the turning-out-to-be great canadian/new england trip of 2007, part 06

June 25, 2007 on 9:50 pm | In wanderings | No Comments

we left montreal this morning and hit the road.  in montreal nord, the
servers are loathe to speak english as we had heard, so i ordered our
breakfast on the go from an un-named fast food restaurant completely in
french with only some stupidity on my part.  our order was correct :)

the st. laurent river is beautiful, but i’d only want to live along it
during the summer months.  i bet canada is *desolate* in the winter.
about halfway to quebec we stopped through trois-rivieres, a delightful
little town named for its confluence of, well, two rivers.  apparently
there are many islands where the rivers meet, so one might think there
are in fact three.  or more.  who knows – i got a beautiful brown
t-shirt from the information center :)

pipe organ strike-outs continued today in earnest.  the cathedrale of
trois-rivieres, purported to display the most beautiful stained glass in
north america, was locked tight due to the continuing celebration of the
previous day’s holiday, st. john le battiste.  another church around the
corner appeared at least closed and more likely abandoned.  on the way
out of town we noticed a sign for a sanctuary, a plain basilica of
modern construction.  it was open for prayer, but there were no docents
inside, so i couldn’t inquire about what appeared to be a pretty
standard catholic organ.

we arrived in quebec much later, and accidentally ran across our
hotel, the sepia.  we saved close to $200 / night by staying at the
sepia and not in vieux quebec.  which is good, because i’d be within
walking distance of all of those bars on the grand alle, and i have to
be up in the morning.  we had dinner at a sidewalk cafe, le cochon
dingue.  mmm, salade de chevre.  mmm, more international text messages.

the hotel frontenac, huge i’m sure, seems tiny when compared to its
doppleganger at epcot.  more french practice as i melted my mastercard
in the delightful shops along the waterfront.  quebec really is europe
in north america.  tomorrow we tour the city and head for l’ile
d’orleans!

the turning-out-to-be great canadian/new england trip of 2007, part 05

June 25, 2007 on 9:49 pm | In wanderings | No Comments

  today i fell in love with the city of montreal.  sure, the people are
pushy and the weather is nice about four months out of the year, but the
long winter and annual average of 120 inches of snow means that montreal
residents guiltlessly enjoy their summer months.  the city combines
elements of british, french, chinese, irish and scottish heritage into a
truly european metropolis, the only such place in north america.  i have
never seen a city of this size kept so clean.

the 5 a.m. sunrise came early this morning, but the warm weather and
light sunday traffic made for a beautiful tour of the city.  our tour
guide took us through le quartier latin, le quartier chinois, past
beautiful city parks crawling with people, mont royal, the olympic
village, what the tour guide called the “gay” part of town (a bar called
“le stud” with some skanky looking guys drinking beer on the patio), and
the oratorio, the largest shrine to st. peter in the world.

i struck out twice attempting to visit the object of my quebecois
affections, le basilique de notre dame.  strike one because our tour bus
only stopped for 25 minutes during the afternoon, so no time to stand in
line to pay the $4 admission fee, turn around and leave.  strike two
because we got back from the tour bus just as they were beginning 5:00
p.m. mass – and as today is le jour de st. john le baptiste, the weekly
7:00 p.m. organ recital cost $20 a head and imposed a dress code.  as
mass was starting i couldn’t even walk out from underneath the narthex
to snap a picture of the organ, but i can say that i set foot inside the
basilica the next time i see a photo of its elaborately carved,
stunningly beautiful altar.

