Sunday was the last day of my relative's visit. At sunrise, we walked around South Riverdale since neither one of us were likely to ever come back here. It was a more enjoyable stroll for them than the suburban vista of Ottawa since all the houses and streets were different: seaside cottage, hilly frontyard, narrow walkways. Industrial Wagstaff Drive, which at first looked sketchy, charmed them with its mural and micro-brewery. Similarly, the at-first-glance "scary" Woodfield St. pedestrian tunnel led to pleasant Monarch Park.
I had planned on introducing them to several restaurants such as Maru and Pasaj. But we ended up doing mostly take-outs because it was more convenient. We did visit Island Oysters and for lunch today, Udupi Palace for their first taste of dosas. Yet with quotidian activities, they now appreciated the ease of city living. With visits from years ago, we did big stuff like going to see Kinky Boots. So they didn't get a sense of daily life in Toronto.
On my return after dropping them off at the Island Airport, I thought about a different time-line where we all lived here. And perhaps on this other temporal track, neighbourhoods like East Chinatown was still thriving. There are reminders that it used to extend from Broadview to Greenwood and not limited to a few blocks. It's not the only area (see also The Ossington Strip and Roncesvalles) where cachet and trendiness didn't accrue until mainstream, white folks set up shop (and reaped the financial rewards). But stores like Ba Noi, La La Land, and Rustle and Still show that businesses can evolve (i.e., become "hipper") yet remain POC-owned.
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