Ottawa, 16-18 May 2011

Canadian distances are unimaginably huge.  A four-hour flight in Europe would get you across the continent, to northern Scandinavia or southern Italy, even north Africa.  Here, though, the rules are different.  The plains of Saskatchewan and Manitoba have opened up beneath me, Edmonton and the Rockies are a distant memory, and in front of me lies an entirely different Canada - one of power and influence, of bustling cities and frantic commuting, a clash of British and French language and ideals, where European culture meets North American brash.

Our arrival at Ottawa Macdonald-Cartier Airport is four hours late, and whilst virtually every other passenger on board makes a scrum at the service desk to re-book missed connections, I collect my bag and head coolly for the city.  Sixteen dollars later, I'm aboard the YOW Airporter, driven slightly maniacally by a man I'm sure I recognise from playing the role of Freddie Trumper in a recent production the musical Chess.   Freddie's motto is "to get you there fast but safe", which he takes to mean swinging around corners, breaking city speed limits, and running the occasional red light.  Freddie certainly knows his way around the city though, bumping passengers to their expensive hotels until only the stragglers remain.  I am the last of them, deposited at a modestly-priced but brilliantly located hotel.  Wishing Freddie a fond farewell, I check in for long-awaited hot shower.

I am awoken next morning by the gentle tapping of rain against the hotel window.  The Ottawa weather is a lot like the British weather - chilly, wet, grey and breezy, and it hasn't cleared by the time I step out onto the pavements.  On first impression, Ottawa is as busy as any other capital city, but lacks the urgency and energy of London, Berlin or Madrid, probably due to its smaller population (c.1.1 million) and its inauspicious history.  For you see, Ottawa was never destined to be capital at all, and was only given the title when Queen Victoria was asked to choose a common capital for Canada in 1866.  Ottawa was primarily chosen for political purposes - it lies a roughly equal distance from English-speaking Toronto and French-speaking Quebec City, and had a neutrality that it was assumed would keep the peace.  The result of Ottawa's new-found status was the construction of the Parliament Building, on a raised area of land overlooking the Ottawa River, appropriately named Parliament Hill.  The imposing Gothic structures, with their copper roofing that have earned a natural green tinge over the years, are beautiful in their own way, but they have a certain darkness, a definite sense of British Victorian power.  Dotted around the grounds are several statues, including the "Women are Persons" monument, commemorating the overturning of a law banning women from being elected to the Senate because they were not considered 'qualified persons'.  The Canadian press of 1929 had a field day with this verdict, ironically headlining the new discovery that women were indeed people too.

The Parliament Building, Ottawa

"Women are persons"

Across Wellington Street, which runs away from Parliament Hill, is the Canadian National War Memorial and Valiant's Gallery, which depicts 14 greats of Canadian military history.  These include Lieutenant Colonel Charles-Michel d'Irumberry de Salaberry, a professional soldier who outwitted and defeated a vastly superior American force at the Battle of Chateauguay in the War of 1812, thus saving lower Canada from invasion.  Also represented is Laura Secord, who in that same war overheard plans for a surprise American attack, and struggled through miles of dense bush to warn the Commander of the British outpost.  Native Americans are also represented - Thayendanegea (Joseph Brant) was a Mohawk warrior who led his people in support of the British, bringing them north to Canada, to settle after the American Revolution.  It's interesting (and somewhat unfamiliar) to see both British and French people celebrated on the same side of the battle, but although these colonial rivals were foes and enemies, it is essential to remember that both were instrumental in the development of modern Canada, and as such, personalities from both nations are celebrated as national heroes here.

Thayendanegea

Canada's National War Memorial stands at nearby Confederation Square, a huge granite cenotaph with bronze sculptures, depicting a group of young men pulling an artillery gun.  Originally erected to commemorate the fallen of the First World War, it was rededicated in 1982 to take into account World War II and the Korean War, and the tomb of the unknown soldier was added in 2000.  A competition was held to design the memorial, with the eventual winner being one Vernon March from Farnborough, Hampshire, who set out to represent the Canadian response to the war, with servicemen of all disciplines marching through a triumphal arch.  The memorial was not finished until 1938, and not unveiled until King George VI visited in 1939.  He was so impressed that he said: "The Memorial speaks to the world of Canada's heart... One sees at a glance the answer made by Canada when the world's peace was broken and freedom threatened in the fateful years of the Great War.  It depicts the zeal with which the country entered the conflict."

