Digging Back Where it All Began

 (To be fleshed out in a few days... return)

My archaeology friends joined me for a public dig at The College of New Jersey.

Highlights:

I'm a rock start since i was one of the original 1990s diggers.

George said we'll figure out a way to have me audit his class.

Mark, Martha, and Dan dug with me. We were much more productive than the students. We work together as a great team. 

I had the shortest drive, for once.

Much fun!

Photos to be added.

Wednesday: Procrastinating the Drive

On our last day the weather was simply stunning, what Dad would call a Top 10 day. Naturally we procrastinated the drive home with a stop in Carleton Place, another town used for filming Hallmark movies.

As soon as we parked we were drawn to the Art Hub, an artist cooperative right on the main street. Two of the artists were there manning the shop, it is actually  a requirement of being one of the eight artists showing your work. They have as to how much space you are given, and how often you have to change your art. The year is broken up into a set schedule of shows. The woman I spoke with said they never have a problem finding artists to fill the space, then amended that to say in January they have had empty space because it is harder to get people to commit to being in the shop.

I was curious about Steve's art as it often features an orange VW bug in a famous city. Or sometimes it just features a famous city. A quick Google search pointed me to his page. If Ashley wasn't such a great artist, I would be tempted to buy some of his work. It is whimsical. Maybe I can convince Ashley to create a similar piece of work featuring a certain blue convertible.

We met Pam and another artist, both excited to share their artwork. She explained they have over a 100 artists in the coop. If they want to show off their art they have to volunteer in the shop. I bought supplies for Indigenous art students to help them with their studies.

After asking the artists for lunch recommendations, we went to Freska and dined al fresco on their front porch. Fresca is a breakfast place. With a menu reminiscent of a New Jersey diner.

Continuing the procrastination, we walked around the charming and picturesque town. 

Don was attracted to the Little German
Bakery. We bought a German donut for ride home. They gave us a punch card in anticipation of us becoming regulars. We handed it to the next person, who is a regular.

Sadly time to start the drive. GPS said 10 1/2 hours -- which was odd because the trip up was only 7 1/2 hours. It routed us through Montreal to Route 87 instead of through Syracuse and Route 81 (double check). So glad I looked!

Drive home uneventful. Stopped at Rustic Roost in Kingsley, PA for dinner. It felt like a step back in time. It is right off the highway. Cheap. Homemade foods. The German Chocolate cake was outstanding and even better than what the ice cream shop selling Perry's ice cream looked.

We pulled in our driveway around 10:30 pm.

It was nice not hearing politics for the week. I come home feeling very relaxed.

Hoping to return in the fall.

Tuesday: Public Dig at Lac Phillippe

While at Colonel By Day at the Bytown Museum we learned about a public dig taking place the next day at Lac Phillippe in Gatineau Park. As our plans had called for hiking in Gatineau Park, we shifted so I could dig while Don went hiking. I then coerced him into hiking with me to find Lusk Cave. 

Monica and Bob are the only two archaeologists working for the NCC (National Capital Commission) in Ottawa/Gatineau. They run public archaeology digs in August, which is Quebec's Archaeology Month. Their more exciting one is the following week at Lac Leamy, which was really close to our hotel. This dig was a 40 minute drive from Gatineau, even though both were in Gatineau.

I mostly dug with Alain, a retired government official. He told me the group digs regularly throughout the year. When it is too cold to dig they wash artifacts. They even have an annual holiday party. 

Yes, I wanted to join the group! I hope to return next summer for the Lac Leamy portion. I'm trying to talk my friends into joining me.

This site was lovely. We were steps away from a brand new shelter with bathrooms, ice cold water fountains, and a porch overlooking the lake. The lake provided a nice gentle breeze. 

Monica and Bob kept setting up tents to keep us shaded. Though it was 75 degrees with a beautiful blue sky and no humidity, they deemed it hot and stopped early. Though the afternoon shift did not start until 1, and I thought it was to go until 4:30, but 3:50 they took our screens and told us to start cleaning up. We were done cleaning up before 4:30.

