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 Winter in Ottawa  

 Viktorina Savelieva July 2022
My writer's group homework (Gloria Goodine):   "My Favorite Season in Ottawa"

 

This sketch was originally written in Russian and for Russians* about life in Ottawa. It was published in 2008 in the magazine "Our Contemporary"

Now, as part of my writing group's homework, I want to share with my grandchildren the memories of the beautiful ice skating on the Rideau Canal.

Pictures are taken at Rideau Canal, but on another day.

 

*In connection with the current events in Ukraine, I would need to change this word, but I do not know how. Probably, now it would be more correct to write: "for Russian speakers".  At the time of the events described, this word did not cut my ear, as an ethnic Russian citizen of Ukraine. Now the ethnic Russian citizens of Russia have become enemies for me. Terrible!

I love winter more than summer, for the purity and freshness of the air freely entering the lungs, for the noses and cheeks painted with frost, for the need to move quickly, for the returning feeling of health and strength. In our memory box there are many unforgettable memories of winter holidays, including skiing, both cross-country and downhill, in various picturesque places of the vast territory called the Soviet Union.

We moved to Ottawa from Montreal on summer 2007, but already knew that Ottawa is a fun place in winter, and the quintessential winter activity there is skating on the Rideau Canal. When our first winter in Ottawa arrived, we began to look for opportunities to ride this world-famous 7.8 km ice rink. Such an opportunity appeared on one of the beautiful sunny days in early February 2008, and I want to tell you about this day. My prospective Canadian readers may be amused by my impressions and emotions. But what can you expect from a 70-year-old "foreigner"?

 
 At the school of our grandson Denis, a trip to the canal was planned. All the details of the organization of this event can be the topic of a separate story. I can only say that 2 adult volunteers were to be present in each class. Denis suggested that it be me and my husband. Telephone conversations were held with us, all instructions were given, and here we are near the school, turned into a huge winter recreation base.
 
In the school yard there is a column of buses with posters of belonging to this school, a large number of stewards in very bright clothes and drivers in orange. All schoolchildren are sitting in the classrooms, we also have proceeded to the 8th grade. 9 am. From the loudspeaker - the anthem of Canada. We get up and sing. We were thanked for the support of the event. Everyone packs their backpacks and gets on the buses. After 20 minutes we arrive at the starting point, a restaurant called Mexi's Dow's Lake.
 
Then everything happens very quickly. It turns out that everyone except us knows everything.13-14-year-old independent citizens are instructed to drive 7.5 km one way to the place of traditional rest; then 7.5 km back and be at starting point at one o'clock in the afternoon. Departure of buses back to school - at two o'clock in the afternoon. Everyone, including Denis, puts on skates and leaves. Zero attention on us. Propositions like: "Could I help you?" don't even come to someone's mind. We are confused. Our presence turned out to be a mere formality, in case of something extraordinary.
However, we put on skates and go to the ice.
 
Light snow. It had snowed the day before, the snowplows had not yet passed. The ice is not visible. We feel like heroes, but disappointed soon. We are overtaken by a very extravagant lean gentleman, without a hat, with long gray hair. We have seen many wrinkles in almost brown profile. Here is a very brightly dressed fat lady riding, holding on to a special device made of thick curved reinforcement that slides over the ice. A young couple pushing a covered carriage in front of them with a baby inside. Very fast and confident couple of young paramedics with red crosses on their sleeves and small backpacks. O! Blimey! An exquisitely equipped, holding hands couple in an even more elegant age than we are. They gifted us with dazzling American smiles and waved us their hands. "Hi! What a nice day!" - and slithered past, leaving us with open mouths.
 
We cheered up, I made up my lips, smeared my face with cream and laid out a bright scarf. I think it's better now! I remembered that last year on the beautiful ice of an indoor rink in Montreal, I looked good. We are still skating well, but we should not longer fall. Here we do not see the ice, it's scary. We joined hands. So more confident.
 
Finally, snowplows and snowplows appeared. The look of this technique and the equipment of the staff inspire my husband very much, especially the number of people involved who are on the balance sheet of the city. We moved aside, and this powerful column passed by, leaving behind a wide strip of pure ice.
 
It is already easier, and we slid, supporting each other. Another five kilometers only "there". And back another 7.5? Will we get there? Here is the resting place. Portable toilet booth, table, bench and portable gas fireplace. We had some alcohol with us. We take it out, drink it for heating, warm our hands and - go ahead.

We have already emboldened. The so-called children have long since disappeared. We are already in a position to survey the floating beauties. This is the very center of the Canadian capital. Castle-style buildings are interspersed with cutting-edge architecture. The canal is lined with trees. There are fir-trees and pines, but I prefer lacy, frost-covered silhouettes of trees that have shed their leaves. And the colors! Blue sky, sparkling snow, green trees and bright spots of people, pavilions, advertising.

 
After drinking we are "a little tipsy". Finally we come to the end point of our route. Meeting at the Canal Ritz restaurant. As in the starting point (Mexi's Dow's Lake restaurant), a large area is occupied by numerous vendor booths, stalls, tables, toilets and portable gas fireplaces. Our grandson Denis, a healthy guy, eats his favorite treat - "beaver tail": a big, long, very hot cake with a sweet filling that flows down his chin and arms while eating. We also buy one for each and eat them, licking our mouths and drinking hot cocoa. There are benches in the huge tarpaulin pavilion and it is quite warm. The air is warmed by the breath of many people and the fumes of hot drinks. Laughter, red faces. The kids are going to ride farther. They have a lot of energy and still have time. The teacher is nowhere to be seen. She has her own life. Meeting at the starting point at one o'clock in the afternoon.
 
We're afraid of sitting for a long time: we'll relax and not get back. Let's go. Ahead - 7.5 km. Again: ice, Christmas trees, buildings, trees, toilets, and a festive crowd. The path doesn't seem so long anymore. Finally,- a bench in the tarpaulin pavilion of the starting and now - the final point of our route. My feet are already in my boots. I've already taken a bit of alcohol inside. Everything else is pretty vague: Denis; the teacher; "It was nice to meet you. Thank you, we had a wonderful time"; bus, car, Sasha, car, elevator, bath, bed....
Well, you have to pay for pleasure!