Ottawa is a beautiful city—very much like Portland, we thought, what with the outdoor markets and bike-oriented citizenry and small-town charm in a big city. Also, everybody has terrific accents. We took high tea at the residence of the late Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King and strolled around the beautiful grounds in the Parc de la Gatineau in Québec. The man was crazy: he decided to have fake ruins installed on the grounds because he thought they looked cool, apparently. Then we camped outside Ottawa for the night, where we successfully made stir-fry and fire—truly, we distinguished ourselves from the apes over and over again.
(As usual: All photos available here. There were over 50 added today again. Enjoy.)
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In the morning, we went into town and observed the changing of the guard ritual on Parliament Hill. Essentially, over the course of half an hour about fifty people in bright red uniforms with shiny brass buttons and intimidating weaponry bark orders at one another and march around a big grass field. The ceremony involves music, marching, inspection of weapons, “exchange of compliments” between the commanders of the old and new guard units, and more music and more marching.
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(I am mentally composing an angry letter to the Queen about how ridiculous the music selection was—half of it felt appropriately military, but the other half was bizarre and Disneylandish; not a very good feeling to try to evoke when you’re working with full brass band and a bunch of bagpipes. Seriously, it felt like they were going to start breaking into a show-stopping song and dance number at any moment. Also, they played the Wedding March from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro for quite some time, and not enough of good old standards like The Maple Leaf Forever. I don’t know what was up with that.)
After an excellent lunch and walk through the town and the outdoor markets, we took the tour of the Parliament building, which needless to say was terrific. We got to see the very spot upon which Stephen Harper and Stéphane Dion traditionally yell at one another Mondays through Thursdays at about 2:15 pm. The Parliament buildings are full of terrific artwork and symbolism. I also proved myself an insufferable asshole by answering all the tour guide’s semi-rhetorical questions because nobody else on the tour appeared to (a) know and (b) speak English anyway. So she was all like, “Does anyone know what the first four provinces to enter Confederation were?” and everyone had one of those “party silences” until I shattered the mood with the correct answer (Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Québec, and Ontario, if you had to know). I also bought a coffee mug with the coat of arms of Canada to complement my coffee mug from the U.S. Congress with the First Amendment on it.
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Next stop: Toronto.
