Walking through Toronto last autumn, I found the presence of Tim Hortons to be the most striking feature of the urban landscape. It felt as though I was never more than a ten-minute walk from the next branch. If you are looking for coffee there, you don’t need a map: simply follow the continuous chain of people carrying those iconic cups like a colony of ants fanning out from a nest. During our trip, we became part of this cycle. The brownies at Tim Hortons became my holiday guilty pleasure, while my partner came for the caffeine.
Because both of us were struggling with a massive case of jet lag after arriving from Italy, we explored the city at hours when the streets were still nearly empty. This was the moment when the hidden side of this Canadian ritual finally became visible. Giant trash bags were lined up along the sidewalks for collection, packed with Tim Hortons waste.
