ACCOZZAGLIA

A view from Algonquin Island, 30 June 2007 [Idlewild]

Few days in late June and early July end up this nice in Toronto.

We’re used to having oppressively smoggy, humid summers these days, where night temps are hotter than at any other time in history (or pre-history). But since Thursday, following a desperately needed cold front, it looks and feels more like Vancouver in summertime than it does the Big Smoke.

I just cycled over to Hanlan’s Point from Ward’s Island, roughly 5km. These names constitute parts of the Toronto Islands archipelago, which until Hurricane Hazel was simply the Toronto Island, which before the great 1858 hurricane, wasn’t even an island at all, but a spit of land jutting from the mainland at Cherry Beach.

The Islands are largely responsible for photographers who capture dramatic waterfront views of the Toronto skyline, of which most possible variations have appeared in postcards, promotional swag, screen savers (one even from Apple during the early G3 install disc days), and countless homemade web pages. Such endless photos make seeing the view from the Islands slightly anticlimactic, but what none of those are able to translate to pictures is the feeling that one can be in Toronto and not feel overwhelmed by the frenetic, cold, impersonal nature of a city that sometimes begins to chip away at the soul’s bonhomie while stacking that gravel into the pile of anomie.

I already know that there’s no way in the world that I’ll ever be able to afford living on the Islands — namely, Ward’s and Algonquin Islands, where most of the private homes are situated. In the rare times that a lot is opened by the city, a competitive lottery system makes it a gamble for any well-to-do, prospective islander. The other houses, dating back a century and curiously looking more like they were inspired by Nantucket, MA; Kerrisdale (Vancouver), BC; or Vashon Island, WA, are tightly held onto by wealthy, largely Anglo-Canadian families. What this means in practical terms is that a walk down the carless ways and avenues (private cars are forbidden on the islands, making them the largest area of land in North America where cars are absent, even more so than Mackinac Island, MI) yields a very WASP-y, sterile, older population where the name Stepford or Simcoe is more likely to be heard than Patel, Castilla, or Xuan.

This area of land is also where one hypothesis of where Toronto’s name originated, though no one really seems to know for sure. The Algonquin, when they were stewards of this region, esteemed this land as sacred, and it was the only place where all aboriginal bands — whether they got along or not — were allowed to co-exist, provided that they arrived unarmed.

It’s nice here. I like it. It’s a reasonably priced escape, especially when being at home isn’t such a joyous prospect. It also gives me a sense that this city isn’t entirely given over to unchecked developers’ practices. The exception is, of course, the Toronto City Island, which is not my idea of a good use of land that otherwise is restricted from most commercial development. It’s also devoid of trees, whereas the rest of the island grounds are crowded with older growth trees, many likely dating back to before Confederation.

Anyway, this is an instalment for my Toronto urban planning journal. My friend Shirley, who I met in an urban geography class, and I have considered visiting as many neighbourhoods and areas as we can before she leaves for Trent University in August. With each visit, I hope to write a journal entry on what we find. Even if we aren’t able to visit every place together, I’ll give it a try on my own. I’ll mirror it on this journal. Stay tuned.