Out & About #1110 | ROM + Toronto Islands

Despite entering the long weekend with the burden of the work week on my shoulders, I decided to set aside my exhaustion for just one day in order to fulfill a series of time-sensitive activities. As made evident on this space, I am not one to wait for opportunities to come knocking on my door, but rather one to create and maximize them as seen fit.

​When we had visited the ROM earlier in the year, my browsing partner had expressed annoyance to only being able to explore for a brief period. Between my guaranteed 4 PM departure at the old office and the museum's closing time of 5:30 PM, we had only succeeded in viewing my picks of Nature in Brilliant Colour plus a quick trip through the Wildlife Photographer of the Year.
"I wanted to see Auschwitz." My browsing partner had expressed.
Scrunching my nose in response, I replied, "Why? It looks boring."
"I heard good things about it."

​Of course, I wasn't convinced, but I didn't mind enabling that visit either, especially seeing that the Auschwitz exhibit was due for rotation on September 1st.
Although the TPL map pass only permitted one visit per attraction per year, the comparatively powerful Mississauga library card enabled each cardholder to borrow two passes for the span of one week, with each pass permitting up to 4 adult admissions. Best of all, there was no annual limit on the number of borrows; I could return in the fall or winter to view new exhibitions should I desire.

​Travel time into the city approximated fifty minutes. After parking in Yorkville, we made our way over to the ROM. Much to our shock, a queue had already began to form at the early hour of 10:30 AM. The crowds of visitors came as a staggering surprise. Most were families with elderly and young children, which made for a tedious screening process at the security check point. Single file screening across three metal detectors placed in close proximity to the entrance resulted in a chaotic scene, with overflow awkwardly residing in the vestibule between the double doors. This was a poorly organized scene for those with accessibility needs, as the doors could not remain open while the lineup persisted.

The complimentary ROM pass enabled access to special exhibits "subject to capacity", thus it was a good decision to arrive early. A member of uniformed staff at the ticketing booth informed us that the displaying the pass and corresponding library card was sufficient for access to all exhibits except Auschwitz, which required a separate ticket to be issued for entry count control.

​Weaving through the morning crowds, we climbed the stairs to the fourth floor and began our first planned activity of the day. Audio guides were offered to enhance the visiting experience, though I was the furthest from a fan of public equipment.

​Auschwitz spanned two rooms, mostly dim with harsh, overhead lighting and solid-coloured walls to exude an atmosphere of solemnness. Each audio track was numbered; a total of 30 tracks covered three phases: Before Auschwitz, (During) Auschwitz, and After Auschwitz.

​Having donned contacts for the day, reading the descriptions accompanying each artifact without sufficient illumination posed quite the difficulty. The rooms were serene, as one would expect from visitors tuned into headsets. By incorporating an audio guide into the exhibit, the museum had subconsciously steered human behaviour in a manner than emphasized the severity of the Holocaust. Should the curated sequence be too grim, too graphic, and too detailed for one to handle, rooms of respite were positioned at the start and midway point of the exhibit.

​While my browsing partner was unbothered by the graphic scenes and inhumane stories lining the asymmetric walls, I felt my heart sink and mind feel perturbed.
"Didn't you take history class?"
"I did!" I countered with indignance. "But it was never this detailed." I also admit to majority of my non-STEM elementary and middle school teachings to have escaped me.

​Embroiled in the stresses of modern day society, constant are my complaints towards a lack of progressive mindsets and unconscious biases preventing inclusion and cultural acceptance. But the Holocaust depicted in the scenes before me were beyond fathomable and far, far worse in comparison. It was daunting to think that these happenings were so recent - lasting until the 1940s.

​The tales of Auschwitz painted a nauseating start to the day. By the halfway point, I was equally sleepy as I was perturbed. Dryness in the eyes helped not my case.

​We visited the Gallery of Gems and Gold afterwards, as per my browsing partner's request. This room was lively with the sounds of children; it also boasted a handful of touchscreens in an attempt to illustrate the life cycle of gems and stones after mining.

