I was born and raised in downtown Toronto. There was a time - well into my teens - that carried some cachet; in my generation, my social circle, I was a rarity among the suburbanites and the newly arrived. My teens don't seem so very far gone, but that Toronto was a different city than today's; the unspoken boundaries of "Downtown" have pushed North of Eglinton, West of Kensington Market, East of the Danforth, and beyond! "Villes" and "Towns" and "Littles" that I had never heard of in my childhood, are sprouting, growing, and multiplying like Dandelions on an untended lawn. Lest my metaphor of this weed be misinterpreted, let me express my admiration for these little resilient flowers - these harbingers of Summer - bright explosions of colour, cracking through the bland expanses of concrete and endless clipped green grass. Hooray!
I'll tell a personal story that illustrates for me how fast this city is changing. Ten years ago I was a fresh young thing with a hot new guy; a man willing to travel from his native Wales to be with the woman he loved (me!) We had met in University during my year studying abroad. I came back to Canada a few months before his studies were to conclude, to set us up in our new life together. Of course, I wanted to make this city, my home, as appealing to him as possible so I was meticulous in my apartment searching. I found myself headed to one showing on the dingiest street I had ever walked down; the overcast day made everything that much more grey and unappealing. "I can't ask him to live here!" I said to myself and I called the landlord to let him know I wasn't even going to make the appointment. About five years later, I found myself walking down a street strangely familiar to me (with that same man, now my husband), a street lined with renovated brick homes and new town houses, a street where we couldn't afford even a "fixer-upper". You got it folks! The same blessed street in Leslieville.
While all this change is exciting, like so many of us of middle to lesser means, we've had to get creative when we finally admitted to ourselves that this Toronto Real Estate rocket was unlikely to suddenly plummet. This is how we discovered Gerrard India Bazaar. We found our little run-down-gut-reno on a sweltering summer day; peeking out from its humble exterior, Promise as bright as that much maligned summer Dandelion. But it wasn't the house that sold me in the end - as the Real Estate gurus say"Buy the worst house in the best neighbourhood you can afford." - I was immediately engaged by the bright colours in the shop windows of Gerrard street, the gold jewellery winking in the sunlight, the mouthwatering aromas from the restaurants, the curiosity at the outcome of that great pink venture "The Lahore Tikka House", the mystery tunnel leading to Monarch Park, the tree lined streets, and the easy friendliness of everyone I walked past. I am excited by this neighbourhood because of its history, its houses, its culture, its promise, and this blog is dedicated to my intention to discover everything my new Neighbourhood has to teach me. At the same time I am hoping anyone who has anything to share about this vibrant community will feel free to share it here, making this blog as much about the neighbours as the neighbourhood.
I invite anyone to send neighbourhood photos, stories of favourite restaurants and hot spots, renovation tales, neighbourhood inspired art, and any Gerrard India Bazaar facts and trivia, to me at
GerrardBazaar@Yahoo.com, and I ask you to drop in from time to time to check up on my own adventures Discovering Gerrard India Bazaar.