Insert frown.

Each site is a little different. I've learned to ask questions before starting. Questions that often make the people in charge of the program realize I know
what I'm talking about. Sample questions: what are we looking for? Is there anything we should discard? Are we digging until we see a difference in the soil or aiming for a specific depth? Do you want to see what we find before we dump the screen? Other questions might come to mind.

In this case they were most interested in First Nation material. This includes quartz, something I was discarding at Red Bank because there was too much there to keep, and because it was not what they are studying there. At Lac Phillippe they were aiming for 20 cm. (less than eight inches), but did appreciate when I pointed out the changes in soil. They trusted me not to discard anything important. 

The sites were one meter by one meter, and measure in centimeters. We used tiny tin buckets, and small screens. People offered to lift the bucket for me. I shooed them off since they were less than half the size of what I'm used to hoisting.

The soil was mottled. They do not use a Munsell Soil Guide to identify the soil colors. I like Munsell. It so expensive, but it feels like real archaeology when it is brought out at a site. Instead they come up with their own descriptions and say it is not an exact science.

When we started I was told they never find nails, yet I found one almost immediately. It seemed like a new nail. I suspect it came from when they built the new structure last year (or so).

I was interviewed by Canadian TV. Ashley watched it. She was surprised just how much they interviewed me and included me in the story. I knew the mission -- be the charming international digger and make the day look like fun. As a former journalist who has been on the other side of the interview, I understood the goal, and did it. Cecilia, the newscaster, hovered taking footage of me digging. It was a bit much.

I had a fabulous time! Shared the link with my archaeology friends. Don is happy he was able to find something for me to do that would not have been possible to do in the Azores. I had a friend who was digging there last month, but had returned before our original trip would have landed.

I'm impressed we found a way to make up for the Azores, which we hope to reschedule. Trip insurance came through.

Afterwards we hiked 5 kilometers to the Lusk Cave. Most was on a road. Last kilometer was up a hill with built-in stairs. Hearing that bats like to sleep inside the cave was enough to keep me outside of it.

As we walked towards the top, a couple
warned us of a wasps' nest that was exposed when a tree fell right after they had walked next to it. We also saw a family tending to their youngest with scraped knees who was clearly tired of hiking. There were lots of people staying on campsites in the area, but few on the trails in the late afternoon. The campground had running water, showers, and even laundry facilities. 

Most of those digging were staying on site, which made sense as we drove at least 30 minutes before we found a place to eat dinner. I was happy to return to a real bed. Don is up for trying camping there next year. We'll see. Maybe I'll leave him at the campsite next year while I sleep in a real bed.

We returned to Meech &Munch in Old Chelsea for dinner, and had ice cream
around the corner at La Cigale, a place recommended by Monica. Cigale is cicada in French, the name is meant to evoke the sounds of summer, which makes sense since they only have an outdoor eating area. They have a booth where you order your treat, and then you walk over to pick it up from the counter. Many of the tables had games built into them. Lights strung. Garden atmosphere. A sign announcing when they are closed due to bad weather. Wish they also had an indoor dining area so we could go there year-round. They are located around the corner from the Nordic Spa.

A week later I followed up with Alain. He told me they found a firepit. My immediate thought was that Dan would have found that on the first day. Alain sent me some pictures.

I still need to reach out to Monica and Bob to thank them for the experience. That was the highlight of my week in Ontario. Dreaming about returning next year with friends.

Monday: Nordic Spa

When our trip to the Azores was cancelled due to storms, Don worked hard to find a way to enjoy the highlights of what we would have done. His top priority was finding hot springs within driving distance of home. 

The result: the Nordic Spa in Chelsea. 

I have no idea why it took a Google search to find out this oasis exists. Last summer we spontaneously ate dinner around the corner from the spa. On this trip, everyone we spoke to about it starting with the border control agent to our front desk to random strangers all knew about it. It is a mere fifteen minute drive from Parliament Hill.