​While the scene served to relieve the heaviness of Auschwitz, it did not constitute an exhibit I'd categorize as life-changing.

​We did quick rounds through the corridors of animals and armour before making a timely departure at 12:33 PM.

Reassured I was to be on schedule for once!​

There were two candidates for lunch: Amal in Yorkville or Okonomi House near hospital/U of T grounds.
I hadn't even mentioned the cuisines before my browsing partner told me "Go for the one you want."

Nestled on the second floor of a compact commercial unit among William Ashley, Black Goat Cashmere, and more, the Lebanese restaurant offered a traditional touch of Toronto through white, textured walls, colour-coordinated interior, and an outdoor patio with plenty of natural light.

​At first, my browsing partner had feared the restaurant's classification as fine dining. I pondered the inquiry for a brief moment, but did not believe that to be the case in the absence of a three- or four-dollar sign on Google Maps. After all, décor without substance is a token trait of Toronto eateries.

And I was absolutely right. The hostesses were dressed in matronly baby blue dresses, hair and makeup perfectly done, and demeanour embracing artificiality to camouflage condescendence. We were asked about preference of seating, but told that both patio and dining room options entailed a short wait. Glancing around, I saw many vacant tables, so the disclaimer seemed to merely form their standard speech. The hostess led us towards a supposedly "nice spot by the window with a couch". The last word of the sentence was the most questionable.

​The "couch" was dirty as could be: a dusty sage surface stained again and again with food and drink spills until reaching the point of irrevocable dark spots. I was hardly pleased, but had no other option than to allow my exposed thighs to come in contact with the totally typical, soiled Toronto chair.

I eyed the Mezze Sampler, having recalled fondness for East Tea Can's edition. Without much familiarity with the other items on the menu, a rundown was requested from our server.
Ultimately, we - or rather, I - decided on the Cold Mezze Sampler and BBQ Meat Combo.

​The $29 trio was restricted to dips, excluding salads effectively. Hummus, Baba Ghanoush, and Labneh were my picks. Each arrived with a generous drizzle of olive oil and spoonful of toppings. Described as a combination of chickpea purée, tahini, and lemon, the Hummus was thicker and more satiating than expected. Lemon was nowhere to be detected, nor the customarily gritty nature of ground chickpeas. It was also smoother than the average hummus.

​Baba Ghanoush constituted my personal favourite. Although the acidity of lemon and nuttiness of tahini was, again, not to be found, I enjoyed the coarse texture of the eggplant and sprinkle of pomegranate seeds. The eggplant chunks had been evidently salted, but not so much roasted. My browsing partner revealed a wrinkled nose in response to the somewhat slimy dip, while I admitted to a preference for Me Va Me's garlicy rendition.

Steering clear of any mention of spice, Labneh, a strained yogurt dip, assumed the third choice of the platter. Toppings of chopped mint, slivered cherry tomatoes, and olives were well received, however the dip itself tasted no different from a viscous sour cream. I suppose this was to be expected of its " strained yoghurt" description, but I was nevertheless disappointed by its dimensionless qualities.

​Between my browsing partner and I, our dip rankings were completely opposite: Baba Ghanoush in first place and Labneh in last for me. Hummus was average all around.
Four pitas were provided for dipping, two soft and two toasted. The yielding nature of the soft pita facilitated acquisition of the dip, for the toasted ones simply shattered, leaving shards behind on our plates.

​Albeit denoted as a shareable specimen, the BBQ Meat Combo rang in at a whopping $39.

Arranged on the ceramic dish was one pistachio kebab skewer and four sizable chunks of chicken tawok. Four triangles of Lebanese pita topped with a generous portion of cilantro and a chunky, lightly garlicy emulsion accompanied the meats.