i quickly made friends with the shuttle bus driver, as i noticed that
his tip sign started in english, repeated itself in french, and said
thank you in, what? spanish.  my few years of conversational spanish
paid off, as i found out that he was from chile but had lived in
montreal for nearly 30 years with his family, and loved it.  he seemed
very happy to speak in his native language, especially with a non-native
speaker, stopping in mid-sentence for me to fill in the appropriate
vocabulary word.  apparently my pronunciation is good, as he told me
that i spoke very well. he told me, in spanish, how extensive the
underground network of tunnels had grown from just the metro into a
full-fredged system of corridors for shopping and travel, as most of the
larger downtown buildings were connected so that residents could avoid
the -40F winters just as houston’s tunnels allow its residents to escape
the texas heat.  he also pointed out each time we passed over one of the
six highways burrowing beneath downtown montreal.

my mom wanted to see chinatown again so we drove around after eating
dinner, and we also returned to peel street so i could snap photos of an
edifice i saw on the tour.  the plaque by the door announced it as a
distillery, but it looked more like an apartment building for emo kids
and goths who hadn’t yet taken the plunge into pitch black.  the dormers
boasted decorative metal work with a design split vertically – the left
half of a christian cross, the right appearing to be neptune’s trident
(or an ankh?  i’m not sure how much egyptian influence could have made
its way through france to montreal).  what drew me in the first place
was a large, front-and-center carving of what appeared to be baphomet,
or either a decidedly devilish-looking gargoyle, supporting the
building’s upper ledge and grinning down at passers-bye.  i keep waiting
for misfortune to strike now that i possess photographs of the building.

i have been appalled at the number and popularity of mcdonald’s here
in montreal, but *loved* the supermarche down the street from our hotel.
the market was small and crowded, but sold hemp oil, all things coconut,
and offered a wide array of dark chocolates and european cookies not
widely available in the u.s.  this morning i convinced my parents to
have our petit dejourner not at the mcdonald’s (we were going to grab
something quick to drive out to l’isle de st. helene), but to have a
sit-down meal in burgers and benedict across the street.  the restaurant
was located in the former hockey arena next to guido and angelina’s, and
offered a creative breakfast menu, full of omelettes, pancakes, waffles,
and crepes stuffed with salmon, italian sauasage, and other tasty things
i usually wouldn’t consider eating.  i opted for a bagle dipped in egg
batter, fried sunny-side down, covered in sliced bananas and strawberry,
and served with a honey-yogurt dip with slices of fresh fruits.  yum!
even yummier was the toast the waitress brought for our canadian maple
syrup, and my new favorite van houtte coffee, sold everywhere in
montreal.

i’m looking out of the hotel room’s picture window from the 17th
floor, savoring the city lights.  despite my initial reluctance and
grumbling about this trip, i’m very, very glad i came and simply wish
for more time to explore montreal.

the turning-out-to-be great canadian/new england trip of 2007, part 04

June 25, 2007 on 9:47 pm | In wanderings | No Comments

  we arrived in montreal late in the afternoon, as it took longer to
navigate the back roads from burlington than we had anticipated.  we
first checked into our hotel, then spent a good deal of time stewing
over the AAA guide book, trying to decide on a restaurant within walking
distance of our hotel.  thankfully the concierge asked where we were
going, called the restaurant we had chosen, and warned us that it was
much farther from the hotel than we thought.

he recommended instead a new italian restaurant just down the street,
very reasonably priced and in the old hockey arena, which is in
mid-renovation into a shopping and dining complex.  my mom ordered
lasagna bolognese as expected, and grumbled when my dad ordered the
spaghetti with vegetables – he used to tell her he had never seen anyone
make spaghetti with anything other than beef, tomato paste, and *maybe*
a few bits of diced onion.  neither complained about the dance music
blaring, and afterwards we drove around the city before night fell.

the turning-out-to-be great canadian/new england trip of 2007, part 03

June 25, 2007 on 9:43 pm | In wanderings | No Comments

we knew we were nearing canada when we started passing cars. maybe 30
cars, all stopped, the passengers wandering around the road to stretch
their legs as they waited to enter america. what a beautiful day to
admire homeland security warning signs as they wait to be interrogated
by the single lethargic customs official manning the single open border lane.
a truly american experience these days.

