Household happenings have taken a noticeable toll on me as of late. In place of seasonal social outings are grocery runs, and in place of cheerful, dazzling decor clutter. There is no tree this year, nor lights, but merely a low-commitment wreath on the front of our door.
Following a thoroughly exhaustive seven-hour baking-and-clean-up session (plus two hours of cardio afterwards), I somehow managed to muster up energy for the first proper hangout of the month.
Following a thoroughly exhaustive seven-hour baking-and-clean-up session (plus two hours of cardio afterwards), I somehow managed to muster up energy for the first proper hangout of the month.
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Alas, my day would commence quite early, for I had been keen to complete some chores/errands beforehand. The recycling centre was empty, making for a swift drop-off procedure. One could safely assume most residents were gearing up for holiday festivities at home.
I'd then pick up my adventuring partner for the day and set off to Vaughan. Traffic levels were, again, impressively smooth for a late Sunday morning. In just thirty minutes, we pulled into the asphalt lot of IKEA. Already evident in the surface lot volumes was the staggering difference in customer volumes compared to usual.
I'd then pick up my adventuring partner for the day and set off to Vaughan. Traffic levels were, again, impressively smooth for a late Sunday morning. In just thirty minutes, we pulled into the asphalt lot of IKEA. Already evident in the surface lot volumes was the staggering difference in customer volumes compared to usual.
There hadn't been an ounce of information provided to my partner-in-crime in advance of the outing, yet I appreciated tremendously how she did not question my every move. Having only merely confirmed whether any specific gear was required, any and all happenings were welcome - even errand-running with me.
Given the outing's start time of 11 AM, lunch assumed an ambiguous slot. In consideration of relatively low hunger levels and pending schedule activities, we each settled upon a Kids' Size Strawberry Frozen Treat to tie us over until the next opportunity for sustenance. The soft serve was wonderfully fruity and refreshing, and a generous portion for its $1.50 price tag as well.
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We snagged some Gingersnap samples on our way out, then zipped over to the York U grounds. Once again, there was, amazingly, no traffic whatsoever!
Black Creek Pioneer Village would assume the primary destination of the day.
Black Creek Pioneer Village would assume the primary destination of the day.
Leading up to the weekend, I had reviewed two separate opportunities to visit the historic site:
1) TPL Map Pass
Through the Toronto Public Library's arts and culture program, up to four people (including the library card holder) could make a date-specific reservation. However, the pass did not cover parking fees and special event access.
2) Credit Valley Conservation (CVC) Pass
Obtained through the Mississauga Library system, the CVC pass not only enabled admission to the Village grounds, but complimentary parking for one vehicle as well. Moreover, passholders were not required to make advance reservations, which provided greater flexibility in terms of holiday plans. Special event access, such as workshops or photos with Santa, were not included, but there was no explicitly stated limit on the number of attendees using one pass.
In all, being the bearer of a Mississauga Library Card was concluded to be far more powerful than a TPL card.
1) TPL Map Pass
Through the Toronto Public Library's arts and culture program, up to four people (including the library card holder) could make a date-specific reservation. However, the pass did not cover parking fees and special event access.
2) Credit Valley Conservation (CVC) Pass
Obtained through the Mississauga Library system, the CVC pass not only enabled admission to the Village grounds, but complimentary parking for one vehicle as well. Moreover, passholders were not required to make advance reservations, which provided greater flexibility in terms of holiday plans. Special event access, such as workshops or photos with Santa, were not included, but there was no explicitly stated limit on the number of attendees using one pass.
In all, being the bearer of a Mississauga Library Card was concluded to be far more powerful than a TPL card.
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The access point for Black Creek Pioneer Village was a tad tricky to navigate, given its usage of York University's narrow internal roads. Once on the site, however, clear signage was observed for one-way paths, drop-off loops, school bus-dedicated areas, and passenger vehicles. To enter the parking area, one would take a ticket from the Precise ParkLink machine, then validate it inside the Visitor Booth with presentation of the CVC pass.
Contrary to my burning apprehensions, the facility provided plenty of on-site indoor plumbing facilities. In fact, the locations were identified on a sturdy, colourful map for convenience of navigation. The map would also identify the various attractions within the Village by number and name.
We reviewed the list briefly, then gladly took to complimentary hot chocolate (albeit a diluted version) and gingersnap cookies before bracing ourselves for entry into the negative double-digits.
We reviewed the list briefly, then gladly took to complimentary hot chocolate (albeit a diluted version) and gingersnap cookies before bracing ourselves for entry into the negative double-digits.
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View the full album HERE !
Frankly, I hadn't been exactly certain of the experience the visit would entail. Only upon stepping foot onto the Maple Avenue that I gradually learned: Black Creek Pioneer Village was, essentially, a small town (or "village") intended to replicate those of the past. The buildings spanned barns, homes, doctor's offices, flour mills, and more - each house providing a fully interactive experience for adults and children alike.