​The minced beef-lamb kebab was tender, yet not juicy. It sliced easily and featured an interesting texture of pistachio bits included on the exterior as well as within. The inclusion of chopped nuts did not contribute to the taste component, but altered texture in an unexpected way - think baklava, but in a savoury application comprising of meat.
Chicken tawok was the superior of the two protein choices, in my humble opinion. The charred surface instilled a smokiness that contrasted nicely against the supple, fleshy interior. Blackened onion and tomato were splendid complements, for the short-lived exposure to high heat had rendered them soft and sweet.
The garlicy sauce was passable - thinner and thus more appetizing than the dips, but devoid of complexity.

Accompanying the BBQ Meat Combo was a bucket of homestyle fries. Their starchy interior had me recoiling at the first bite, while their bland warmth unknowingly causing me to slide the bucket further away.

Sparkling water came at an obnoxious price of $2.50 per person. The same cost was tagged onto still water.

Bathroom facilities were located past the kitchen preparation area. It was a dimly lit space with two options of liquid hand soap and tall mirrors for outfit appreciation. I welcomed thick napkins being substituted for standard brown paper towel by the sink, though the individual stalls weren't particularly pristine. Affixed to the tiles were dust and hair; the wooden door bore markings of repetitive closure damage and chipped white paint.

​The meal came to an aching total of $100 following tax and tip - wholly unwarranted for a strictly average meal in all aspects. Our waitress was pleasant, even bidding us farewell at the exit, though the overall dining experience was subpar.

Our 2 PM departure again aligned with the conservative timeline I had envisioned. Before rounding south onto Yonge, I recalled photoism's payment limitations and detoured for cash. The ideal combination was a mix of tens and twenties.

​Along our trek, I was surprised to find Oomomo's alleged limited-time pop-up store still present. When the venture was first announced, the store was only advertised to remain until the end of January. My browsing partner was similarly amused at the downtown outpost being a "permanent" pop-up. Unfortunately, it did not support points redemption. Those functions were confined to main stores in Don Mills or First Markham Place.

A noteworthy observation was the shifting of the Bike Share dock to the north side of Dundonald. Besides the bikes inevitably assuming scorching seats, the location swap was ideal for maintaining distance from the Medicine Wheel frontage and nearby (unhoused) bench lurkers.

Crossing back to the west side of Yonge, I continued leading the way until reaching Wellesley. Without proper signage, photoism booths are quite challenging to locate. Thankfully, a quick Google search confirmed its coordinates within Kung Fu Tea.

​Two booths were positioned near the front of the store. I excitedly rushed into the first booth at seeing no lineup. My browsing partner would adopt the role of a bag holder as I flipped through the frames in search of Jinyoung. The grid arrangement was different from the North York location, so I made the mistake of choosing a standard $10 frame. Naturally, I rapidly grabbed onto my browsing partner to actualize a hurried 4-cut photostrip.

The subsequent 4-cut would be me with Jinyoung. The final 4-cut was a larger 4x6 configuration, using Jinyoung and Park Boyoung's photoism shoot for reference. Admittedly, there was a distinct upgrade from the $10 4-cut strips to the $20 4x6 grid.

Comparing Life4Cuts, Hama Film, and photoism, it can be deduced that:

• Life4Cuts has the most basic frames and worst lighting (white cast). The date stamp is included, but downloading moving photos is not an option.
• Hama Film features a variety of head accessories, vanity station, keychain/charm-making options, and decent number of frames. The date stamp is omitted; moving photos can be downloaded via QR code.
• photoism has the shortest countdown but boasts surprisingly good photo quality and the greatest variety of frames, including location-specific, birthday, and graduation options. The date stamp is omitted; moving photos can be downloaded via QR code.

Hama Film and photoism are likely my top choices in the GTA for now, for the respective reasons listed above. In the case of photoism, one is advised to bring exact change to eliminate the hassle of requesting change reimbursement. Claw Me Baby staff at the North York outpost had not only been helpful, but offered complimentary photo sleeves. In contrast, busy Kung Fu Tea baristas at the downtown location did not.

