We arrived in Toronto on time. The pilot had announced that the temperature on the ground was -10 C with a wind chill in the low -20’s. I had no idea what this meant, but I assumed that it would be pretty cold. Nothing could have prepared me for the blast of cold air that hit me as I exited the automated doors at Pearson International Airport. The wind was so strong that it felt like my heavy jacket had been ripped off my back and I was wrapped in a tight icy grip. I literally ran back into the terminal to warm up and recompose myself!

After a few minutes, I ventured out again, a little bit better prepared for what to expect. I knew where to find local taxis this time around and caught one that was just dropping off a departing passenger. I told him that I was heading to Queen Street downtown and we took off.

As we drove on to the southbound Highway 427, I could not believe how much the appearance of the city had changed. All the neatly mowed green grass at the side of the highway was covered in snow; icicles dangled from the trees, and most of the cars were filthy with muck from the pavement. It felt like I was visiting a different planet!

The hotel was in the Queen/Bathurst Street area which is an eclectic, Goth part of town. The cab driver told me to be careful going out at night as this was not a particularly safe area. Right. Just what I needed. I thanked him and hauled my stuff into the lobby.

The hotel was a lot more modern than the place we had taken back in October. There was a queen-sized bed, TV, stove, microwave and kettle. I needed to go out and get some provisions and make a few calls to let everyone know that I had arrived safely. I ventured out into the bitter cold and discovered very quickly that the boots I had bought in England were just not going to work in this environment. After the short walk to the convenience store it felt like my shoes did not have any soles and I was walking barefooted on the ice.

I brought my purchases back to the room and allowed myself to defrost before venturing back out to make some calls from a telephone box I had identified close to the hotel. The conversations were of necessity very short, as the bitter cold and the whistling of the wind did not allow for a lengthy exchange.

I made my way back to the hotel and decided to wait until the next day before I went outside again. The cold, particularly on my feet, was intolerable.

Next day was a Tuesday and it was still freezing. The meteorologist on TV announced, quite comically in my opinion, that it would be “warming up to -3 C today”. My first order of business was to get a new pair of boots. I had noticed a store selling boots and other cold weather accessories on Queen Street and I hurried over there right after breakfast. It was a military surplus store, quite in keeping with the neighborhood. I got a pair of military-issue winter boots for $129 and a balaclava to keep my head warm.

Now suitably dressed, I took a street car to the Eaton Centre where at least it was warm and I could use the public payphones in relative comfort. I really had no idea what my plan of action was going to be and found myself going around in circles trying to decide on where to start. I had a list of agencies that specialized in accounting staff that I had put together during our previous trip, and I had a checklist of “things to do” for new immigrants. There were also the two recruitment agencies that had asked me to contact them upon my arrival in Canada. The white pages in the telephone book turned out to be invaluable as it contained contact numbers for frequently-used government services.

I decided to tackle the documentation side of things first. The Ontario Ministry of Health, where Health Cards are issued was located at Yonge and Eglinton Avenue. I took the subway on the Yonge line and got off at Eglinton Avenue and then made my way south to the government offices. I took a number and sat down to wait. I was beginning to discover that this business of “taking a number” was very much a Canadian practice designed to control the flow of people waiting for services—something that we are not very good at in Africa.

After a seemingly interminable wait, my number was finally called and I approached the desk.

“Form IMM1000?” Check.

“Passport?” Check.

“Address?” Oops. I didn’t have one yet.

“OK. Proof of Ontario residence?” What? How was I supposed to “prove” that? Turns out that the rule was that you had to be an Ontario resident for at least three months before you could obtain a health card. I was told to come back when I had proof of my residency and a mailing address.

Well that was a bit of a waste of time! Based on this experience, I knew that I had to change my priority to finding a place to live. I had contacted both recruitment agencies, but I didn’t have a telephone number on which they could call me back. I was able to arrange an interview with one of them for the following week, but it looked like I just wasn’t going to be able to get anything done without an address and a telephone number.

I picked up the latest edition of the free Renters magazine and started working my way through it to identify apartment buildings that were close to subway lines or downtown. At this time, I was still under the delusion that any job I would find would be located downtown, so it was best to look for accommodation there. I was also looking for furnished apartments which are the norm in London. Not having to buy furniture would be one less headache for me to deal with.

One of the first things I discovered was that a good number of the rentals advertised for immediate occupancy were not actually available immediately. Most would become available at the end of February at the earliest, since tenants are usually obligated to give two month’s notice of their departure. This came as a shock to me as those “plentiful rentals” were suddenly beginning to look a lot less plentiful!

After about at least 50 calls I was able to find one building where a unit was available immediately. It was at College Park at the intersection of Yonge and College with indoor access to the College subway station. This was just the sort of place I was looking for and I enthusiastically made an appointment to take a look at it later that afternoon.

When I arrived, I started having misgivings almost immediately. There were high-end shops at street level and the foyer was constructed in marble and glass. There was a concierge’s desk on the first floor and after giving me a disdainful once-over, he called the superintendent to say that her appointment had arrived.

For the first of what would be several similar occurrences, the superintendent attempted to disguise her shock that the “Mr. Kingsley-Williams” she had spoken to on the phone was this individual clad in a massive parka, ski gloves and military-issue boots!

All of a sudden, the available unit that I was supposed to be looking at was no longer available for immediate occupancy. There must have been some sort of misunderstanding.

“Surely when we spoke on the phone you said you needed the apartment at the end of February, not the beginning of February?” she asked without missing a beat.

Not to completely waste the opportunity of this interaction, I asked what the rent was since it hadn’t been advertised in the magazine.

“$2500 monthly, first and last month due on signing the lease plus a $200 key deposit”.

Yikes. That was a little bit outside my range. My shoulders slumped a little and she gave an understanding smile.

“Perhaps you should go and take a look at the apartment buildings about 2 blocks east of here”, she suggested. She was sure I would find something more suitable there.