The front of the National War Memorial

The Canadian war effort has never been forgotten, especially by those who owe their lives to Canadian servicemen.  My visit to Ottawa has happily coincided with the annual Tulip Festival, which sees the flamboyant flowers poking up everywhere.  The Festival has its roots in the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, during which time Canada sheltered the Dutch Royal Family in the Ottawa Civic Hospital, the grounds of which were designated international territory by the Canadian government.  Here, Princess Juliana gave birth to Princess Margariet in 1943, named after the marguerite, the flower worn during the war as a symbol of resistance to Nazi rule.  The day after her birth, the Dutch flag was hoisted atop the Canadian Parliament building - the only time a foreign flag has ever flown there.  Canadian troops, meanwhile, were playing a vital role in the liberation of the Netherlands.  A starving population in the western Netherlands were saved by Canadian airdrops of food and supplies, and took to their rooftops to paint signs saying "Thank you, Canadians!"  The First Canadian Army, through battles such as Scheldt and Arnhem, were liberating the country and its population, swiftly distributing food to a people brought to their needs by Hongerwinter ("Hunger Winter") a winter which had claimed more than 18,000 lives.  

To show their appreciation for Canada's assistance in all of this, the people of the Netherlands sent 100,000 hand-picked tulip bulbs as a post-war gift in 1945.  They were planted on Parliament Hill, pleasing Princess Juliana so much that in 1946, she sent another 20,000 bulbs, with a promise of 10,000 more each year.  Ottawa quickly became famous for its tulips, and the first Canadian Tulip Festival was organsied in 1953.  Nowadays, the flower symbolises peace, friendship and freedom.

Tulips in bloom during Ottawa's Tulip Festival

Tulips in bloom during Ottawa's Tulip Festival

Parliament Hill overlooks the Ottawa River, which also marks the boundary between Ontario and Quebec, the two provinces being linked by the magnificent "Royal Alexandra Interprovincial bridge", constructed by the Canadian Pacific Railways between 1898-1900, and seemingly made entirely of Meccano.  It is across this bridge that I achieve the feat of walking into Quebec, technically leaving Ottawa and entering the town of Gatineau (or as it used to be romantically called, Hull).  I'm actually here to explore the wonderful Canadian Museum of Civilization, where I intend to spend the rest of the day.  The museum includes extensive galleries on 20,000 years of history of First Peoples and a  brilliant "streetscape" walk-through of Canadian history, beginning with Viking explorers, the first non-Native people known to have set foot on Canadian soil, and moving through ranchers, whalers, fur traders, bison hunters, fishermen, timber traders, politicians, rebels, shipyard workers, Chinese immigrants, railway builders, union leaders, oil prospectors, and so on.  The list is as endless as the Canadian plains, and each group has its own story to tell.

The front of the Canadian Museum of Civilization is designed to resemble a tribal mask

Walking through Canadian history

The museum's Grand Hall makes the perfect focal point of a visit, filled with totem poles and recreations of Aboriginal houses.  The backdrop to the hall is a 350x45-foot wide photograph of a forest scene, said to be the largest photograph in the world.  Also in the hall are numerous sculptures, and if I had to pick one item that I would call iconic, it would be the sculpture entitled Spirit of Haida Gwaii, created by the Haida people of the Pacific Northwest and the artist Bill Read, whose mother was of Haida descent.  The sculpture here is actually only the plaster pattern, the real bronze cast sculpture taking permanent residences outside the Canadian Embassy in Washington DC, but I love it nonetheless.  It depicts a traditional Haida cedar dugout canoe carrying prominent characters of Haida mythology, including a raven, a mouse-woman, a grizzly bear, the bear-mother, the grizzly's human wife, a beaver, a dogfish-woman, an eagle, a frog, a wolf, and human paddler, and the focal point of the sculpture, a human shaman, who wears a Haida cloak and woven spruce root hat, and holds a staff carved with a sea-bear, raven and killer whale.  The significance of the passengers is highly symbolic - the raven holds the canoe's steering oar, indicating that nature is unpredictable and can throw anybody into uncharted territory.  The passengers do not always live in harmony aboard the vessel, but they depend on each other to live, and are thus all rowing in the same direction.  It's the same theme you pick up in the war memorial, of different people pulling together for the good of the nation.