In concluding our photo booth stopover, the next stop was none other than a pre-ferry snack.

Cha Cheng Tealato was a recommendation that had been extended my way in a discussion about matcha soft serve/ice cream. Located in the NW quadrant of Bay and Wellesley, the notification of the new dessert parlour was extremely timely. Logistically, the shop could be incorporated into the day's schedule with ease.

​The mention of Rolltation was helpful in locating the stall, for I spotted the black and white storefront from across the street. Signage along the sidewalk confirmed the exact site.

Cha Cheng Tealato shared a space with the (awfully longstanding) poke and salad eatery. Its predecessor, as indicated by the name on the front of the kiosk, was likely Hey Moo Moo bubble tea.

​The menu comprised of tea lattes and house made gelato with an emphasis on tea-based flavours, as the name implied. Sampling of ice cream was, unfortunately, limited to one per person. I had wished to try Matcha, Thai Milk Tea, and Chrysanthemum Lychee before committing to a purchase, but eventually settled for just trying the latter two.

​We both declared a preference for Thai Milk Tea. Chrysanthemum Lychee possessed a robust, floral profile reflective of its name, but was a tad too sweet for my liking. The ultimate decision lay with a Mango Matcha Latte, Matcha Gelato Mini Scoop, and Thai Milk Gelato Mini Scoop. With the specialty latte priced at $6.95 and mini scoops at $4.50, the mid-afternoon snack set us back $15.95 before tax. I tacked on a small tip for the staff's courteous disposition, bringing the total to just under twenty dollars.

​The Mini Scoops were presented within a stamped biodegradable container garnished with a charcoal waffle. Thai Milk Tea boasted a lovely orange hue thoroughly infused with the fragrant loose leaf blend. Marvelous was its intensity of flavour and harmony of aroma, creaminess, and sweetness. Impressively, the charcoal waffle did not become soggy, but offered a wispy, vanilla-laced contrast instead.

The Matcha Tealato was noticeably grassier and more astringent than the Thai Milk Tea rendition. Consistent with the recommendation received, the specimen indeed embraced a resolute matcha profile capable of rivalling Daigyo. That said, it is important to distinguish between Daigyo's soft serve and Cha Cheng's sturdier, more gratifying textured gelato scoops. Resistance against dissolution is a crucial factor in my evaluation of ice cream across all its forms.

Recently rising to popularity after Banana Bread Matcha is Mango Matcha, occasionally paired with sticky rice components. Although I wasn't sure what to expect from the layered concoction, the beverage surely exceeded my expectations. The cloying qualities of mango from concentrate were undeniable, yet the synthetic product paired spectacularly with the bitter shot of matcha used by Cha Cheng. Given that the drink was minimally milky, the astringency could be deemed overpowering by some. As a standalone item, it may be worth to dial down the matcha intensity to prevent the compilation from becoming excessively bitter. When consumed in conjunction with other sweet treats, relativity provides neutralization.
Similar remarks could be made of the tealatos: altering spoonfuls of Matcha and Thai Milk Tea made for a highly enjoyable, well-rounded experience.

​The next stop was the Toronto Ferry Terminal, a first for both of us. Boarding the TTC is never a willing choice, but it beat having to move the car and relinquish further parking fees.

After a quick subway ride to Union, I led the way through the PATH to avoid the crowds and maximize access to A/C and indoor plumbing. Regrettably, waterfront office units had turned off air conditioning for the weekend. External conditions provided better ventilation than the stuffy likes of the unmaintained Waterpark Place bathrooms.

​Mother Nature had worked in our favour, for temperatures hovered at a forgiving mid 20s with a blissful breeze in the air. Humidity from the weekends past had thankfully vanished to make way for breathable conditions.

