Then I emigrated to Canada.
That first year in Toronto, I usually spent Sunday afternoons sharing lunch with the couple that had emigrated along with me. As well as a lot more time during the week with them, too.
However, that first year, 1970, "clocks going backwards weekend" saw me spending that Sunday alone.
I lived on St.George Street, and a couple of blocks from my apartment building was the subway. After a dreary morning, I decided to take the subway downtown and walk around. I got off at Toronto City Hall and walked around Nathan Phillips Square. I thought I would people-watch. In those days, there was no kiosk to buy a coffee or hot chocolate; I cannot recall if the wading pool had become an ice rink yet. What I do remember is, that the piazza/plaza/public space was unusually empty. I stood beside the entrance to City Hall and looked towards the Simpson's Tower and two towers of the Toronto Dominion Centre and wondered what I was doing there. (The third TD tower had not been built yet, nor had the Sheraton Hotel which is nowadays directly opposite City Hall.) The darkness and gloom at 5 p.m. made me really sad. I thought about the family and friends I left behind. I wondered if they were in our usual Sunday haunts; the pub. It was not winter-cold yet, but a chill went through me.
I stayed for about 15 minutes, then took the subway home. I had no TV nor record player, just a transistor radio and a Sony Stereo Cassette player, but I only has about 4 tapes!
I had a cup of tea, put on the radio and read a book. I read hundreds of books that year. In October 1970, I was not sure that I would be staying and building a life in Canada, and that first Sunday that the clocks went back, I really felt like I wanted to return to England soon. I had planned to stay for at least 3 years. I thought that North American work experience would be a good addition to my (then) meager Resume.
However, a Christmas in Florida and a road trip across this continent changed everything within 12 months.
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