we approached the canadian customs window as the car ahead was just
pulling out, and a darkly beautiful french canadian woman grilled my
mom. where are you going. what are you doing. why are you here. any
tobacco products, alcohol, drugs, weapons? okay, enjoy your stay. i’ll
later decide the customs lady must not be from montreal, as the service
industry there is incredibly patient with english-speaking tourists.
still way better than what we’ll probably encounter when we return to
maine in a few days.

no sooner do we cross the border than we see a sign with an american
45-MPH speed limit crossed out by a thick red line, a sign beneath it
stating “the speed limit is now 70 kilometers an hour.” we’re in the
province of quebec. we speak french now.

my dad spends some time reading the french road and business signs,
then stews that he’ll need to know how to ask for a cup of coffee.
“kah-FEY,” i tell him, “je voo-DRAY un kah-FEY.” “s’il vous plait,”
my mom adds, reminding me that french is a very polite language. we
encounter our first french-canadian mcdonald’s, easily recognized as
such by the fleur de lis just beneath the golden arches, and we turn
in. no one needs to use the restroom, so we pull into the drive-thru.
a female, teen-age voice squeaks:

“bonjour! qu’est-ce que vous prendrez?”
“a coke, s’il vous plait, and a caw-FAY,” my mom says. the voice
instantly switches to english.
“a small coke, and a chocolate sundae?”
“no, one caw-FAY.”
“would you like cream or sugar for your coffee?”
“OUI!” my mom shouts, shaking her head no, “un caw-FAY!”

after a short silence, an older male voices confirms our order: one
medium coke and one small coffee. “there’s no telling what we’ll get,”
my mom complains.

the turning-out-to-be great canadian/new england trip of 2007, part 02

June 25, 2007 on 9:41 pm | In wanderings | No Comments

vermont.  a state i can say that i’ve visited, so i’ll never have to go back.
i’m reminded that stereotypes, no matter how cruel, are by and large
accurate.  the hotel’s playground consisted of a tree-house and sliding
board nestled just off the curb between the parking lot and an overgrown
field.  there was no fence, nor a bench for parents to watch their
children.  probably for the best, as sitting for any length of time
would probably get them some nice tick bites.

i don’t mean to come down hard on vermont, but it was even more rural
and unencumbered with culture than my north carolinian hometown.  the
people there love their kayaks, speed boats, and environmentally-sound
building practices, but it would take more than an abundance of ben and
jerry’s scoop shops to make me want to stay.

the turning-out-to-be great canadian/new england trip of 2007, part 01

June 25, 2007 on 9:38 pm | In wanderings | No Comments

  i hate flying.  i fly only if the trip would be impossibly long by
car.  i hate flying so much, i gladly drive from raleigh to orlando.
not only does it cost a small fraction in gas of what a round-trip
flight would cost, but i can have my car to drive around orlando.
i can’t drive to vermont in 8 hours.  by the time i reached vermont,
i wished i had tried.

RDU has never given me the impression of being run as a tight ship.
they spent millions on the beautiful new parking decks, then spent a
few months squawking with DHS in order to actually use them – they
were built too close to the terminals, and the laws changed *right*
after construction was completed.  but, their web site comforted me,
you can park in park and ride lots 2 or 5 for only $5 a day.  why
would you park in lots 3 or 4 for $6 a day when you could park in lots
2 or 5 for $5 a day?

why, because lot 2 is now employee-only, and only marked as such once
you turn into its serpentine entrance, and lot 5 is extremely poorly
marked, and its entrance is blocked by a rusty chain.  this is RDU,
right here.  so i drive the length of the runway back to lot 4 and
sprint in the 95-degree afternoon sun to catch the shuttle.  so far,
so good.  i had checked in the evening before and printed my boarding
passes.  i check my luggage, the lady affixes a sticker to one of my
boarding passes, telling me i’ll need it to get my bag in vermont, and
off i go to security.

the last time i stood in a line this long and this slow, i shot at the
evil emporer zurg and earned space ace status for repeatedly hitting the
secret hidden “Z” at the bottom of zurg’s control-o-tron.  a nice lady
barks at the crowd that they can’t bring *any* liquids on the plane
unless it is sealed in a plastic pouch.  they weren’t offering ziplocks
for sale, so i start to toss my little bottle of visine.  she stops me,
and scribbles her initials onto a piece of paper, along with the words
“eye care.”  i feel safer already.