​According to signage at the entrance of the ferry terminal, visitors were divided into two lines: Ticket Holders (from online ticket sales) or those looking to Buy Tickets. I wasn't about to waste time queuing with the likes of unprepared families. While I may have been subject to processing fees, pre-purchasing ensured a swift entry towards the gates for boarding. Adult admissions were priced at $9.11 per person online, and valid from the date of purchase to the end of the current year.

​Visitors could board the ferry towards three points on Toronto Islands: Ward's Island (west limit), Centre Island (busiest point with amusement park), and Hanlan's Point (east limit, directly behind Billy Bishop Airport).

We decided on starting at Hanlan's Point, where we had the option of walking the length of the island towards Ward's Island and catching the ferry back at the westmost point. Boarding the ferry from Centre Island was another option, though later discoveries deterred us from doing so.

View the full album HERE !

The ferry ride was an approximate 15-20 minutes, with options of partially enclosed wooden seats (shaded) or standing (exposed) outside along the perimeter of the boat for a view of the city. Motion sickness medication is recommended for sensitive riders, such as myself, as turbulence is not unheard of.

​Bike Share stations are now available on the Islands. A number of visitors rented the new, orange bikes for their touring purposes, though we adhered to exploring on foot. A wide, paved asphalt pathway welcomed pedestrian and cyclist traffic, though did not clearly delineate between routes as Stanley Park had.

​Walking between Hanlan's Point to Centre Island, we found no change in elevation whatsoever. On the other hand, the asphalt pathway was not particularly enjoyable given its inconsistent sections of sun and shade. The scenery did not deviate drastically from sights along Lake Shore and the Martin Goodman Trail near Coronation Park either.

​A rainbow boardwalk and signage pointing towards Hanlan's Beach prompted my browsing partner to suggest a detour. I was perplexed at the proposal of visiting a beach in non-beach clothing, but followed onto the sandy path. It was, by sheer coincidence, that I had changed into my waterproof shoes just before commencing the downtown excursion. And what a wonderful decision it was! Sand would have immediately infiltrated into my runners and socks, causing horrible abrasion.

​But Hanlan's Point Beach wasn't the typical beach scene we expected. Loud music played from our right. Men in extremely short swim trucks were the primary demographic. While my camera captured the sun's reflection in the murky waters, another short-short-sporting being sauntered past with a cigarette in his mouth.
As more visitors began to file into the space, it became obvious that we were in the wrong place.

Returning to the entry point on the main path, I read the signage again: Hanlan's Point Beach was a nude beach, in addition to a "historic queer space". It was as if we had accidentally walked into a smoke-filled, gay bar in the depths of the night, except it was sunny with an eerily niche aura. No wonder we felt such excruciating degrees of discomfort. 

Continuing along the path, we arrived at Gibraltar Point Lighthouse. The standalone stone fixture assumed some sort of tourist attraction, with its own landmark plaque positioned nearby.

​A grassy trail led to the swampy frontage of the Island Water Treatment Plant. On the other side of the trail was the Gibraltar Point Centre for the Arts, an unexpected arts residence and education destination.

​Stumbling upon the Gibraltar Point Sand Dune and Gibraltar Point Beach, we found calmer, clearer waters and an unparallel serenity contradictory to the liberal chaos at Hanlan's Point.

​The highlight of Island walk was a quiet lookout spot just east of Gibraltar Point Beach. Rough-edged, concrete debris aside, the thrashing, turquoise waters were a source of tranquility for me.
"This is my kind of ASMR." I announced, conjuring recollections of my childhood cruise trip wherein boundless, indigo waters brushed against the ship in a consistent cadence in the calm of the night.
Needless to say, sitting on the lumpy fragments of concrete was far less pleasurable.

​When I finally reached the stalls, the reason behind the staggering wait times dawned on me: There were two lineups around the building, with each line filtering to just four stalls - an absolute catastrophe. Visitors from the opposing lineup even attempted to cut in line, but the lady before me kindly defended my position, firmly declaring "There is a lineup".

