A city of politics and playfulness

I'll be honest, I was expecting to find Ottawa a fraction dull.

Canada itself has a reputation for stability, safety and predictability - all  words that sound like a euphemism for boring. So I imagined its capital city to be dour and intellectual – a place with museums on every corner where you nod wisely at the artworks and debate politics over lunch.

It has museums and politicians aplenty, but I liked it the instant I stepped off the bus in the city centre. I loved its look, feel and friendliness, with grandiose historic buildings, gorgeous fountains and eclectic street sculptures. It’s an invigorating mix of pretty yet playful, functional yet funky. Everyone seems particularly happy too - even the few beggars asking for change do it politely. The one thing you can’t like unless you’re a snowman is the weather, even though I arrived in spring in a failed effort to dodge the cold winter and beat the summer tourists.

On my first evening I joined a Haunted Walk where the most spine-tingling part was the bitter chill. Ottawa seems amazingly law-abiding, where crime is minimal and a murder would be the story of the decade. Which is brilliant until you’re on a ghost walk, which relies on dastardly deeds and ghoulish murders to hold our attention. In crime-free Ottawa the best our ghost walker can do is point out the canal where workers died of ‘swamp fever’ when the city was first built in 1826. We shiver anyway, as the icy winter wind takes another chilling grasp.

The next day I catch the open-topped tour bus to admire glorious views of the Houses of Parliament under green copper roofs with the Ottawa River snaking past. Some tourists block the pavement in front of Parliament to take selfies, and a posse of imposing dark-suited heavies neatly swings around them without the men breaking their stride or their conversation. The moment sums up Ottawa, a hardworking capital that also looks a million dollars.

The Canadian Museum of History is full of totem poles and intriguing artifacts from the First Nation people, and a fascinating section about a gold rush and the brutal conflict it triggered between the natives and the miners. I weigh myself to find out what I’m worth in gold and clock in at Ca$2,675,049. Since I’m so valuable I reckon I can afford a taxi back to the city centre across the Ottawa River. So I summon a taxi, but this is no ordinary cab. In fact I feel a little cheeky pressing an intercom on a jetty and watching a taxi-boat do a u-turn on the river to collect this solitary passenger.

Taxi driver Jean-Marc Henot is delightful company, telling me that he works during the wicked winters as long as there are passengers to carry, until ice gradually blocks the river. The view from the boat is brilliant, with Parliament Hill and other historic buildings lining the skyline.

When I jump off at Rideau Canal I see some locals wearing t-shirts while I’m muffled up with a scarf, sweater and an anorak. When you live in temperatures that can plunge to -10°C anything above freezing point must feel balmy. Rideau Canal becomes the world’s largest ice rink every winter when a stretch measuring 7.8km freezes over. Some people commute to work on ice skates, and I picture that parliamentary posse swooping along in dramatic trench coats and inscrutable sunspecs.

The canal is a Unesco World Heritage Site with eight manually-operated locks to lower boats through the city into Ottawa River. It was the first thing to be built when troops led by Britain’s Colonel John By settled here, and as a typical Brit, he naturally called the place Bytown in honour of himself. Today the ByWard Market that he also founded is a district of pubs, restaurants, boutiques and an open-air market, with wide streets originally designed for horse-drawn carriages.

I stop for supper in the Aulde Dubliner pub, where the waitress recommends a warming shepherd’s pie. The food in Canada seems universally good. The only things I can’t stomach are BeaverTails, sold from a brightly painted market stall. These large slices of fried pastry come blathered in sugar, maple syrup, cream, chocolate and butter, turning your fingers, face and innards into a real sticky mess. They’re hailed as a traditional dish but they obviously don’t rely on repeat business.

I wipe the gunk off my hands and head over the road to the excellent National Gallery, where I manage to spend three hours despite not being very arty. Admittedly the last 20 minutes are because I’m lost, but at least that leads me to a room of naughty erotic etchings by Picasso. Almost next door is the Royal Mint, where the witty guide remains good-natured despite two kids trying to outdoing each other with endless questions. The guide boasts about its eternal fight for supremacy over the Australian Mint in terms of purity and design skills. He’s so inspiring with his information and anecdotes that we all feel proud to be Canadians - until I remember that I’m not. Still, any country that issues commemorative coins starring Batman and Superman gets my vote.

Ottawa’s main attractions are within walking distance of the centre, and the Alt Hotel is a great base, with a bar that's comfortable to wine and dine at night even if you’re solo.

The free tour of Parliament is one of the most popular attractions, possibly because everyone hopes to ogle the gorgeous Prime Minister Justin Trudeau. It feels like a church inside with high arched ceilings and stained glass windows, while the 100m tall Peace Tower delivers great panoramas. A new flag is raised on the tower every day and the used flag sent to a citizen whose name is on a waiting list. People probably sign up their kids as soon as they're born now, since the waiting list is 57 years long.

Back outside the pavement cafes have sprung into life at a hint of sunshine, and I order rose wine to match the merry mood. A waiter tells me about the day he left work to find half a meter of snow to contend with. I can’t imagine how the city or its people keep functioning in such conditions. I draw my scarf tighter and head for the warmth inside. Perhaps that’s what everyone else does too.

Ottawa Tourism has an excellent website: www.ottawatourism.ca.
The Alt Hotel: www.althotels.com/en/ottawa/