Montreal - after all

My brother has been trying to get to Ottawa since April, and has not succeeded. It seems that getting to Chicago is near impossible at the moment. Multiple rounds of last minutes cancelled trips happened, and he started to become known in our house as "Mirage brother".

The solution (until someone "sweeps out" the Chicago route) was to meet in Montreal, to which he can fly direct. And that was the plan for June 4th. As an added bonus Thomas came up from New York as well. We made arrangements to meet up Saturday morning close to their hotel.

Out of the house at 7 am, we made it to Dorval Airport's construction zone by 9, where Fred and Thomas were waiting for us. Thanks to an SUV lent to us by the garage (while the photographer's car is a "guest" there) there were no space issues, and no one had to be strapped to the roof of a Smart car. Probably illegal too........

The first order of business was a cup of coffee. There was a problem with the water supply in the city of Dorval, and there were signs all over not to drink the tap water. Definitely elsewhere then! Off we went to Rockland Shopping Center, conveniently located, and in possession of plenty of parking. We found a Starbucks, and then we found an unoccupied set of couches at the side isle of the still quiet mall.

Time to catch up, compare Ipad apps, and hear all about Lysistrata Jones, the play for which Thomas did costume design.

After a good gab, we had a stroll through the mall, much improved after the expansion into the space previously occupied by the now defunct Eaton's. A general sprucing up appears to have also taken place, and the place no longer looks tired. Instead it looks hip and airy, with lost of light. I find a purse I looked at before, but now it is on sale for 40% off. Yes please!

There is only so much merchandise we can peruse, so we got back in the car and made our way to the Plateau to buy some bagels at the St-Viateur bagel factory. A bakery just does not get more stripped down than that. A good part of the front of the store is taken up by bags of flower. Then there is the production area, (kneeding station, boiling pot, oven) a cash, and one single refrigerator with some cream cheese and lox. No place to eat, no frills. Yet they are the premier bagel place in Montreal, and Thomas told us that a deli in New York has their bagels flown in from this place. Their website offers daily shipping to the US!

For the rest of the day, each time we got back in the car, it smelled heavenly on fresh warm bagels.

The next stop was Old Montreal, where we parked near Pointe-à-Callière, and went in search of a brunch-y type restaurant. We strolled along de la Commune street in the sun, and settled on a covered patio on Place Jacques Cartier. Were ordered chicken sandwiches with brie and roast vegetables, French onion soup and nachos, and I have Niçoise Salad with seared tuna, and capers the size of cherries. I always thought that capers were pickled immature flower buds, but these looked more like small figs.

Pointe-à-Callière in the distance, seen from Place d'Youville

The photographer was seated with a great view over place Jacques Cartier, and was easily distracted by goings on. There are street acrobats, cartoonists, musicians and there seemed to be wedding parties absolutely everywhere. He's just itching to get it on film.....that is, in zeros and ones......

 A nice ride for a special day.

We took a stroll up the street and across to the Champ de Mars behind city hall where archaeologists are busy exposing (and restoring?) the old city walls. The interpretive boards placed at the site were in French only. At the fountain next to city hall we found a wedding photographer trying to get that perfect shot.

Old city walls with "new" Down Town in the background.

On we went to the Marché Bonsecours and it's cute boutiques, and had a peek in the Notre Dame de Bonsecours chapel next door. We then had a leisurely stroll along St-Paul street which is conveniently partially closed to traffic from 11-5 in summer, and eventually ended up back at the car.

We drove up to the lookouts on Mount Royal, one looking east towards the Olympic Stadium, (sarcastically referred to as the big "O"), and the other looking over Down Town from upper Westmount. Then we drove to the back of St-Josephs Oratory, and climbed onto it's balconies to admire the view south west. Caterers are setting up drink tables on the balcony, and we are temporarily confused why? We climb the outsude steps to the upper church and find the graduation ceremony in progress for the Ecole Polytechnique de Montreal's engineering students. Will Montrealers ever truly be able to hear the name of that school without thinking of what happened there? I centrality can't and scan the audience from behind the doors to see if there are a lot of women. There are.

 The view west with the Olympic Stadium

View of Down Town from Mount Royal

View west from St-Joseph's Oratory

We walked through the rest of the complex, and by then it is time to consider getting a bite of dinner.

