Wednesday, May 22, 2019

The first Tim Hortons


Grateful beyond adequate words to have been born in Canada, I am, however, not the best example of a Canadian. I loath winter, long ago gave up canoeing, am only a bandwagon supporter of my local hockey team.

That said, there is one Canadian institution I do occasionally support as shown by my Tim Hortons reusable coffee cup.


(By the way, despite what you were taught, there’s no apostrophe in Tim Hortons, but you can look that up.)

Many deride Tim's as the Walmart of coffees, but that hasn’t stopped the company from being Canada’s most successful purveyor of caffeine and donuts. There are thousands of Tim Hortons locations across this land and in the States (where it’s unusual for a Canadian franchise to prosper), Mexico, the UK, Ireland, Spain, Philippines, UAE, and one in Shanghai. 

The origin of this unlikely empire was Hamilton, Ontario, a rust belt steel town not far from Toronto. I’ve an odd affection for Hamilton, an easy trip by commuter rail, but have never made my way to the first Tims. Why not now?

The walk from the wonderful art deco railway station ...


... provides evidence of better times. From abandoned dog wash ... dog wash? ...



... to curious window display in a down-at-heels building for rent ...


... long closed bowling alley ...


... once magnificent turn-of-the-last-century apartment building, now scene of occasional unsavoury goings-on ...


... to an unprepossessing intersection where the first Tim’s opened in 1964. 


Some background: Tim Horton - here on the right ...


... played for the Toronto Maple Leafs, one of six teams in the 1950s and 60s National Hockey League. Tim and the Leafs - back then I actually cared whether they won or lost - were my childhood and early teenage heroes. 


At the time professional athletes often had to supplement their wages. With an eye to post-hockey, Tim got into the coffee and donut business. 


Tim’s was more successful than anyone in their puck-addled dreams (helmets were unknown then) could have expected. Unfortunately, having survived years in one of the toughest of sports, Tim died in a car crash. He is, however, commemorated by annual sales of enough coffee and cholesterol to (probably) fill the storied hockey arenas in which he played.

Rather sadly, the original Tim’s of that old photo above has been replaced by this, no architectural marvel.


Outside a statue of the chain’s namesake ...


... inside regulars keep watch on comings and goings.


But to pilgrims of a certain age what really makes the trip is the re-creation of a long ago Tim’s ...


... filled with stuff suggestive of ‘Canadian Maple’, ‘dutchies’ and ‘double doubles’ (all of which non-Canadians will likely have to look up). 







One highlight I don’t encounter is Florence Kasoian ...


... who’s worked here since 1975. Now in her nineties, she apparently comes once a week and doles out donuts for an hour or so. 

Satiated with Tim’s memorabilia, I walk back into town passing the Jubilee Apartments ...


... from 1897, year of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee ... the Golden Fortune Restaurant ...


... and an over-the-top, look-at-me Maserati in an area one wouldn’t normally expect to see Maseratis.


I also stop at Cheapie’s ...


... always good for a picture, if not a purchase.


Speaking of purchases, however much you plead, there’s no way you’re getting my super special Tims coffee mug. For that, go to 65 Ottawa Street North, Hamilton,  yourself.


Thursday, April 25, 2019

Portugal 2019 - part nine


Some of my favourite pictures, all clickable.



Lisbon - Rua Augusto Rosa - "Because the craft has to be genuine …”



Praia de Luz - Cafe Jasmin - watching the morning news



Vila do Bispo - 23A


Barão de São Miguel - cemetery


Bordeira - fisherman #3


Praia de Luz - beach from restaurant


Praia de Luz - tent on beach



Praia de Luz - Pastelaria Dom Doce - mid-morning coffee, brandy and cigarette


Praia de Luz - Rua 1º de Maio - red, white & seagull


Praia de Luz - pool where we stayed


Vila do Bispo - trousers


Lisbon - Rua São Lázaro - birds of a (sort of) feather ...

Sunday, March 31, 2019

Portugal 2019 - part eight



The back of the ‘traffic cop’ means we’ve returned to Lisbon.


Waiting in the airport departures area, I spot multi-coloured saints (€38.50) ...


… and Fatima Madonnas (€19) for those who just can’t get enough.


On board a passenger spots liquid on the port wing. He calls a flight attendant who brings the captain. The co-pilot goes to check …


… and says it’s a puddle of water. 

We depart Lisbon half an hour late. I now regret my puerile Protestant amusement at religious kitsch and hope there are plenty of devoted Fatima pilgrims on board. 


Goodbye to Portugal. Oh, and there will be one more post of what I consider to be my best pictures from the trip.

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

Portugal 2019 - part seven



Not so long ago, if you came to Portugal you’d see hundreds of windmills with canvas sails. 



Now you’re more likely to see windmills on tiles than the actual thing.


This rather sad structure speaks to the general state of Portugal’s windmill heritage.


In  the village of Carrapateira, I wonder if this windmill is a replica.

However, if you enjoy chimneys, then the Algarve is the place for you.



Even the hard-to-impress author of my 1875 Murray is complimentary: ‘... the manner of building their chimneys is quite peculiar and by no means untasteful (sic)'.




Something I didn’t expect is an enthusiasm for kitschy roadside advertising … 


… as with this somewhat faded lady hoping you’ll visit her pottery shop …


… an extraordinary display promoting a - what else? - dish shop …


… and unlikely pirate touting a seaside souvenir store.

The Algarve also lets me add to my collection of signs.


The spiffy waiter is a touch out-of-place at an unpretentious, small town eatery.


Sagres is a popular Portuguese beer.



And when did you last see a shop, one that's open, advertising film?


Cobblestones are as Portuguese as pastéis de nata.


I spot a likely looking cobblestone for a Portuguese ‘souvenir’. Cobblestones have long been favoured by European rioters. Ferg suggests a new Toronto business marketing genuine Portuguese ‘riot rocks’, although I fear Canadian customs might not look kindly on such an import. And anyway, the Portuguese, a gentle people, are not known for violent demonstrations. On the other hand, Portuguese doorstops may present profitable possibilities. This provides for much speculation. 


(April 27 - My 'borrowed' cobblestone is now in Toronto. It may occasionally find use as a doorstop or perhaps a paperweight. Or perhaps it will just sit in a drawer and, when I’m dead, those clearing out my effects will be flummoxed by what exactly it is.)