Happy 150th Birthday Canada!

Years’ worth of planning went into Canada’s big 150 happy birthday bash with tourists from around the world, extravagant shows in front of huge crowds, a parade of aircraft, fancy fireworks, some soggy royals-in-waiting and a celebration of diversity. Canada’s Indigenous people re-occupied Parliament Hill to remind us this wasn’t exactly an empty barren wasteland when the English and French showed up and that we have been some of the world’s shittiest tenants.

I was predominantly inspired to wade into the masses to experience three things: Bono and the Edge on Parliament Hill, the fireworks display and to have a turban tied on my head by the World Sikh Organization of Canada. My three buddies and I set out after a fortifying mimosa.

It was mayhem, and I love me some mayhem! Downtown was jam-packed body-to-body armpit-to-nose. To move through the stagnant crowd you had to form a conga line in one direction, passing single file lines going in the other directions like you are super cozy sports teams in the handshake line after a game. With an ISIS threat in the ether, security was screwed down pretty tight. To get on Parliament Hill you had to go through one of two checkpoints and the lines were ridiculous. I knew there were industrious people in line from 5am who stood there through the drenching rain but I wasn’t having any of that nonsense. If I’m ever standing in line in pouring rain at 5am you will know that John and George have been resurrected and I am going to see the Beatles.

By the time we got to the lines, they were 6 long blocks and the wait time was 5 hours. The poor bastards were standing there huddled in their wet clinging plastic Joe Fresh ponchos, cuddling their Contigos of Timmies and eating poutine from chip trucks using splintery wooden forks. They looked miserable and I didn’t care to join them. We waded into the milling crowds and eventually found ourselves at the intersection of Metcalfe and Sparks with a sightline to the big screens on Parliament Hill. On tiptoes I made out a bit of the morning show – glimpses of Charles and Camilla, our PM Justin fresh from riding in on his war unicorn, and some of the dance and musical acts. The crowd thinned enough that I could see and hear Bono and the Edge do their acoustic version of One. There were enough of us in the street of the right age and demographic that we could all wail along with them and have a bit of a moment. Right, check. Next plan – turban!

We swam upstream to spawn in Major’s Hill Park. I had T by the arm to pull her through the throngs and sometimes I thought we would end up with something dislocated. T is a tall lady with boobs at other people’s head height so there was some indiscriminate face boobing going on. You’re welcome, people. The line ups for every single thing were utterly unwieldy, including for places that weren’t actually doing anything or offering any swag. I waited, undeterred, in the turban line. With so many speedy turbanistos, it moved fairly quickly and I was turbaned and clutching a small card telling me to be respectful and not drink in my turban. Check two! Now it was time to head home and chill out until the fireworks.

There was no way I was heading back into the maelstrom downtown for the fireworks. These were promised to be the best fireworks EVER, but it was pouring rain intermittently and my ankle was sending me death threats. Instead I wandered down to the Chaudière Bridge to watch the fireworks unfold over the water. Wow. Just wow. They were being fired from 5 sites and were a gorgeous mix of colours and designs. I giggled and cheered like the demented little firebug I am and got some amazing shots. Check, check and check.

Happy 150th Canada!