I could live in this town.
It’s a walker’s paradise. Friendly people. Historic stone buildings on every corner. (With my granite-like jaw I’d fit right in!) Good food. Good craft beer. Inspiring art and sculptures everywhere.
[“A stairway inside Archives Canada. Fabulous”: photos by GH]
About that last statement, I’m not kidding.
At Archives Canada, as I approached a magnificent stairway to the floors above, a bronze, behind a corner, caught my eye.
[“This definitely looks familiar. From a postcard?”]
I vaguely recognized it.
[“A Centennial gift from Britain. Amazing. I love it. Thank you.”]
My sharp mind, always at the ready, thought, this could be something.
And indeed it was. (My mind is sharp, eh? Henry Moore is no common piker.)
[“What is that? White marble? Faux stone?”]
Yes, I could live in Ottawa. I’d look behind this corner and that to see what else is hidden away. And prohibited or not, I’d take dozens of pictures a day.
[“The stairs and walls are made from the same material. Stunning.”]
No wonder I feel at home at the Ottawa Jail Hostel.
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