I went to some interesting restaurants in Montreal and in
one the growing trend, in the places I was choosing to eat, for the staff
talking to me really took hold when they asked me about my reaction to the food
they had served me, in that case it was rabbit. I got the distinct impression
that this restaurant and another nearby were working on the principle of diners
being curious enough to try new things with their food rather than go for
established favourites. I would have liked more time to quietly explore the
city, that said I think I was ready to move on and get away from the somewhat
frantic nature of the city with the continuing music festival and aftermath of
the Grand Prix. So repacked, as many cloths as possible laundered by me in the
hotel’s excellent guest user friendly laundry, and a taxi back to the VIA
station, an 5 hour train journey and Toronto beckoned. I had enjoyed Montreal
away from the central core of music festival and GP cacophony, had an
unexpected tower top views of the place from above the Olympic Stadium, met and
talked to a number of lovely people, but I also had two incidents that had left
deep marks on my thoughts, which I needed to come to terms with.
I have made it a habit to
visit any interesting parks, gardens, Botanic Gardens in particular, wherever I
go, so Montreal was not going to be an exception. They make the proud boast
that their Botanic Gardens are second only to Kew Gardens. Having grown up a
couple of miles from Kew and visited it, I would guess, more times than I am
years old, I am very familiar with the place and its feel as well as what it endeavours
to show and achieve. Also growing up in a house built on what was the gardens
of the home of Sir Joseph Banks, the botanist who accompanied Captain Cook on
his first journey round the world, I feel a certain affinity with Botanic
endeavours. The Jardin Botanique et Insectarium de Montreal is a large and
beautiful gardens with some unusual and enjoyable elements, having an
insectarium is very unusual as it gives the chance to see close to the
connections between plants and insects. Getting there just as it was opening in
the morning I and others were disappointed to find that we were stuck in a
short but unmoving queue for what turned out to be 15 minutes. The reason was
that there were at least half a dozen schools also waiting to get in the
gardens and the process for them seemed to be more like negotiating a
particularly difficult mortgage. With just two out of a possibly six ticket
windows open, and then one of those closed, some of those in the queue walked
away. Eventually getting my ticket I went over to the information kiosk to get
a map of the gardens and any plant explanatory information they had. I pointed
out that it was unfortunate about the problems with the delays in getting in only
to be told that I had only waited 5 minutes and three windows were open. I
pointed out that I was the one in the queue and she was wrong in her assumption,
to which she continued to argue with me about how long I had been in the queue
and the number of windows available. This was a meeter and greeter, someone
intended to help get visitors ready to enjoy the gardens, not to argue with
them, even persistent old fools like me. The following day I went to a museum
that charts and shows the story of the development of Montreal from its
earliest times, the Pointe-a-Calliere. Standing by the ticket desk was a woman
whose role was to hand visitors a map of the museum and help them understand
the layout, especially how to get into the basement areas where all the
displays are, another meeter and greeter. The way down was not clear, the map
showing none of the ways down and with a wide selection of doors, stairs and
hence possible routes to choose from I and others were confused and asked for
help, a request greeted by a dismissive comment about ‘following the signs.’
Which would have helped if the signs were obvious and not hidden behind a large
column as were the relevant stairs down. This is where I came across Jim and
Kew, a delightful couple who I was to learn were Canadians who live in
Vancouver. We worked together to find out how to get down to the museum display
areas and once down there came across each other several times and talked as we
explored this unusual and fascinating museum. We ended up exchanging contact
information and they asked me to get in touch with them when I got to Vancouver
to see if we could meet up there. But my experiences with that meeter and
greeter were not over, firstly as she seemed unhelpful in telling us how the displays
were set out and hence which way to go round to see the history of early
Montreal in chronological order. Then, when she described an early graveyard
where Native Peoples, who had converted to Christianity, were segregated from
early settlers burials. I happened to mention that such segregations are
evident in Northern Ireland between Catholic and Protestant burials. The meeter
and greeter then astonished me by saying we British were responsible for all
the violence in Northern Ireland and now that we have got out it was fine
there. Apart from feeling shocked and insulted by such a verbal attack I was
left open mouthed that someone in a meeter and greeter role should think it
appropriate to say such things to someone from the country concerned, and therefore
much more likely to know what had gone on there than she. Subsequently I made
formal complaints to both operations and received apologies from both with them
agreeing that such behaviour was unacceptable. It all made an odd side show to
my trip and certainly made me feel fully engaged in my adventures. The delightful
side effect was bringing me into contact with Jim and Kew.
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