RDU’s TSA checkpoint hadn’t changed a bit, what with long lines backed
up as people have to nearly disrobe in order to pass their belongings
through security scanners, then re-assemble themselves, despite the fact
that NOTHING EVER HAPPENS at these checkpoints.  has anyone heard a
story on the news about travellers bringing weapons onto planes without
the announcer wondering “just how” they got the weapons through
security?

i personally think the x-ray scanners are placed in airports by
computer companies offering a kickback to TSA officials who manage to
irrepairably damage any electronic equipment passing through.  i
literally had to catch my laptop as the TSA official turned the ramp’s
speed dial all the way to ‘rabbit’ and my macbook whizzed down the
rollers towards the vertical metal plate at the end.

a quiet black woman whose eyes belied her inner voice scowled at me as
i bumbled around at the gate.  they were boarding the plane by zones,
but it’s been so long since i flew and the PA speakers were so crappy
that i thought they were still boarding by rows, meaning that she had to
wait for me three times.  once as i realized they were calling zones
instead of rows, again as the crew member insisted that i needed the
boarding pass with the luggage sticker, instead demanding the one marked
‘customer copy’, and finally as i bumbled about deciding which seat was
actually mine.  don’t the window seats cost more money?  because some
indian lady was sitting in my seat.  by that point i didn’t care and
was happy to buckle my seat belt and get back into my book.

we touch down at reagan international right on time – 45 minutes. i
have a 3-hour layover, which gives me plenty of time to stroll between
the terminals to find my connecting flight’s gate.  no no, the signs
tell me, you must *exit* the terminal completely to reach the other
gates.  go back to gate 26 (where you came in) to catch the shuttle
to the other terminal so that you don’t have to go through security
again.  you don’t want to go through security in d.c.

i wait, read, have a slice of pizza, wait, read, call some friends,
wait, read, and then notice that the monitor over my gate no longer
displays my flight information.  a walk around to the departure board
reveals that the flight has been moved – back to the other terminal.
i hop back on the shuttle bus, as a crew member alongside me marvels
that the shuttle bus is still running as he rushes to catch a flight.

the bus ride is actually kind of cool, across the tarmac and among the
six or so planes parked between the terminals.  reagan int is a really
great place to be stuck, seriously, because walking from one side of the
windows to the other offers views of the jefferson memorial, the
washington monument, the congressional dome, and assorted d.c. rooftops.
the red warning lights blinking in the top of the monument are somehow
comforting.

my flight is delayed.  i only notice because the gate next to my
flight number kept disappearing, then flashing, then disappearing
again.  it shows up again as a different gate, this time merely at
the other end of the terminal.  i call my parents and tell them not
to wait for me at the airport in vermont, just to go to bed and i’d
call them when (or if) i touch down.  3 gates and 4 hours later, i’m
on the plane, and the flight is happening.  i’m on the plane, and it’s
really happening, to me.  eleanor vance loves to fly.

burlington, vt is cold.  and dark.  and my parents are tired because
midnight is waaay past their bed time, and i’m exhausted because i got
about 4 hours of sleep the night before, then spent most of the day
either doing laundry and packing or actually in transit^H^H^H^H^H^H
chasing the bouncing flight as it hops from gate to gate.

despite being exhausted from a great night spent out downtown, i had a
wonderful lunch at village deli on kildaire with a new-found friend, so
i’m already looking forward to returning from the trip. i dread what all
the text messages are going to do to my cingular bill.

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