The first stop on Road Trip ‘010 (that’s right, “oh-ten”) was Fredericton. The place I briefly called home in ‘03. Actually, I’m not the type to call a place ‘home’ so scratch that. The place I briefly stored myself and all my crap in ‘03. There we go.
I remember Fredericton as a rather beautiful place. Tree-covered streets, which were all laid out in a nice grid along the side of a hill. The Saint John river flows to the North and some other people live on the other side of the river I think. I would marvel at the different street signs and traffic circles. (Car roundies, as I called them.) Unlike the haphazard sprawl of St. John’s, Fredericton looked like a baby-big-city. Like if you fed it enough, in twenty years it would grow into a full-size, pain-in-the-ass, resents-you-but-still-comes-home-to-use-the-washer, grown-up city.
When I arrived earlier this week, however, that’s not what I found. Instead I found a place that reeked of small town in all the bad ways. It was ugly and small and gross and made me want to vomit up my side-of-the-highway-sourced lunch. This seemed like a harsh description though so I set out with my camera so you could see the ugly for yourself.
1. Faculty of Law
This is where I went to school way back when. I can still remember showing up late, parking in the dirt parking lot and getting yelled at for missing class. Good times.
2. The Church
This is the steeple. I wanted to find the people, but I couldn’t figure out any way to turn it over. It’s also the steeple I saw from my apartment. And if you’ll notice, an empty street in the middle of the day. Sad.
3. Something in the water
Seriously, guys, a pedestrian bridge over the river with views of the city? Who would possibly want to walk across something like that. Also, this useless box was just sitting there in the water like a damn useless box.
4. Stop sign
Two languages on your stop signs? C’mon! You know there’s no one in Fredericton who only speaks French, right? I know you like to think of yourself as biligual, New Brunswick, but you’re ruining the classic asthetic of the stop sign. Stop is fine. Arrêt is fine. Just make up your damn mind! (Not that it matters, I guess. It’s a big red octagon. Write a racial slur on it if you want, people will still stop.)
5. Water fountain
Really, Fredericton? Really? Tree-lined walking paths through your city? With easily accessible water fountains and clearly labeled maps? You’re know you’re only the size of my left thumb, right? If I can’t make it from one side to the other without required immediate rehydration, I deserve to shrivel up and die.
So … in conclusion I had a wonderful time seeing the city again. It vindicated my decision to get the hell out of there when I did.