I arrived back in Toronto last night after my relaxing week in New York visiting the extended family. For the longest time after coming home from a city like New York, I always felt that Toronto lacked a certain … je ne c’est quoi. It felt like a little village in a way, rather than the largest city in Canada. But when one compares it to a monster city like New York, how can it not?
Coming home last night was different though. I’ve found a new appreciation for it. I can see beyond the grey cement walls and better understand the underlying foundation of the city and can understand why things are the way they are better.
Toronto the good. Toronto is good.
I dropped off my bags at home and went out for a bite to eat with my partner at Fresh (I’ve been jonsing for a good Warrior rice bowl and some dosas!). Walking into the restaurant, the first thing I said was “This feels so Toronto”. There’s something distinctly Toronto about Fresh. It’s clean and trendy, but not trying to be anything other than what it is. I can’t really put my finger on it, but I enjoy the atmosphere. In New York, you’d be surrounded by woman who looked like they just stepped out of a Gucci ad and men who are either Wall Street millionaires or who look very Hollywood. But the people in the restaurant last night were laid back, funky, laughing, engaging in serious conversations … they were enjoying themselves.
I was home and it was comforting. It’s good to be home.