It’s been almost three weeks in Montreal now, and I’m really wishing I owned a car with air conditioning.
Aside from trying to settle in, which is asking a lot considering we came from a sleepy and beautiful little town with not a whole lot of hustle bustle, Luci and I have done some Montreal touring. Toured and got lost. That’s what we do. We’re pros.
We spent some time in Old Montreal with Marjo, who was a delight. A lovely woman full of vim and vigour, who looks about twenty years younger than she is. It’s serious fun when I can finally meet someone from my blog. First Marjo and then Darth. Good people, these Habs fans. Fine Montrealers. I’ll bet they don’t tailgate like everybody else.
We walked through the Montreal Forum, which wasn’t a delight and wasn’t lovely. Unless you’re a fan of indoor malls with hockey mementos scattered about and ghosts of hockey past hovering in the ceiling, pulling their invisible hair out.
We walked the halls of the Bell Centre, and although the doors were locked, we can now say we’ve been there. In a boring and idiotic kind of way.
We took in some blues at Bistro a Jojo’s on Rue St. Denis, which was both a cool bar and a cool street. We walked along Ste. Catherines, spent an afternoon on club-filled Crescent St., (which I’d like to see on a Friday or Saturday night), drove up to Mount Royal and peered over part of the city, but the best view meant paying for parking and I’m tired of getting shafted so we pretended the view was there as we drove away.
We’ve been stuck in major traffic more than once, went to the Bell Complex in Brossard and watched Habs prospects teach kids at a hockey school, and found a Russian grocery store for Luci.
We’ve had people honk their horns at us, and after I almost ran over a guy on a bicycle, he yelled and swore at me and I yelled back, because I’m not going to take it anymore. Even if I did almost kill him and it was my fault. But I was lost and looking around, gawdammit.
It’s been great fun sometimes, and sometimes not. We feel we’re outsiders, not part of anything. Lost souls working on a new chapter. Hoping to become comfortable. A part of things. Become Montrealers, at least for now. Sharing the same city as did Leonard Cohen and Mordecai Richler, Toe Blake’s Tavern, and the Rocket and Morenz.
I just miss my cat and she misses me. But I’ll get her here, come hell or high St. Lawrence water.