My browsing partner waited at the pier, which was a nice lookout spot, but positively bustling in the early evening hours. I stretched my feet for a brief moment, then we crossed into the Centreville Amusement Park.

​Declaring an imminent need for sustenance, we glanced around for items of interest. Overpriced pizza and soft drinks prevailed, though there were a handful of somewhat acceptable alternatives, like gyros and Subway.
In light my growing fatigue, we debated cutting the trip short and boarding the ferry back from the Centre Island stop. One look at the snaking lineup and I was persuaded to continue trekking to Ward's Island.

​The distance between Centre Island and Ward's Island was significantly shorter than from Hanlan's Point to Centre Island. Our steps grew brisk in the cooler evening temperatures. Navigating off the asphalt trail onto softer, grassy meadows also assisted in alleviating exhaustion.

Despite our stay exceeded the planned duration, the course of events had worked in favour of us catching the sunset at Sunfish Cut Viewpoint.

One is unable to admire the entirety of Toronto skyline when in the city itself. The Islands serves to provide that perspective, as well as a short respite from metropolitan bustle. Having said that, food is scarce and indoor plumbing facilities even more so. Toronto Islands is lightyears away from becoming a sophisticated tourist-friendly attraction.

​Before heading back, I intended to make one more bathroom stop at the nearest fire station. Alas, revisiting the ferry schedule informed us that departures from Ward's Island would occur on an hourly basis after 7 PM. With hurried steps. we sprinted to the ferry pickup point.
​
The vessel was yet to arrive, so I took the opportunity to use the nearest public washroom. Ward's Island was primarily residential, with plenty of green space and a handful of eateries to serve the local community.

When the ferry was still MIA ten minutes past their scheduled departure time, I began to panic, wondering if we had to wait another hour to return to the mainland. The availability of Water Taxis now made sense to me - at a premium price, you could traverse to and from the downtown waterfront on a waterborne Uber, independent of ferry schedules and corresponding lineups.

​We eventually witnessed the arrival of the ferry and succeeded in boarding (despite the long queue!). Occupying a narrow space on the second floor, the sunset view was obstructed by other riders. Nevertheless, the short-lived pink-orange-purple gradient was breathtaking.

Dusk had already fallen when we disembarked fifteen minutes later. Routing through the PATH once more, I resolved to settle hunger in the Union Station concourse. Little had I known that my idea of a quick bite would be overthrown by the release of Caribana crowds after 8 PM

Union Market's vendors had shuttered for the day, while Kibo Market's shelves were emptied beyond seaweed salad and mochi pudding. We hunted for a clean space to sit, then braved the ruckus while eating a dismal BBQ Slow-Cooked Chicken Loaded Wrap with Cheese from Timmies. Extremely hydrated from the day, my requested Pineapple Dragon Fruit Lemonade Quencher was rapidly depleted. Water fountains in the transit hub were filthy with questionable filter statuses, but we succeeded in finding a passable station before continuing on our way.

The day's journey had started peacefully, but took a steep downturn once near the downtown core. Filthy bathrooms with long lineups, a lack of water fountains, and poor crowd control characterized our evening woes.

Just as we were about to leave, an unexpected invitation was received. Instead of heading back to Yorkville directly, we maximized our TTC transfer for a lovely, two-hour catch-up with acquaintances in the area.

Bestowed upon us was overwhelming hospitality, air conditioning, water and fluids, homemade soy braised eggs, and access to clean bathrooms. While fatigued, fun conversation served to fuel us for the remainder of the night.

​Parking in Yorkville had been a well-informed decision, for the neighbourhood did not seem to sleep even at the late hour of 11:30 PM. With LEDs weaved between custom interlock tiling, a sense of safety was felt as we descended towards the parking garage from which the day had began.

The trip home wasn't as easy as expected, for residual Caribana congestion led to delays exceeding fifty minutes. After all was sanitized and restored to their proper positions, my head finally hit the pillow at 2 AM.
What a day it was.