Our World Cup quest to find the brightly painted beavers of Toronto
Martha and I were in Toronto in early June, just before FIFA launched the World Cup matches in cities across North America.
Toronto was clearly expecting some hoopla — and not just in anticipatory (actually, some of it was predatory) pricing in accommodations. I was shocked to see that an AirBnb we once booked increased its nightly rate by about 500 per cent for game nights. I gather from chatter out of the hospitality trade that that kind of dramatic profit-taking did not come to pass. Boo hoo.
But … there were some really wonderful things, and one of them was called the Great Beaver Quest, in which 51 hand-painted beavers were scattered around the Old Town district of downtown Toronto.
Like a lot of tourists, I imagine, we stumbled upon our first. Then noticed a second. And then … we were kind of hooked.
Each beaver was painted to represent each of the participating countries. (There were three others, with an omnibus or welcoming theme.)
We found ourselves walking around areas like the Distillery District, the St. Lawrence Market and Front Street, looking for bright paint colours in the distance.
There was of course an app, the significance of which we did not realize for a couple of days. I was not much interested in uploading our photos to it, and we did not know that the app contained giveaway clues to find the others.
No regrets, though. Martha and I had fun running into other football fans and others, swapping notes of where to find the next country.
The variety of styles on the beavers was truly remarkable. Local Ontario artists with connections to the countries were commissioned to paint a sculpture.
As our stay continued, we found ourselves earmarking a bit of time each day to find some more. While some were in obvious places, like parks or Union Station, we delighted in finding ones like Haiti, seen below, which was next to the George Street Diner, one of our favourite eateries in Toronto.
Some beavers were placed inside local businesses (an art gallery here, a bakery there, a pet supplies store over there) or in an atrium of an office tower. This makes sense: the project was overseen by the Old Town Toronto business improvement area. Shopkeepers told us they delighted in seeing scavenger hunt participants peeking around their corners.
During a few days in Toronto, it was a delight checking off our list — and with the random conversations that came out of it. We had a lovely chat with two young women, friends who had emigrated to Canada from other countries. Football is a common denominator, as is delight with a diversion.
Toronto was well known a generation ago for scores of painted moose. I recall it being something trivial that dogged former mayor Mel Lastman. However, last month, people seemed to remember the moose fondly in conversations we had and overheard.
Twenty years ago, St. John’s unveiled a series of painted mermaids. I kind of miss them.
The beaver quest is underway into August, well after this weekend’s World Cup final. After that, each will be auctioned off for charities.
A postscript. There was a country that Martha was keen to find, and it was of course Spain. It was a weekend, and we found it on Lombard Street … albeit inside a locked gate in front of an institute.
In the end, we found 26 beavers. Not bad for an amusing little hustle while we saw friends and took care of some business.
Apart from the Union beaver (showing all the participating flags) and two welcoming beavers, we found the sculptures of Jordan, Belgium, Ecuador, Canada, United States, Mexico, Iran, Iraq, Japan, Netherlands, Haiti, Brazil, South Africa, Turkey, New Zealand, Colombia, Norway, Uruguay, Scotland, Portugal, Cabo Verde, Morocco and, last but not least and hopefully the winner on Sunday, Spain.