Unsure how long to allow, we asked said strangers for advice. The time to allow ranged from a couple of hours to six hours. We knew we wanted to be there after dark to look for stars. 

We ended up spending 7 1/2 hours at the spa.

The spa is $99CAD ($75) plus tax. There are timed entrances, but once in you can stay as long as you want. The price includes locker, towel, and bathrobe. Unlike others we have been to, this was for adults only.

It is a cell phone free spa, unlike the one we went to outside Melbourne, hence no pictures inside the spa.

We spent much of our time comparing the experience to Melbourne's Peninsula Hot Springs. To be honest, nothing will ever be able to compare with that experience. Last year I went to one in Spa, Belgium. A decade ago we went to a Laugarvatn Fontana geothermal spa and the famous Blue Lagoon in Iceland with Ashley a decade ago, but the one in Melbourne felt magical. It was much larger than either geothermal spas in Iceland, and much less touristic. We met people from around the globe. That day felt we were disconnected from earth as we hopped from pool to pool, each one with its own personality, with a gentle breeze and birds singing. The one in Melbourne felt more natural. The one in Ottawa felt forced.

Someone described the Nordic Spa as a garden spa, a phrase we will have to search on in the future. We wanted a geothermal spa like in Melbourne, versus one that focuses on massages and mud baths.

Who knew there were so many different types of spas? 

The Nordic Spa boasted several types of saunas: Aromatic (the coolest spa), Finnish, Meditative, Turkish, Telluric, Intense Heat (up to 212 degrees Farenheit), Ritual (with shows several times a day), and Steam.

Discovery Arboreal Treatment: sage and peppermint reminded us of the Native American smudging ceremonies. This was one of the ritual steam baths. It filled up quickly and we ended up near the top, a rookie mistake as the heat rises. I lasted less than half of the 16 minute program.

There was also a towel dance in an Artisan Meditative program that was shorter than the discovery arboreal treatment we went to. Our artisan danced to Billy Joel's Vienna and something calmer. I thought of Aimee as she wielded her stiff towel as if it was a flag.

Some of the areas were deemed silent, others social. I enjoyed the silent ones when my inner librarian could shush people who dared to talk. The panoramic area with views of nearby Ottawa were social. They were a reminder that we were not that far away from the capitol. 

We need not see nearly as many stars as we expected.

It was odd eating dinner wearing only a bathing suit and a robe. Even odder that everyone else was doing it, yet the servers were dressed in street clothes. By odd, I mean uncomfortable. We were allowed to stay as late as we wanted, but once we changed and returned to our cars our time was up. Fortunately the food was not overpriced. In addition to a sit down restaurant, they have a couple of bars serving a limited menu. 

I was surprised by the amount of alcohol in the hot tubs. The combination felt unsafe. The drinkware looked like glass, but was nice plastic. Everything I read says drinking alcohol in a hot tub is a bad idea. I'm surprised there were not warnings to that effect.

We noticed some international people, but did not talk to as many people as we did in Melbourne. Either the vibe of the place was different, or my personal vibe was different. With all that had happened that month, I wasn't interested in talking to people. Though I did talk to a few Ironmen athletes. I asked them how they did. The fast ones said the rain did not impact them (it didn't start until 3), the slow ones said it did, but they enjoyed themselves anyway. 

The people enjoying the spa were vastly white. Only a few Black people, and even fewer Asians. There was a wide variety of ages from barely 18 to much older than us. Don later commented that explains why the white woman working at our hotel raved about the place, but her Black colleague gave a much more tepid response. I thought it was a female vs. male response, but race is also a huge factor.

The spa offered many places to simply relax. Chaises. Hammocks. Giant swings. Shady spots. Sunny spots. Inside. Outside. A wide variety. Though cell phones were not allowed, e-readers are encouraged. Many people brought books. I'll bring a book next time, but maybe not a library book in case it gets wet. I did see one person hover around the pocket of her robe looking at her cell phone. I was glad to leave mine in the locker. Even happier that at the end of the day there were no crises from the outside world. It was as if they knew I needed a break.

