The heat hammered the pavement, slamming against our skin from both directions. Leaning forward in my seat I stretched my hand toward our tiny sidewalk table and the glorious beer it bore. The small glass was slick from the moisture gathering on its sides. I clutched it tightly. I’m typically not a huge fan of beer, but I’m quickly learning the drink is a godly reprieve from my advanced melting-into-a-puddle condition. I’m telling you, heat is kryptonite to us Canadians.
Here’s how I toured the city. Comfortably. Continue reading