TTC Trips 6 of 6
Wednesday 21st June I travelled by the airport rocket (192) to Kipling. We left the airport at 16;30 and reached Kipling at 16:45. So far so good. The train pulled out of Kipling and into Islington, sat for ten minutes while the driver demonstrated how useless the Public Address system is. Something about trains turning back at Jane. Then a Toronto Transit Commission type walked along the train yelling something about Shuttle Buses.
We all piled off and clawed and fought our way upstairs, out of the station, to Bloor Street, across Bloor street (peak hour traffic) and began forming a disorderly mob at the bus stop.
Each change of traffic lights brought a fresh flood of people to our causeway. After fifteen minutes of waiting for a shuttle bus, someone noticed that the next phalanx had returned to the station, leaving a lonely Toronto Transit Commission penguin beckoning for us to risk our lives again and cross the million lanes of peak hour traffic.
The bit about shuttle buses was a joke, right? Wasnít it?
We trooped back into the station licking our wounds, ignored the Ticket Collector, and packed ourselves onto the eastbound platform. The train pulled in, we climbed aboard, and slug-a-bugs set off.
One hour after Iíd left the airport we were battling in to Dundas West station with a packed train, so delays in boarding.
I was home in ninety minutes, again. Thanks Toronto Transit Commission for stealing another thirty minutes from my day.
It seems like only a year ago that this little square which runs into the east side of Yonge Street, was re-vamped over a period of months.
Existing Trees were circled with Soil, the customary Plastic Sheeting, and then topped with an angular synthetic gravel that if left to itself tamps down pretty solid, but in this Pedestrian Traffic area was soon kicked out of place because, of course, the circle was extended to within two feet of the ďMcGill ArchĒ.
We had the Traditional Orange Cones for a couple of months, then city workers came and patched over the gap with an untidy bit of tiling.
Now the tree has less breathing space than ever, and we quicken our stride to get ourselves past the ugly tiling.