With the fresh, thin layer of snowfall, the experience was truly reflective of a stroll through a BIA district, but with emphasis on history and education rather than retail and commercialism.
In the town square was an outdoor performance area, complete with a stage and tables (and restrooms!). Directly across was the Town Hall, where tables had been set up to facilitate kids' activities such as making wooden toys and writing letters to Santa.
In the town square was an outdoor performance area, complete with a stage and tables (and restrooms!). Directly across was the Town Hall, where tables had been set up to facilitate kids' activities such as making wooden toys and writing letters to Santa.
As we continued our journey into the vast array of houses, we discovered displays of Hanukkah fare, pioneer-era wheelchairs, wood fireplaces, and more.
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A handful of gardens were also present, making for the discovery of petal-less sunflower stalks and resilient kale shrubs.
The Half Way House was the most notable feature in the Village. On the ground floor of the two-storey house were a sizable dining room featuring customary holiday fare of the past (such as mince meat pies and Jell-O desserts), a living room in which story-telling was taking place, and a kitchen towards the back. Queue management was nonexistent, as visitors followed the buttery aromas from two points of access without adhering to a single-file system.
We likely resided in this room for the longest duration, patiently waiting our turn for freshly-baked bread and cookies fired by a pioneer oven. The sheer functional status of this apparatus was impressive, let alone the recipes that were formulated to be realized within it.
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Vanilla, lemon, and cinnamon cookies were priced at just a loonie each, which square loaves of white bread rang in at five dollars. When our turn finally arrived, I handed six dollars over to the lady singlehandedly manning the station. Her work was undoubtedly remarkable.
There are fewer things in life more gratifying than sampling fresh bread. My partner-in-crime excitedly tugged away at the loaf, while I munched on a perfectly smooth lemon-tinged round with glee.
The second storey of the house comprised of several bedrooms, each filled with wooden furniture reflective of the intended user. Some rooms featured beds with canopies, while others cribs, rocking horses, and tiny chairs. Their simplicity was stunning, though the painting choices somewhat eerie.
On the basement were bathrooms and a brewery, which was not in operation during our time of visit.
On the basement were bathrooms and a brewery, which was not in operation during our time of visit.
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Navigating along Mill Street, we entered into Dickson Hill's School. From the coat room to the desks with drawers, I was brought back to my own elementary school years; the interior was indeed indicative of an environment for discipline and learning.
Past two breathtaking frozen ponds were Roblin's Mill and Fisherville Church. The former boasted tall, heavy equipment that spanned two floors; a miniature replica of the gear system was made available for on the ground floor for tactile stimulation. While the upper level of the mill had been boarded off, its basement had been preserved spectacularly, and visitors were allowed to browse at their leisure.
While not all fixtures on the property were open for exploration, the experience was extremely intriguing nevertheless. There was absolutely no shortage of educational entertainment, nor snacks: candied orange peel was provided within the Richmond Hill Manse as part of pioneer Christmas traditions.
It later dawned on us that the Village had not been organically laid out in the manner which we were exploring, but rather assembled from houses throughout Ontario. These buildings, ranging from blacksmiths to post offices to tin shops, had apparently been moved intact from Woodbridge, Scarborough, and beyond, consequently forming the historic site.
I had initially likened the Pioneer Village to a larger scale rendition of the Bradley Museum in Mississauga. Despite evoking a similar aura, Black Creek was undeniably more expansive and comprehensive in terms of informative content. The destination included an abundance of learning opportunities, along with plenty of channels for scavenger hunts, making for the ideal field trip location for children to witness life of the past.
By the two-hour mark, we began to feel the frigidity. Our stays became progressively shorter, as re-entering the chilly outdoors became more dreadful each time.
Our last stop was the Tinsmith Shop, where we were told of the origins of aluminum tart shells and cookie cutters. Unthinkable was the manner by which cookie cutters were formed over pegs in a wooden block. The lady gestured to the block closest to us, asking us to guess the output shape based on the peg holes. Much to our surprise, the design was a maple leaf; tin-forming was truly a test of visualization.
Our last stop was the Tinsmith Shop, where we were told of the origins of aluminum tart shells and cookie cutters. Unthinkable was the manner by which cookie cutters were formed over pegs in a wooden block. The lady gestured to the block closest to us, asking us to guess the output shape based on the peg holes. Much to our surprise, the design was a maple leaf; tin-forming was truly a test of visualization.
The McNair Gallery depicted pop culture-esque elements and a mini library/reading nook. Meanwhile, the Gift Shop housed everything from crochet plants, plushies, maple candies, to Indigenous artwork.
Read Part 2 HERE !
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