Spirit of Haida Gwaii

The Grand Hall

Next morning, and with the weather still defiantly British, I set off on two personal travel missions.  Firstly, I've discovered that my battery charger is incompatible with Canadian plug adaptors, so I'm off to buy new batteries.  Second, I've realised that I forgot to pack my nail clippers.  Every crisis is an opportunity of course, and a quick visit to the Rideau shopping centre (one of those places Canadians describe as "small" but is still enormous) not only solves my woes, but puts me in touch with the Ottawa Senators' official hockey shop.  The 'Sens have had a rocky season, but they've got a proud history, including a load of Stanley Cup wins in hockey's formative years, and participation in a 1904 game against Winnipeg that the Winnipeg Free Press called "the bloodiest game in Ottawa".  The Toronto Marlborough's fared no better when they turned up for a game later that same year, as reported in the Toronto Globe newspaper: "The style of hockey seems to be the only one known and people consider it quite proper and legitimate for a team to endeavour to incapacitate their opponents, rather than to excel them in skill and speed... slashing, tripping, the severest kinds of cross-checking and systematic method of hammering Marlboroughs on hands and wrists are the more effective points in Ottawa's style."  Beautiful.

I've only got one afternoon left in Ottawa, and I've been recommended the Canadian War Museum, accessible via a baffling set of footpaths and crossings across multi-lane highways.  The museum takes a look at war dating as far back as the First Nations, before examining the effect of Europeans, and the theatre of war which was created with the arrival of two rival colonial powers, the British and the French. Fighting had taken place and all manner of alliances made and broken between the powers and the native population, but it all came to a head during the Seven Years' War (1754-63) which was effectively ended in North America with the British victory at the Battle of the Plains of Abraham (more on this in Quebec).  No sooner was peace established, then old foes united to fend off the invasion of Americans - first in the American capture of Montreal in 1775, and again at the War of 1812, when Canada came perilously close to becoming a part of the US.  Moving on in time, Canada sent troops to the Boer War, the First World War, the Second World War and Korea, and continues to contribute towards UN peacekeeping operations, as well as being a member of NATO.  This feels like quite a lot of war for a relatively small population.

Boer War reconstruction

Nieuport biplane at the Canadian War Museum

The story of Canada's wars is displayed and explained very well in the museum's many galleries, which places Canada in its international context throughout.  There are some fascinating artefacts on display too - Hitler's car is here (described as a "symbol of evil"), and there are some very good reconstructions, including of a First World War trench, and Italian house reduced to a shell during World War II, and a 1950s Cold War living room, amongst others.  I especially enjoy the 1980s Cold War jukebox, featuring such hits as The Scorpions' Wind of Change and Europe's Final Countdown, however I choose Elton John's Nikita which, to my surprise, is then blasted out across the museum.

The Canadian War Museum may be a museum of war, but its message to the world is very much one of peace and hope, and my take-home is that we can only achieve these if we learn about human mistakes.  In the final gallery, a video on the wall contains a Kofi Annan quote about the Cold War, that I think is worth remembering: "The nations and peoples of the United Nations have been given a second chance... With the Cold War ended... There is a need to ensure that the lessons of the past four decades are learned and that the errors, or variations of them, are not repeated.  For there may not be a third opportunity for our planet."

My brief stay in the Canadian capital has come to an end, but I leave with a lot of liking for little Ottawa - it is clean, tidy, efficient, beautiful, safe, and has everything you need to live well.  Tomorrow I will negotiate the city's bewildering bus network and find my way to the railway station, where I'll board a train to somewhere a little more fiesty: Montreal.