Don brought an underwater camera with him, but we forgot to use it. It would have been fun to have a couple of pictures from inside the spa.

I did ask a couple of people what the place is like in other season. I've heard it is more popular in the winter than in the summer. We heard raves about going in the winter. Staff is more on top of swapping robes and towels so you don't freeze to yours. They come around with hot drinks. Plus, you can see the steam coming off the water. I think we are going to aim for late fall rather than deep winter. If it happens, I'll write about it.

The biggest question people asked us: why Ottawa?

Though I love Ontario, it was a consolation prize from the Azores.

Monday: Ottawa: Indigenous Tour

While in Ottawa we went on Jamie Morse's 1 pm tour called Indigenous Walks. She started these tours as a way to make sure her children knew their family history. The tour was sped up a little in order to return in time for the 2 pm ceremony for the Irish Society recognizing other had it at least as rough as they did when the canal was built using sweat labor. 

We did not stay for that ceremony.

Jamie offers these tours for $25(CAD) a person. Based on our tour, I would recommend her.

We are standing on unceded, un-surrendered Indigenous land. No one was conquered here. A treaty was never signed. It was simply taken.

The Ottawa River was important to life for the Indigenous people. The canal was formed in the paths that crossed where people gathered. There were many different tribes that converged here. Many different nationals. This was called Pimisi station in honor of pimisi, the Algonquin word for eel. The Algonquin used all part of the eel. It was their medicine, their food, the skins were also used. Back in those days, the area was full of trees and forest. Today we see cleared spaces for buildings, parks, and the canal. Eels were the messengers of the river. They transform from the salt water into fresh water.

This space was first for logging. Logging adversely affected the eel. We were encouraged to visit an art gallery at 150 Elgin Street to see Indigenous art. We did not make it on this trip.

Jamie taught us about how canoes are made. They are not simply made from one tree, but a combination using birch bark for the outside, ribs from the ash tree to give it shape, black sap with animal brains to waterproof, and spruce roots to wrap around it. I'm sure I missed a step.

Never show a canoe without its oars. The oars give it direction.

There are still Algonquin and other Indigenous groups not far from Ottawa.

We walked up the stairs closer to Parliament Hill. During the War of 1812 (United States vs. Britain), many Indigenous groups fought on the side of the British. They were told if they won, they would keep their sovereignty. The Innuits were the only tribe that embraced being Canadian. The others are still separate sovereign nations and refuse to be called Canadian. 

There are 800 reserved lands that are held by the government to parse out as they choose. Some have only a few people on it, others have between 50 and a 1,000 people. They are called communities. Reservations is the word used in the United States. These reserved lands are in the Canadian constitution.

Inside Chateau Laurier is an art gallery. Jamie pointed out themes that typically appear in art work. It was in a busy hallway, hard to hear her. I could tell she is passionate and knowledgeable. If it wasn't a free tour, I likely would have paid closer attention. I did catch that shapeshifters and dancing bears are common themes.

We crossed the busy street, past a man in a kilt playing bagpipes. I was glad to see he had a note identifying which song he was playing that moment because to me they all sound alike.

We stopped at the statue of a small man wearing a combination of First Nation and European clothes. As is often the case, it seems so obvious once someone points it out to you. I saw his mohawk and poofy shirt, but had not made the connection that they were from two different cultures. Joseph Brant, Thoryendongea, was a conduit between the cultures. He was educated. He met King George III. The British made him a leader. He fled New York and moved to the Six Nations where he made his life. He was a British military leader.

Once you look for the two cultures they keep
popping out at you. Puffy sleeves (British), bag made from tanned hides (First Nations), blanket (First Nations), medallion (European), hairstyle (First Nations), and moccasins (First Nation). There is a lot in the one statue. 

The group returned to the Bytown Museum. We continued on to lunch.

