The 2012 Canadian International Auto Show, Part 1

Warning: Picture heavy post. But if you like cars, it's worth it. This past weekend felt like a bit of a whirlwind despite being a long weekend. On Saturday I went to the Canadian International Auto Show in Toronto with my family. I always look forward to it, mainly so I can drool over the supercars and see whatever exhibition they have going on. This year was my favorite so far. The rooms all had a much nicer layout and each company seems to have stepped up their booth design.

Then, there were the cars. Here are a few of my favorites.

When I arrived, I basically made a beeline to the Fiat section, hoping to see the new Fiat 500 Abarth. I wasn't disappointed. I want one. The car was mobbed with people, it was hard to even get a picture. I hope that means it will sell well.

Next up is the new Nissan GT-R.

This car confuzzles me a bit. Sometimes I love how it looks, sometimes it seems a little vanilla for all of its power. The facts are that it now has 15 more hp and made it around the Nürburgring 10 seconds faster than last year. So the engineers are obviously doing something right.

I did a quick lap around the rest of the south building's main room before heading down to the Auto Exotica room where I found lots and lots of true love.

As I walked into the room a McLaren MP4-12C greeted me. It's name comes from McLaren Project 4 (MP4), 12 for its rating on McLaren's own performance index, and C for the use of carbon fiber. It's McLaren's first non-F1 offering.

Next up were the Aston Martins. First, a nice Vantage S.

Followed by a lovely Virage.

I remember seeing a DBS last year and deciding that despite the lure and flash of Ferarri and Lamborghini, if I had to pick just one supercar to drive daily, it would be a DBS. They have an elegance about them that I think would make me feel like less of an ass as I pulled into a grocery store parking lot. That is, of course, if I couldn't have a Leno-style barn full of cars that I could drive based on my mood, the weather, time of day, etc.

And just as I was thinking about this, I looked to my right and saw this:

And my reaction, if I remember correctly, was something like "Whaooohgggg, oh my God, what is that?!? I want one!"

That is the One-77. Only 77 were produced. Price tag is well over $2 million Canadian. 7.3 L V12 and 750 bhp. Top speed around 200 mph.

Frankly, I think it's just gorgeous. It's a perfect blend of beautiful, elegant lines and powerful, lean aggression. Be still my heart.

You think one of those lucky people who own one will take me for a spin one day? No? Yeah, probably not. A girl can dream, though.

After tearing myself away from the One-77, I was surprised to walk down the line and see a Bugatti Veyron. It was then that I realized the Canadian Auto Show must be moving up in the world because they have some amazing cars this year.

All I could really think was "Come to mama." At this point I just slipped into some dream world. It's stunning, no?

I didn't think anything could possibly top these two cars, so I just wandered off in a cloud 9 haze to see what other beautiful machines surrounded me.

A pair of Ferarri 458 Italias (one Spider).

The new FF. Which I think looks kind of like a boot.

The Fisker Karma

Then, my dad noticed a green 1966 Shelby Cobra with Blue Dot tires.

My dad very nearly bought this car way back when. Maybe not this exact car, but it was the same  year, color, tires, and interior. So, who knows? Maybe this exact car. The price is now $1.2 million.

He earned major cool points in my book for at least considering buying this. But he lost all of them and then some for turning it down.

As we walked off, still talking about what a strange coincidence the Cobra was, we ran into a huge block of people. Everyone hovered around this one spot, taking pictures, and buzzing about something. From somewhere in the crowd I heard the word: Pagani.

Then, I saw it. And my heart started beating a little faster and Pagani brain kicked in. I think I started speaking Italian. Ciao, bello. 

The Zonda R holds the Nürburgring lap record and this one is the only one in North America. Pictures just do not do it justice. It's breathtaking in person--worth the price of admission to the show.

I don't really know what I can say about this car. It stole my brain and my words. What a crazy beast of a car. So I'll just leave you with this video Jeremy Clarkson giving it a go, because it's fun and it's loud.

That's it for today. Tomorrow, I'll post a few more pictures.

One Day in Normandy, Part 3: Pointe du Hoc

Now that I have this new site up and running, it’s about time that I get the rest of my Normandy posts finished. After this one, I have about two or three left and will do one a week until I'm done. We really packed the day full of sites! For any new readers, here are the other parts: One and Two.

Pointe du Hoc was about a 10 to 15 minute drive east of Omaha Beach. Although I knew some of the story about the Rangers’ ascent, I didn’t remember ever seeing pictures of the place. I had no idea what to expect.

From the parking lot I could not get a sense of what awaited us on the point, which was hidden behind a thick swath of greenery. A sign greeted us with some background information and let us know the significance of this place.

I tried to find a good oral history video from one of the Rangers but didn’t find as much as I had hoped for, so Ronald Reagan’s “Boys of Pointe du Hoc” speech from June 6th, 1984 seemed like a good alternative. I can’t deny that the man was a good storyteller.

There’s also this great in-depth interactive narrative, if you have some time to go through it all.

A short walk down the dirt path revealed a war-torn landscape. My first thought was that it looked like a cross between the earth and the moon. The scarring of the land and the size of the bomb craters knocked me back and hammered home the reality what happened here.

