The drive itself was long and uneventful; the scenery was pretty mundane on route. Canada is a country of extremes, the weather is either searingly hot or biting cold and the scenery is either stunningly beautiful or frighteningly boring. The drive to Ottawa saw us take in the latter. We did, however, pass by a building shaped like a giant apple, which, rather predictably sold apple pie. That's the sort of place I'd have been instantly drawn to if I was driving just to break the monotony. We stopped at a gas station (as you can see I adopted the country's lingo), with Fe happily singing along in the back seat to the songs I'd saved on her phone the night before. I nipped out to buy some more snackage, a Canada Dry and some Ranch Flavoured Doritos.
On arrival in Ottawa I was impressed, in spite of the dismal weather. It seemed to be an eclectic mix of old and new, the best example of the former would be the Parliament buildings (pictured below), which don't look too dissimilar to the House of Commons in London. Had a walk around them with my Uncle Eddie and Fe—making a mental note to check out some more historic buildings and places the following day—and ate my first beavertail! Don't worry I wasn't down by the river killing animals to sate my appetite; it's actually a flat donut, on top of which I had cinnamon and sugar! I also tried poutine for the first time, the Canadian national dish of chips, cheese curds and gravy. Or in Scotland, chips, cheese and gravy! This was in the Byward Market area, which looked pretty cool and cosmopolitan. Looked well worth exploring during my stay here. As we passed by there, two wee old guys were having a chat with each other during which one accused the other of being 'gay' for wearing red and green at the same time—certainly would explain Mayomen. He also gave another reason for his attack on his friend’s sexuality, namely that he 'smiles all the time.' This was obviously city where only grumpy fashionistas could declare thrive in their heterosexuality! Better make sure you have your best scowl and colour-coded clobber on, if you ever visit here!
Came back to our hotel, the Marriott, to take advantage of the hotel's BBQ, which in effect was really just burgers and not the good kind either. It tasted like the burger I got once outside Celtic Park that made me violently ill during the Bayern Munich game in the Champions League a few years ago. Fairly painted the toilet that night! Prayed that a repeat performance wouldn't take place. Also met one of Uncle Eddie's work colleagues tonight too. She took us on a tour of the hotel, taking in the pool, jacuzzi and so on. Made me wish I'd brought swimming shorts. Could have worn the boxer shorts I mistakenly bought from H&M, which had two see-through panels and looked like something from Right Said Fred's wardrobe. At least that would have resulted in me getting the jacuzzi to myself! She also showed us her room, which was exactly the same as our own: two double beds, living room, kitchen, bathroom etc. Thing is though, she was in there all by herself it seemed, which made me think that she was maybe one of those 'live-to-work' types—I'm the opposite—who seem to spend much of their time alone. Once you're eventually done working, what do you do in a hotel room all by yourself? It's no wonder people turn to vice. She looked happy on the outside, always smiling, but was she the same on the inside? Canadians should have better, longer holidays I think to prevent loneliness, alcoholism and god knows what else!
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