The marina is very close to downtown Toronto, but sits at least a couple of kilometres off any sort of beaten path, on a private road. At night, the drive is dark, bumpy and strangely eerie. If you hail a cab from the nearest streetcar stop to get to the marina, it's quite necessary to reassure the cabbie that you have no intention of luring him down the dark winding road into a trap to be robbed and beaten. I've had good luck in this respect, but a large biker friend of mine who lives aboard usually only makes it about halfway to the marina before he is unceremoniously kicked out of the car. The cabbies get spooked. I had the good fortune to meet Fekadu on one such dark night, a warm and engaging fellow from Somalia. He is now our regular driver, going where other cabbies fear to tread, to and from the marina. Sadie is quite enamoured of our Fekadu. She is pictured here, gently reassuring everyone that nothing dangerous lies ahead.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Driving Miss Sadie
The marina is very close to downtown Toronto, but sits at least a couple of kilometres off any sort of beaten path, on a private road. At night, the drive is dark, bumpy and strangely eerie. If you hail a cab from the nearest streetcar stop to get to the marina, it's quite necessary to reassure the cabbie that you have no intention of luring him down the dark winding road into a trap to be robbed and beaten. I've had good luck in this respect, but a large biker friend of mine who lives aboard usually only makes it about halfway to the marina before he is unceremoniously kicked out of the car. The cabbies get spooked. I had the good fortune to meet Fekadu on one such dark night, a warm and engaging fellow from Somalia. He is now our regular driver, going where other cabbies fear to tread, to and from the marina. Sadie is quite enamoured of our Fekadu. She is pictured here, gently reassuring everyone that nothing dangerous lies ahead.