 

Monday: Downtown Ottawa

I can see some people read this while it was in its draft form. I hope they return.

We decided to return to Ottawa on Monday. When we went to Ottawa last summer we toured the Senate, which was located in their temporary space inside the beaux arts train station. We also went to Parliament: the immersive experience. We did not have time on that blisteringly hot day to also tour the temporary site of the House of Commons. A wrong I wanted to right on this quick visit. The only problem was, they did not have any available tours in English.

Having lived both near Liege, Belgium and in Paris, France, I do speak some French. 

Don speaks none.

The tour was free. I originally thought he would send me on the tour and keep himself entertained. At the last minute he decided to join the group.

Our guide switched from Mellie, a lovely woman who encouraged me to ask questions in English despite it being a French tour, to Sammy, a young man who was sticking to the rules set by the government: other than the rules, the tour and all questions were to be in French. 

I asked questions in English anyway, translating into French to play by the rules. My English is stronger than my French, obviously.

I remembered many of the basics from last summer's tour. Elections are held approximately every four years. I recommend reading last year's post, or something even more official rather than how I interpreted what our guide told us.

Unlike the Senate, the House of Commons decided to stay as close to their official location as possible during the major construction project. They converted a courtyard into their house. 

Note the glass ceilings and exterior stone wall. Parliament Hill was built in 1865. Centre Hill's tenovations should be finished between 2030 and 2031, with Parliament returning to their space within a year. I knew it was a limited time to see this temporary space. Don did not realize this until later.

Just as red is the official color of the Senate, green is the official color of the
House of Commons. These colors were chosen based on how the government is divided in Great Britain.

My few notes: 

In 2005 there was a massive redistricting. I don't know why.

The President in the House of Commons does not give an opinion.

Everything is transcribed into the two major languages of Canada (English and French). My question was what about the Indigenous languages? Sammy said there are over 50 Indigenous languages. If something needs to be translated, it is.

The tours move swiftly. There is only every five to ten minutes in English and in French. I wonder if you can also do a tour in another language with enough advanced notice, or by bringing your own guide. I did not inquire.

Downstairs Sammy pointed to a brass bar. The bar is there to literally bar the monarch, or his representative, from entering the House of Commons. This rule was put in place in 1867 when they become independent from England. Conversely, they are welcome in the Senate.

The Federation is in charge of international commerce, defense, things that impact all of Canada. The Provinces focus on education, health, and things unique to each province. 

Sammy lost me when he described how a bill becomes a law. I needed the Schoolhouse Rock version. I think I understood that somehow the monarch (or his representative, the Governor General), the House, and Senate all need to agree before something becomes a law. 

He left us with the chapel du souvenir, which I translated as the gift shop. Instead it is a star-shaped room with books identifying Canadians who sacrificed their lives during wars, called the Memorial Chapel in English. At 11 am each day the page is turned in a mini ceremony.

I felt the 45-minute tour flew by in an instant. The non-Francophone felt it was much longer.

Though hungry, we went first to the Bytown Museum for Colonel By Day. The museum is located across the canal from the iconic Fairmont Chateau Laurier in Ottawa's oldest stone structure, which was built in 1827 as part of the Rideau Canal construction project. It became a museum in 1952.

Normally $10CAD ($7.50), the museum was open for free that day. Rather than studying the exhibits, I was distracted by the exhibits. I spoke with Monika and Bob, the NCC archaeologists who where showing off a display of some of their finds. Something I did not take a picture of because I was geeking out talking archaeology with them. I felt like I found my people. They told me about their Lac Phillippe public archaeology dig happening that month. With bated breath I asked when?, to which they replied tomorrow in Gatineau Park. August is archaeology month in Quebec and other places globally. 

Sometimes life falls into place in miraculous ways. Our vague plans had called for hiking in Gatineau Park. They gave me directions, telling me to arrive around 1 pm, but that it was first come first serve for digging. 

