Conrad Boyce is the editor and publisher of the Cosmos. He has a BA in English from the University of Alberta and a diploma in journalism from Grant Macewan Community College in Edmonton. He lived and worked in the Yukon and Vancouver Island before arriving in Ontario in 1995. Beyond these pages, he is the Artistic Director of OnStage Uxbridge, and the technical manager of the Uxbridge Music Hall.
From A to B - Refined
When it comes to travelling very far from our Uxbridge home, my wife and I often live vicariously through the career of an actress friend of ours. Wherever she happens to be performing, we find time to visit, and in addition to seeing her shows, plan a weekend’s or week’s vacation around her. It usually works out very well, although this past summer we decided to catch her Broadway debut by scheduling a Big Apple holiday on the weekend of my birthday, and were stymied when her show unexpectedly closed a couple of months early. That, unfortunately, is show biz.
Depending on the proximity of the theatre, we sometimes fly (as we did to San Diego a year ago December), but most often drive. This summer, for instance, we’re looking forward to a week on Prince Edward Island, where she’ll be playing the title role in a new musical version of Evangeline at the Charlottetown Festival, and we’ll enjoy the hopefully balmy weather by driving there and back.
Similarly, last October, we decided to see her in a world premiere in a city we’d never visited, Hartford, Connecticut, and thought we would take in New England’s gorgeous fall colours by driving some of the less-direct routes. As it turned out, I drove almost the whole way because of my wife’s recently-broken ankle, and did it on the Interstates because of a cats-and-dogs type rain. When we arrived, we discovered Hartford to be a dull town indeed - the visitors’ information centre was closed on weekends, an interesting choice - so as vacations go, it lacked a bit. At least our friend’s play was excellent.
This past weekend, our favourite actress was opening in a non-musical, a rare treat for her and us, and not just any old play, but the brilliant Oscar Wilde comedy, The Importance of Being Earnest. And the production was not just in any old city, but in wonderful old Halifax, across the harbour from the stomping grounds of my wife’s youth, Dartmouth. We had to go. Because of the month, January, and perhaps with our tortuous trip to Hartford in mind, we elected not to drive. It was a fortunate decision, and a joyous weekend, largely due to Lisa’s mother, who couldn’t be there. But I’ll share that fascinating, and painful, story with you another day. This time I want to talk about the journey.
On the surface of it, our itinerary seems fairly straightforward. We flew from Toronto to Halifax, where our friend picked us up at the Halifax Stanfield International Airport (named for poltician Bob, not your underwear, although they’re all in the same family), a full half hour outside the city. In order to arrive in Halifax at a decent time (we sat down for lunch with our friend at 1:30 p.m. local time), it meant we had to rise before 4 a.m. on Reach Street. But that’s travel biz - it’s a bit wearying.
The bare facts of our departure and arrival, however, disguise the story of the adventure. Because for the first time in my life, I think, in the process of getting from A to B, I took just about every method of mechanized transportation known to man. This occured first because we chose to fly Porter Airlines out of the City Centre, or Billy Bishop Airport, and because we further chose not to endure the expense of parking downtown. This led to the following sequence of events:
4:55 a.m. Drive to Lincolnville in the Cosmos van. No GO bus leaves from Uxbridge quite that early.
5:18 a.m. Depart for Union Station on the GO train, sitting upstairs for the view, which we quickly realize is pointless, since it will still be dark when we disembark.
6:20 a.m. Arrive Union Station, and immediately hurry up the hill to find Casey’s Bar and Grill. Not for breakfast, which we had no time to eat at home, but because that’s where the shuttle bus to Billy Bishop leaves from.
7:00 a.m. Take the ferry to Centre Island, lasting approximately 4.8 minutes, the shortest boat ride of my life, even including my grandson Callum’s first trip in a canoe.
7:20 a.m. Finish checking in at Billy Bishop. We immediately go through security. No breakfast in the waiting room either, but at least the almonds and orange juice are free. And the Globe.
8:15 a.m. The Porter flight departs exactly on time, and it really is refined. A boxed breakfast (finally!), more free juice, and good leg room.
So to get from Uxbridge to Halifax, I took a van, a train, a bus, a boat and an airplane. Very nice. Two hundred years earlier, only the boat would have been an option, and a different kind of boat at that. And I would have had to allow a little more than eight hours.
