My good friends, who are bicycling (on a tandem bike) all over North America for the next year, stopped off in Toronto briefly and took me to the CN Tower for dinner and chats…standing at the base of the tower, I could feel the sheer weight of all that concrete lifting into the air, defying the pull of gravity and time…
It is massive.
I’d become so used to thinking of it as a faraway thing, a monument always on the horizon, something small…or a fairytale building you can drive past on the Gardiner on a rainy day, looking like an old Welsh castle with mist and sky lowering around it to hide the top half from view. The Tower is magical on those days, I think.
I always call it “the Calgary Tower” without thinking, and find it sweet that Torontonians correct me so quickly and so firmly.