I was super excited that I packed my archaeology clothes as hiking clothes. They provided a trowel and other equipment. 

Monika told me where to find good ice cream in the area: La Cigalle in Gatineau, Picolo Grande not far from where we were, and Moo Shoo ice cream in the Huntington area. Like I said, my people.

I left Monika and Bob to go upstairs. I was determined to see part of this museum. Instead, I started talking to Sarah who had a display about African Canadian history. Something I know very little about. She guided me to blackhistoryottawa.org to learn more. They have bus tours every Wednesday (for free) and Saturday (for a fee). I hope we go on one next time. 

I was told I should learn more about Viola Desmond, Canada's early Rosa Parks. She was deemed important enough to be placed on Canada's $10 bill.

My intention with going to Col. By Day was to go on the 1 pm Indigenous Tour. I'll turn that into a separate blog post.

After our tour, we went to the Bytown Market (officially the ByWard Market, but historically called Bytown Market) for lunch, eating same place we ate at last year. The owner, a man at least a decade older than I am, is a flirt. He made an infused iced tea just for me, even as his wife was correcting him on the right way to do so. He also gave me two lemons and joked I should eat the extra one. We communicated in a combination of French and English. I miss communicating in a combination of the two languages.

Looked at the website for the Nordic Spa, noted they had a gap between 3:45 and 5 pm entries so we made a mad dash for them arriving around 3:20 pm.

Sunday: Escape from Ottawa

After driving around road closures for the Ottawa Ironman, we finally made it to Knox Presbyterian Church only about 15 minutes late. Founded in 1844 when Ottawa was still a small lumber outpost called Bytown, the 1932 structure is a classic Presbyterian church we have walked by on other visits. We wondered what the inside looked like. Up at the altar is a classic series of stained glass windows. The sanctuary has carved oaken benches. Locals know to grab a pad from the back before sitting down. We did not realize that, but as we were late, it didn't really matter. Others came after us, likely also tied up in traffic.

That week they had a visiting preacher, a retired woman who was thrilled to tell us all about Jacob, classic biblical stories that appear in the summer lectionary when she used to take vacations instead of filling in for pastors who are now on vacation. We both left uninspired.

Driving was proving to be a growing problem, and our parking space was only good for an hour, so we headed to the town of Almonte. Almonte's tagline is a "gem of a town." It was described to us as where Christmas movies are filmed, which made me wonder what time of year they do the filming.

We were advised to dine at Joe's Italian Kitchen, which people referred to as Joey's Pizza. I'm not a huge fan of American greasy pizza, but I do love European pizza. I went with the Joe Theisman pizza because of the zucchini and goat cheese. Don chose the Aloha Joe, an Hawaiian pizza. We ended up eating half of each other's pies.

The former woolen mill town is located on a river. I want to say the Mississippi River, because other towns were on that river. No, not THE Mississippi River, just a river with the same name as the more famous United States river. They have recently built a Riverwalk to capitalize on the river, but it was too rainy to explore it for very long. 

We did grab some ice cream from a booth before the rain, and ducked inside the mall across the street to enjoy it as we watched the downpour. Cute ice cream names certainly influence me. 

After admiring how cute the town is, and studying the art painted on the shop windows, we popped in and out of thrift stores. Unlike in Smiths Falls, we left empty handed.

The rain was putting a damper on the day, so we drove back to the hotel where I read and Don relaxed in the outdoor spa. He said it was much more crowded than the night before leaving him with the impression others had the same solution to avoiding the rain and the road closures in Ottawa. I was happy to relax in the room reading a book. I even managed to stay awake, which surprised both of us.

We finished our evening with dinner at Meech & Munch in Old Chelsea, a restaurant we enjoyed dining at last summer.

After dinner we returned to Ottawa, 
which was quieter since the Ironman was nearly finished, and had ice cream at Stella Luna, related to the shop we visited in Merrickville, Ontario last summer. If they had not closed their ice cream shop, I suspect we would have added them to our list of cute Ontario towns.