We've had more than our fair share of winter this year, but we had yet to add much in the way of "lude" to the mix, so we all bundled up last Sunday and headed out into the sunshine for the festivities. First things first, we hooked up brunch at Elgin Street Diner (there ain't no Sunday morning outing in Centretown without stoppin' in) and then Jeremy dropped me and Sam at City Hall and went in search of some downtown parking. Winterlude draws 650,000 visitors to Ottawa each year, but we're never sure where to put their cars. Happily, most people don't know that the Armoury quietly permits Winterlude parking alongside its Mess Halls. Nice soldiers.
The sights and sounds of the Crystal Gardens at Confederation Park had Sam skipping ahead, shouting out his recognition of the logo: "I had that sign at my Snowflake Kingdom!" He went on a school trip to the ice slides at Jacques Cartier park last week. His first order of business here was to "find the singers." It took us a bit to realize that the loud music coming over the speakers was a recording, not a performance. Sam was disappointed. Apparently a big fan of Aboriginal throat singing. So we began a tour of the park. The big fountain had been converted into a novice competitors' ring, with perhaps a dozen craftsman participating in a 4-hour ice sculpting event. Sam surveyed the sites and settled on the "unicorn without a horn" as his favourite. It was a swan, a
ctually. In fact, there were four swans being created in the ring: must be on the cover of the Beginner's Guide to Ice Sculpting.
ctually. In fact, there were four swans being created in the ring: must be on the cover of the Beginner's Guide to Ice Sculpting. After a bit, we toured the large finished pieces produced by professionals the world over. Canada made a strong showing with an amazing open-jawed T-Rex skeleton. We all cast our votes for the People's Choice right there, though some of the other work was awesome, too. Sam's excitement grew from sculpture to sculpture, and he offered an enthusiastic play-by-play for the crowds around us—describing each exhibit and rhyming off which ribbons it had won, then moving on with a gushing "Oh, look at this one!" He mugged for the camera throughout, silly boy.
After looping the park a few times, the last round on Daddy's shoulders, we took a break by the fire and Sam snacked on the traditional Winterlude fare of maple beavertails and hot chocolate. Happily, a musical performance began in the Ice Café – a trio from the Yukon called The Roots Sellers, who did a fun kind of rap meets Celtic Reggae sort of thing. Sam was right up there on stage, stomping and clapping to the beat, enjoying the group effort of trying to shake avalanches of snow off the café awnings. Was pretty sweet to watch. We stayed for four songs, made another slow lap of the park, and then headed for the car.
After looping the park a few times, the last round on Daddy's shoulders, we took a break by the fire and Sam snacked on the traditional Winterlude fare of maple beavertails and hot chocolate. Happily, a musical performance began in the Ice Café – a trio from the Yukon called The Roots Sellers, who did a fun kind of rap meets Celtic Reggae sort of thing. Sam was right up there on stage, stomping and clapping to the beat, enjoying the group effort of trying to shake avalanches of snow off the café awnings. Was pretty sweet to watch. We stayed for four songs, made another slow lap of the park, and then headed for the car.
We passed out of the park and across the Armoury grounds in the wake of the applause-o-meter voting for the best quick sculpture. From what I could tell as the sounds of Winterlude died in the distance, the crowd favourite turned out to be the unicorn with the horn. You can see how the magic wins out.
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