Monday, 16 July 2018

Once upon a time in Canada - next stop Montreal


But then I was in Montreal and a whole new chapter in my adventure. I had been there before, about ten years ago for a couple of days, and so felt I had some sort of feel for the place. So I was a little surprised that in my time there I found it difficult to orientate myself. It did not help that in planning the trip I had not checked whether anything particular was going on while I was there. It was not until a week before I took off for the trip that, all of a sudden on that Sunday when watching the end of the Grand Prix that day and they mentioned the next one would be in Montreal, I realised the blind spot in my planning. And so it was, a city with notoriously bad roads, you think you have seen potholes then go to Montreal and come back to discuss, now was rammed with people whose sole focus was ridiculously expensive super cars and the posers that accompany them. There was also a massive music festival which took over several blocks of city centre and several other events including a science festival out along the riverside walk. So a quiet explore of the place was never going to be on. I did go to the St Lawrence Seaway islands to check out if tickets were available for any of the three days the GP would be active there but race day was sold out and I did not feel like paying $70 for a walk about ticket for qualifying day, sorry race fans, so felt I had turned my back on the event although that was not easy with all the promotional stuff going on in city centre. I did get to watch the race, as displayed on a massive screen to one side of a large green and treed city square, all for free. Coming from Milton Keynes, the home of Red Bull Racing, I felt I was supporting the home team, sadly we did not win that day.
One thing I had been prepared for, I thought, was that Montreal being in Quebec, and hence deep in the French speaking part of Canada, I would come up against people who did not speak English or chose not to. I am not criticising them for any of those attitudes especially as I speak so little French I am deeply embarrassed by the fact that I don’t. What I had not realised before is that Canada is officially a dual language country with all Federal funded stuff requiring dual language information. I had been surprised in Halifax that I was occasionally greeted in French, especially as it had always been a British sphere of influence part of Canada right back to the first settlers, so now that surprise made sense. Most of the time my failure to speak or understand French was not a problem but occasionally it did seem to cause a bit of tension and, I think, was a contributory factor in two confrontations I encountered. A little more of that in a while. That first time in Montreal found me experiencing the sort of place I had never been to before, a relatively standard modern high rise city above ground, an interesting one with all sorts of different elements to look at and explore, but below ground it is another world of interconnecting, almost a grid, of passageways, shops, food courts, underground train stations, and so much more, all on one, two, three, even four levels below ground. In many respects a city below ground that links seamlessly to the buildings above ground allows you to travel around the city without ever going outside when the weather, such as -40C in mid-winter, means going outside is a serious challenge. Most cities, no matter how big and/or high the buildings are, are a very two dimensional place to move around, but Montreal and others like Toronto are this three dimensional type. Like a low tech version of some science fiction future where the planets crust is just a line between the above and below ground worlds. It’s also built on a rolling rocky landscape which just adds to the experience of exploring the place. By contrast I tried what they claim as their green mountain, Mont Royal, in reality a sizable heavily wooded rocky outcrop behind city centre. This is where the local joggers and mountain bikers are to be found. It looked easy, just a slog, but even taking the short stepped route I slowed then wondered why I was doing it, learnt there was no rewarding coffee shop at the top, felt the pain, and turned round about a third of the way up to make my way down again. At the foot I came across a Chinese student at the McGill University. He had apparently come over as art of a joint study on medical outcomes to treatment between the McGill and his Chinese University. That was a very different part of town, much more familiar to European perceptions.
When I had booked this trip I was not looking for great or iconic hotels to stay at, just good ordinary, comfortable, friendly. I did notice that the Montreal place had the word ‘suite’ in its title, so was curious but assumed it was just a fancy name with some special bits in an otherwise standard hotel. Getting there I found I was booked into the same place as many of the train staff awaiting their return trip. My room was a good size, included a small lounge seating area, but most noticeably a fully fitted kitchen with all that I would need to make a meal for two, excluding of course food and drink, there was even a dish washer. I was getting used to the realization that tea did not feature large in Canada’s hot drink preferences, filter coffee being their main drink of choice. Even seeing English breakfast tea on a menu did not mean I got anything that tasted like that so, seeing that I did have the chance to do more of my own thing in this room I looked for a plug in kettle. I could not find one, just the standard plug in coffee machine. Pots and pans yes but no kettle. I went to reception and asked if they had a kettle I could use, there being cabinets of ‘useful to the guests’ items adjacent to reception. They said of course and said they would get one to my room shortly. About an hour later there was a knock on my door and on opening it I was presented with a small, straight sided saucepan with a glass lid, identical to the one standing on the cooker in the kitchen area. Clearly that is what they see as a kettle and, after handing back the second one, I used the original one to boil the water for my tea to accompany my breakfast garnered from a nearby supermarket. What was it Churchill said about two peoples separated by a common language?

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