As most of you know, I was in Toronto for a few days covering the Online News Association conference. It was a lot of fun, I met some great people and I bumped into some old co-workers. Good times, good times.
The trip to Toronto started out pretty well, despite the fact that I had to wake up at 4:30 a.m. for a 7:15 a.m. flight. (I like getting things done early in the morning.) First, I hopped in a cab that literally got me to LaGuardia Airport in 15 minutes because he was driving 80 miles an hour across the BQE. On one hand I feared for my life, but on the other hand I admired his skill. I tipped well.
While checking in, I was offered an upgrade to business class for $45. I actually passed, because the flight was only about an hour long and why do you need business class for an hour? This proved to be a good decision, because there were less than 50 people on the 737 to Toronto. It was like flying in 1995! Most of us had entire benches to ourselves. Business class, however, was chock full of everyone who took the upgrade. Suckas!
Once in Toronto I made the mistake of accepting a ride from a guy who claimed to be a cab driver. (I know, I know...I was sleep deprived.) There was another ONA gal with me and we thought we were going to a cab, and then we were in the parking garage and getting into this guy's minivan. Da Dum!
For a second I was convinced that I was walking right into my own episode of Unsolved Mysteries, but the guy was just a nice local trying to make a few bucks as a gypsy cab. He got my new friend and I to our respective hotels. She got off at the Sheraton Centre, where the conference was being held, and I was going a little farther out to a smaller, but cheaper hotel,(The Clarion Hotel) since I was told the Sheraton was sold out.
This is when I realized that the people who run Expedia.com are morons. I booked the hotel through Expedia, who told me that the Clarion Hotel was one mile out of downtown. It's not. It's three miles. As a journalist, I have little patience for inaccuracies. On top of that, the hotel was in a dicey part of town, complete with pawnshops and what I'm pretty sure were halfways houses for men who had made far too many mistakes in life.
Calls were made to Expedia and I was told there was nothing available, anywhere in Toronto because of all the conference that week. I didn't believe it -- Toronto's a big place -- and at one point I actually said, "What about the Intercontinental? You're telling me that the bridal suite at the Intercontinental is booked on a Wednesday?"
I was then put on hold, calls were made and a half hour later I landed a suite at the Sheraton Centre for Thursday and Friday night. On Wednesday I would have to stay in the Toronto ghetto. Fair enough.
Of course, since I got in so early, I couldn't check in right away. I decided to walk around Toronto a bit. Oh, and while walking around, I saw no less than five other hotels that Expedia never even mentioned. Punks.
Me, on three hours of sleep after trying to talk sense into Expedia.com. All I wanted was a proper nap. And maybe lunch.
One of the first things I saw was this "Aboriginal Training Center" not far from my little hotel. I have no idea what it is, but since Toronto is such a diverse city, it didn't surprise me at all.
Downtown Toronto is actually very cool. There was tons of shopping (which I never got to partake in) lots of college students and plenty to do.
Toronto has a subway! Who knew?
These little Coffee Time shops were everywhere, even by my cheap hotel.
After lunch at the PickleBarrell, I checked in to the Clarion Hotel. This is not how I roll. Later that night I would learn that the heat didn't work! Klassy!
You call this a mini bar?
Eventually I napped and cleaned up for a reception. Much better.
Caution: Journalists boozing.
The funniest thing about the whole conference was that if an event was listed as a "Cocktail Hour" it was literally 60 minutes long. The Sheraton staff took the booze away from us so quickly it became comical. On more than one occaison I heard people say, "They realize this is a journalism conference, right?"
The next day I was all business, since I had to attend the sessions and panels and write about them. I like this photo of me, because it my Pauline! Serious Journalist! face. Also, I kind of look like a brunette Chloe Sevingy.
There were other conferences this past week as well. This one sounds fascinating.
Eventually I checked into my new suite at the Sheraton, which was a 150% upgrade from the ghetto. Who says journalists can't live large?
The living room, where I did all my writing.
View from the desk.
The most amazing bed ever, which I actually spent very little time in.
Bedroom
The bathroom didn't impress me all that much.
View from the suite at night.
My room was great, but even with the view and the space, it seems that the Sheraton couldn't install properly working alarm clocks. Mine didn't go off and I almost missed my flight back to New York. I made it with 20 minutes to spare. And yes, I have terrible air rage.
