My time in Toronto began in a unique way: living on the island.
I arrived in the city a few days before starting my summer job only to find the island flooded, sandbagged and devoid of tourists. I wasn't complaining. Toronto is big and loud, and the island felt like a different world. For a small-town girl who spent four years adjusting to Ottawa, the unusual reprieve – granted by a family friend – was very welcome.
The island has a completely different atmosphere from the city, and as a result doesn't quite feel as if it is a part of Toronto. For starters, much of Toronto is awake and moving well before 6 a.m., at least during the week, but the ferry (by far the most inconvenient part of island life) doesn't even begin running until 6:45 a.m. This made the upcoming 6 a.m. shifts at The Globe and Mail seem like an impossibility at first; I wasn't going to take a water taxi every morning.
The Ward’s Island ferry comes in to dock.
As a way around this, I turned to Airbnb and house-sitting. What felt like a necessity and inconvenience at first ended up offering me a much better introduction to Toronto than I expected.
A one-night stay at a house in Greektown was my first foray into using Airbnb. Here, I realized one big difference between Ottawa and Toronto: Ottawa's just not big enough for this kind of thing, other than a small Chinatown and Little Italy. As one of many cultural pockets (such as Chinatown or Little Portugal), Greektown is a hallmark of Toronto's size and diversity and the opportunities for communities to form.
My host told me the Danforth, as the area is also known, is "up-and-coming." This may have been true when she bought her house, but it seems as if Greektown is past that now. More and more young professionals have moved there and prices reflect the area's popularity. It's lovely, but not affordable.
The Greektown arch on Danforth Avenue.
If the Danforth is one of Toronto's new "It" neighbourhoods, Kensington Market is its aging rock star – albeit one that still tours constantly. Every piece of Toronto advice I've received involves Kensington, and for one week I stayed in an Airbnb just south of the neighbourhood.
As I walked home in the evening, Kensington and Queen Street intrigued me. There are people everywhere, tripping in and out of bars, jaywalking and window-shopping. It's colourful and chaotic, but also laid-back. I found myself wanting to stay outside and walk around, looking for nothing in particular. Inside my small bedroom, I felt as if I was missing out – even on a Tuesday. That's the charm of this area, at least for me.
Buskers plying their trade on Baldwin Street in Kensington Market.
But in the morning, I felt as if I had woken up somewhere else. That Wednesday, an early-morning encounter with a creepy truck driver left me feeling less rosy about Kensington. Maybe this is the trade-off when you live in the core of a city – there's more to discover, but also more to be wary of.
Still new to the Airbnb app, I booked my Kensington room for one night too few and had to scramble to find a place within my budget for that Friday night. I ended up in transit for an hour and a half, on my way to Scarborough.
Oddly enough, Scarborough reminded me of home. Where I come from, in rural British Columbia, everything is far away. The part of Scarborough where I stayed near Midland Avenue and Huntingwood Drive is clean and quiet and safe, but it also reminds me of why I like living near the heart of a city. I might not be cut out for Kensington Market, but between the isolation and the commute, I'm not a fan of the suburbs either.
The corner of Midland Avenue and Huntingwood Drive in Scarborough.
My next stay was a happy medium between the two. North York feels like a calmer version of Toronto. The subway arrives next to a shopping centre near Yonge Street and Empress Avenue, the entrance to the station striped with small businesses. Just off the street, there are houses and elementary schools. It's like a small city unto itself, spread-out similar to Scarborough, but closer to the centre of Toronto.
The bus every morning was packed with people. It seems as if every person I've encountered in Toronto has a story about commuting, whether it's about the money they save by travelling in the morning, or the friend they have who pays through the nose to live downtown.
Toronto is all about these trade-offs: You move here for a job, but can't afford to live near it. Or you stay for the entertainment, but can't save because you're paying for location.
An example of the disparity in architectural scale and styles of housing in North York.
I wonder what my trade-off would be if I came back to Toronto for good. I think back to my night in Scarborough and know the distance would weigh me down. Why move to a city, only to live so far from the reasons you moved?
My worries were answered at the corner of Ossington Avenue and Bloor Street, where a McDonald's and a church eye each other warily from across the street. For two weeks, I'm house-sitting next to the Ossington subway station.
Though the official name for this area is Bloorcourt, I haven't heard anyone call it that. This place doesn't have a name. The odd balance of hip cafes and bars, diverse small businesses and cardboard-covered windows tells me things are changing, but slowly. East of Ossington Avenue, more trendy bars abound, and they're quickly spreading further west.
Saving Gigi coffee shop, top, and a painted mural, bottom, both on Bloor Street.
The prices reflect that. Rent isn't as expensive as it could be, considering I can walk to my apartment from Yorkville in 40 minutes. The houses are old, but sweet. The cafes are ubiquitous and the businesses are (mostly) small. And the people are friendly, something that warms my small-town heart. When I stop at Canada Post to send a package, the woman there talks to me for 20 minutes. The gist: She's glad she moved to Toronto, and she thinks I will be too.
I agree with her. After a summer of moving around the city I feel as if Toronto is no longer an intimidating blank space in my future.
The irony is that I began my summer on the island, a place that doesn't lend itself well to getting to know the city. I rediscover the island community periodically, often leaving Toronto behind with relief after a long day in the bustling city. But I'm also thankful for the early shifts that took me across the city this summer, showing me some of the moving parts that make Toronto what it is.
It took living in Toronto's misunderstood little paradise for me to really understand this city.