It seems like it hasn't been long since the last Where In Ottawa ran: and, of course it hasn't been that long.
Usually, I run my photo challenge on the first Monday of the month, but I have to admit that in July, I forgot. And so, I ran it a week later.
July's challenge took more than a month to solve, and it was only last Monday that I revealed the solution to the contest.
And here we are, the first Monday of August. Ready to play?
I have to start out by saying that every month, I receive guesses to the location of the photo by Twitter or Facebook; sometimes, by e-mail. Please don't do that.
The only way that I can show everybody who plays this game all the guesses and my responses is through the Comments section of this post. It shows the date and time of everybody's guess. Through this method, the game remains transparent to all players.
Sound fair?
If you're new to Where In Ottawa, here are the rules: below, I've posted a photo that I've shot in Canada's capital. Your job is to state exactly where the location is. Be as specific as possible: for example, last month's location was Heritage House, in the Experimental Farm. Because the Experimental Farm covers a large amount of territory and because there are several buildings on the farm, simply guessing the Experimental Farm is too general to win.
(This month's photo was not shot anywhere on the Experimental Farm.)
The first person to correctly identify the location—by leaving your guess in the Comments section to this post—wins. You can guess as many times as you like. There is no physical prize: you just get bragging rights and your name in an upcoming post that reveals the location.
Are you ready for this month's photo? Here it is:
Think you know Ottawa? Prove it!
I don't know what it is about seeing a photographer in action that captivates me, makes me want to take a photo, too.
But the backdrop was perfect, with its vibrant colours.
The subject was simple: a single person, leaning against a wall.
The assistant was the only one facing me, could see that I had my camera trained on his party. But he was focused on his job at hand and couldn't be bothered with what I was doing.
The photographer was beautiful, could have been a model, herself.
I couldn't resist. My camera was already in hand, I was already photographing the painted, abandoned station house.
I couldn't resist.
Happy Friday!
It's hard to believe that it's been two years since I first walked down those steep, narrow steps and walked past that thick, black door that led into what was little more than a crawlspace beneath a more-than-a-century-old structure, just south of the Byward Market and around the corner from Ottawa's old court house and jail.
Almost a century ago, this small hideaway was a prohibition-era speakeasy. It's easy to believe, given that it's not easily spotted from the street.
It's that character that head brewer and owner of Waller Street Brewing, Marc-André Chainey, has preserved so well. And, I'm happy to say that two years later, his brewery is thriving. More selections, increased staff, and an assistant brewer. If Marc-André gets any more successful, he'll need more space. A lot more space.
To celebrate Waller Street's second anniversary, the folks at the brewery are having a party this Friday, August 4, and you're invited.
Don't worry: they won't expect you to just cram around their small bar (but you can, and wouldn't that be cozy?). As they said in prohibition days, they'll be out on the roof—slang for I'm going out for a drink.
The party starts at 4:00, on the patio at Level One, just next to where you head down to the brewery, on 14 Waller Street. The party will also be held in the brewery, so you can still check out that space and take a step back in time.
The party wraps up at 11:00. In seven hours, expect new brew releases, live Jazz music, and nibblies. Meet the brewers and raise a glass (or two*—it's their second anniversary, after all!). I hope to see you there.
Cheers!
* Please celebrate responsibly.
It's only four blocks long.
The street is lined with walk-up apartments on either side in that quintessential Montreal design. Red or brown brick and black iron. Balconies facing the street.
I knew that when I was born, my parents lived in an apartment in Verdun, in one of Montreal's many suburbs, but I didn't know that we lived in two apartments on the same street. Same building: one bottom-floor unit and one on the top floor.
The only photo that I have of myself when I lived on 5th Avenue is of me sitting in a simple wooden rocking horse. I'm seemingly alone, on the balcony, overlooking the street below. At least, I thought it was of me in that apartment: after this weekend, I'm not so sure.
I was with DW and one of my oldest friends, Stu. The three of us arranged a photo walk and decided to meet on the terrace at McAuslan Brewery, where I had been just the Saturday before. We had a pint, ate lunch, chatted, and then headed out.
We crossed the canal that divides Saint Henri—where the brewery lies—from Ville Emard and Verdun at Rue Saint-Rémi, and then crossed another canal via Rue de l'Eglise. A right turn onto Rue Bannantyne and then a left, onto 5th, and we found a parking spot immediately on the left-hand side of this one-way street.
The buildings looked exactly as I imagined them: three-storied walkups. We got out of the car and walked on the north side of the street, following the direction of traffic.
I phoned my mom, hoping that she could remember the address of the apartment. By the time I reached her, my companions and I had reached the intersection of 5th and Rue de Verdun. "No," my mom said, we lived closer to Bannantyne. We were directly across the street from a convent. The address was five hundred and something, but I don't remember exactly: that was over 50 years ago."
The five hundreds were closest to Rue Verdun, but I paid heed to her words: it had been more than a half-century ago. I was going to walk back toward Bannantyne and look for the all-revealing convent.
Heading west, past Bannantyne, however, raised more doubt. The apartment buildings, though still lining the street, were now only two stories high and were not walkups. They had balconies, but they appeared to be smaller. On the south side of the street, we found a school, another building that looked like it could have been a secondary school in the past but was now a fitness complex, and a community centre that was once a Catholic institute, possibly a convent.
It certainly looked institutional.
The buildings across the street weren't right. They didn't match the building that I sat on in that 1966 photo.
Looking at that old black and white, I can also see that the parked cars are faced such that the balcony must have been on the south side of the street. The cars would have only moved westward, as the street is narrow and one-way.
If my mother was correct, that we lived in a five-hundred block unit, we could have been on the south side of the street, but we would have been closer to Verdun Road. Interestingly enough, there is a church on the northwest corner of that intersection, and there is a small building off to the side, along the north side of 5th Avenue, that is across the street from those 500-series buildings.
It was a long time ago. Either my mother is mistaken about the nearest cross street or about the address. Perhaps the photo of me on the balcony wasn't shot in our apartment: my great-aunt, Mae, lived a few blocks away. I didn't have her address so I couldn't look for her apartment. If she lived in a three-storied walkup and we were visiting, perhaps the photo was taken there.
I'm determined to find the apartment. This weekend's photo walk was great. We explored Atwater Market, Saint Henri, and Griffintown, which had a lot of interesting subjects for photography. I plan to return, soon.
This time, I hope to find answers.
Update: after reading this post, my mother called me to clarify some points. It seems that I misunderstood her when she said that we lived in two flats on 5th Avenue. I thought she had said that we had been in the same building: that's not the case.
Initially, we lived on the second floor of the two-storied units that were directly across from the convent (that very institutional-looking building with the cross above the door). Some time later, my Aunt Mae, who lived in the three-storied buildings between Bannantyne and Verdun streets, told my parents of a vacancy next door, and they relocated to that unit, which is where I was photographed all those years ago.
My aunt moved to another apartment, in Ville Lasalle, years later (by which point, we had moved to Dorval and then to Ottawa).
Mystery solved.