Pictures don't do the landscape justice. It's almost impossible to show how deep some of the craters are, so if you're ever in the area I highly recommend making a stop here. It is just better to see it with your own eyes.

We wandered around for a while, looked out at the sea and then back toward the casemates, trying to take in everything.

Henri showed us around a little bit. He told us a little about the guns, took us into the bunker areas, and enthusiastically jumped in and out of holes and shared his findings.

The French erected a memorial pylon on the point. They transferred its care to the American Battle Monuments Commission in 1979.

The erosion is so bad that the memorial is now behind a fence. It made me think that not only are we losing veterans and their memories, but we’re losing the land as well. There is, however, a major effort to preserve and stabilize the cliffs. For anyone interested in the stabilization project, there’s a PDF here.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay very long at this stop either. We were, after-all, on a mission to see as much as possible in the few hours we had in Normandy. I left feeling even more stunned and speechless at everything we saw. I knew there was only more to come.

Next stop? Sword and Juno beaches.

History Love: Travel Letters from Americans in Europe, 1850s Style

Yesterday I stumbled across a book,  Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, while doing research on Gallica, an amazing site with all sorts of digitized media from the past run by the Bibliothèque national de France. The book is a series of letters, published in 1852, from a three American boys (aged 12, 14, and 16) to Charley, their 16 year-old friend who was stuck back home studying while they explored Europe with their instructor. They each kept journals and wrote Charley letters about their experiences visiting England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland.

Here are some excerpts from a couple of the interesting ones I have read so far.

Letter 28 is about their first exploration of Paris:

Dear Charley:—

I like this city very much—every one seems so happy out of doors. Not only the poor, but the wealthy, are fond of the open air; and a great deal of time is spent in the gardens and on the boulevards. Every place seems to have provision made for the enjoyment of the people. Ices and lemonade are to be found wherever you go. The appearance of the streets in Paris is much gayer than those of London. You see a much greater number of women walking out, and they are generally very neatly dressed. But the streets do not look as substantial as they do in London. If there is more that is imposing, there Is less that keeps up your wonder. I do not feel able to think that the people here have much business to do, for every one seems to be engaged in pleasure; and yet there are great concerns going on, and the fine manufactures of this city are only to be done by labor and attention.

He goes on to write about visiting their first major site, Notre Dame:

Our first tramp for a sight was to Notre Dame; and I shall never forget, Charley, my first view of this cathedral. The exterior is more striking than any church edifice that I have yet seen. No engraving can afford a fair idea of its grandeur to one who has not seen it, though it will help my mind to recall its beauties whenever I see the picture. [. . .]

We repaired to a small to a small chapel used as a sacristy, or treasure-house of the church. Here we saw the coronation robes of Napoleon, and splendid capes and embroideries, in gold and silver, given by Charles X. And Louis Philippe; and here, too is the vertebrae of the late Archbishop of Paris, who was killed in the revolution of 1848. The bone has a silver arrow tracing the course of the bullet, which lies beside it. This is in time to be a saintly relic, but it seems to me a filthy sight, and in wretched taste.

And at the end of the letter, he writes beautifully about Paris by moonlight:

How much we would all give to have you here; for, though we are glad to tell you what we see, we feel there are scores of objects which interest us that we have to pass over, but which would make your eyes glisten, if you could gaze upon. Well, my dear fellow, stick to your business, make your fortune, and then come and look at the beautiful and fair in the old world; and who knows but perhaps we may yet chat cosily together in Paris? O, I do love to wander through the city by moonlight and gaze upon the bright lofty buildings as they loom up so gloriously in the mild lustre of a silvery night.

God bless you.

Yours affectionately, James.

What I really love about this collection is how the letters can seem relevant to my own experiences in small parts—like the beauty of Paris by moonlight and the way it feels like Parisians seem to slow down and enjoy life. We still wax poetic about these things today, don’t we? There’s still that touchstone of wonder we sometimes share as travelers, even across time barriers.

But then, the time and culture gap will open right back up when the specifics come into play.

By the time the book was published, the Haussmann Plan had not started, so the city of Paris did not look as well manicured as it does today. And then there was the social and political climate. The restlessness of the people and the state. Memories of the 1848 revolution remained strong. France’s government was still in flux, it transitioned from Second Republic to its Second Empire in 1852. I imagine that vertebrae they saw in Notre Dame had far more gravity for those kids in that time than it would today.

On top of that, the Americans had their own issues with which to wrestle, like the glaring problem of slavery. Later, while in England, Weld writes in Letter 54:

I have rarely heard a reflection upon our country, excepting upon our slavery. That they must talk about; and they are a little like the man who, having just got rid of the irritable affection supposed to trouble the North Britons, could not for his life help speaking of sulphur. An Englishman is sure to tell you that he is free from this sin—yes, washed, but scarcely dry.

These letters feel like real perspectives and real experiences, warts and all.

They made me think about how travel can be the context that helps us grapple with, understand, and discover our world, our ideas, our opinions, our culture, and even just the things that bring us pleasure (like moonlit Parisian strolls). But also how our opinions, culture, pleasures, ideas, and world changes impacts our travel experiences.

160 years from now, I wonder, will someone be reading our travel books and blogs for fun? What will they think our experiences? What will we share in common? What will seem totally alien?

If you want to give the book a read, check it out here.