Tag Archives: Canada

Toronto to Detroit on Greyhound

I’m not actually recommending this, just saying I’m doing it. One-way on WestJet is $603; the slightly cheaper flights go via Washington or Philadelphia which given that Detroit is just a hop over the water, doesn’t make much sense. There are trains – VIA Rail – to Windsor ($39), and taxis and shuttle buses across the border, but it’s not much quicker than the bus, and the bus journey doesn’t end at the border amidst uncertainty and confusion about connections and taxi fares. No, it ends here, and so now I’m wondering whether buying a $42 ticket on the Greyhound Package Express was such a good idea. The reviews aren’t great, to be honest:

If you would like to visit the details are: 1001 Howard Street Detroit, +1 313-961-8011, greyhound.com. The bus leaves Toronto from Bay St opposite the north end of the Eaton Centre. (And the journey was fine – 5 and a half hours with leg room, pleasant homeland security officials in the tunnel, and no muggings, decapitations* or creepiness anywhere en route, including at the Detroit terminus despite being met by Dave working a Bill Nighy look and sporting a new cravat.

* refers to a story told to me by George as I was boarding (Man beheaded on Greyhound bus: Screaming passengers fled in terror from a Greyhound bus as an unidentified fellow passenger suddenly stabbed a man sleeping next to him, decapitated him and waved the severed head at horrified witnesses standing outside. www.canada.com)


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Subject to all the necessary paperwork, I could live here. Vibrant, affordable, on the up and up, cool not slick, deep pockets of character, great, small bars and eateries, plenty of style and a good public transport system in the TTC. A $300,000 loft apartment in the yet-to-be-built but much trumpeted Oz development would do me. However, dead leaves are scuttling in the ice winds off the lake, pigeons are parking themselves on the steam vents from the subway, and it’s time for me to hug George, give him a hat, and leave him to practice his bass and party on. I’ve got a suspicion that Somewheresville might just be the place that’s home to someone you love, however, for now, I’m going to go and have a look at America.

Live in Toronto

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