little in preparation for handing our apartment keys back to their rightful owners. Leaving our luggage there, we left with determination to be cheery, and headed down to the harbourfront, to visit the Toronto Music Garden, which is a special garden designed by Yo Yo Ma to show music in botanical form. As neither of us understand much about music, some of this may have been too esoteric, but it was a pretty garden. We wandered on along the waterfront until we stopped for a quick drink in a waterside pub and raindrops slowly started to fall. We'd intended to get the ferry back out to the Toronto Islands and rent a rowboat, but the sky remained cryptic and we couldn't decide if we had the nerve to get the ferry to an island with essentially nowhere to hide if it starts to rain. The ferry queues were huge with optimists, but after some deliberation, we decided to flee, and had a tasty lunch of vegetable and cheese wraps and salad in a harbourfront cafe.

After lunch we popped into the Power Plant art gallery, in the Harbourfront Centre, initially with the intention of hearing an artist talk. Though it turned out it was more of an exhibition tour, and after a quick wander around, we didn't feel the need to hear much more about the art, so we made a run for it, to a streetcar heading north on Spadina Avenue, destination Vladimir Theatre (aka a Ukrainian halls of residence next to the University of Toronto, and erstwhile Fringe venue), to see A Different Woman, a one-woman show about a Texan childhood. This play turned out to be marginally better than the other that we saw, but was essentially an overacted recounting of a misery memoir. For ninety minutes. In a hall so freezing with air conditioning that the ushers offered to rent us shawls and sweaters for $2, and we actually invested! But it was quite fun and good to see another Fringe event.

After that we went for final cocktails and a plate of chips at a cool little cocktail bar in Queen Street West called something beginning with Cz... We sat in the sun in their patio and tried not to know that we were about to return to the apartment, pick up our luggage and catch a taxi to the airport, for the plane back to London... A really nice holiday.