We made our way back to the west island via the lake shore, and marveled at the continued improvements along all of the stretch. We chose Il Centro and are not disappointed. Service is attentive, and the food is delicious. Somehow there are no mosquitoes on the outdoor patio!

 Not so mirage anymore.......

At this point it is time to drop Fred and Thomas at their hotel. They have to get up ridiculously early to catch their flights, and we still have to drive home.

Reunion part IV

The trip to Niagara Falls was a success, and we had no rain to boot!

The next day (Thursday) we sleep late. We plan to do nothing, except take back the rented car at the end of the day. We make coffee, and then some more an hour and half later, and gab, gab, gab about everything and nothing. Old times, things that happened since, people we knew and know, the immigrant experience then, in 1982 and now in 2010, (the really big difference being the internet and connectivity) news there and here, and even a little politics.

Diana Gabalon's "An Echo In The Bone" has come out in small size paperback, and since I have been eagerly waiting for this for a while, We make a small excursion to the local bookstore to pick it up.  Next to the bookstore is a Winners store where we make a thorough inspection of the summer purses on offer, but don't find anything we can't leave behind. No new wallet for me either, the old one is showing it's age but I am picky, I want specific pockets.

We eat a shawarma in the sandwich shop in the plaza and go back home. We return the car in the afternoon, and make the acquaintance of a couple of grouchy car jockeys in the parking lot, who talk to us while an intercom announcement is broadcast in the parking garage (great acoustics!), and when I tell them I can't hear them (three times) I am told to calm down. (Huh?) I feel that I am tired after the driving, but seriously, no one could hear them. Once car returned we stop by a grocery store for a few things, and to give Carla a taste of what it is like in this neck of the woods (expensive).

We roast a pork loin in the oven and have fiddleheads and asparagus with it for dinner. It's been a while since I ate fiddleheds, and I have a hard time to describe the taste. Sometime in the next little while I will buy fresh ones, to see if they have more flavour than the frozen ones. A little nutmeg livens them up.

After dinner we drive into down town and take the original "haunted walk" tour. The tour guide takes you on a pleasant 90 minute walk of a small area of down town. At various places she stops, and points out buildings, (and on one occasion a fountain) talks about the history of the building, and who supposedly haunts it and why. She is pretty good at disguising the fact that she has memorised all these stories, and does not suffer from telemarketers verbal diarrhoea. We walk through the more scenic part of business down town as the sun slowly sets, and finish at the Bytwon museum (yes, haunted) after dark. It is cool, but the rain holds off until we are back at the car. As a sceptic I think they should tax all the ghosts and make that whole national debt thing go away. They sure make you believe there are enough ghosts for that. We walk back along Wellington to the parking and manage to stay out of the rain until we drive home again, when the downpour starts.

On Friday we were planning to go to Montreal. Carla us visited there in 1983, and we were looking forward to seeing the place again and seeing what Carla remembers. Old Montreal has (of course) not changed that much, but Down Town has had some changes, and of course I know it much better now. Unfortunately it still pours Friday morning. It rains like ugly fall rain, and the forecast is for solid rain all day in both  cities. After much hesitating we scrap the trip to Montreal, and I am really bummed out about it. But I agree that it would have been little fun walking like drenched cats in a likely deserted tourist area. I can't believe how crappy the weather is this late in May! This is one of the worst spring seasons I have ever experienced here.

Instead we get in the car and visit two local shopping malls. First we go to Place d'Oreans, where  I have not been for a long time. The place is quiet and feels a little claustrophobic with the low ceilings. No go on the purse and wallet front here either. We have lunch at a Timmies in a nice clean and quiet foodcourt. We then decide to move on to Bayshore shopping center. Airier, less claustrophobic, and more fun stores await. The elusive summer purse is also there, but in the wrong colour. But I finally score the right wallet with the right pockets. I see a pretty water colour  skirt at Laura that I go back to get it a few days later.

We go home and BBQ chilli-lime pork steak, and eat tomatoes, sweet onions and cuccumbers with that. We have vanilla ice cream and fresh raspberries for dessert. At some point during our discussion I pull out the file with letters we wrote. Carla re-reads them from the beginning, and when her husband texts her, she informs him she has just married him. Too bad we could not see his face.

The next day is departure day.

The line-up at the airport is brutal, mostly due to one group with ticket problems who keep one counter busy for the entire time we wait to make it to the check in counter, which is over 45 minutes. We say goodbye there at check in.

I am hoping that in the near future she will be able to accompany her husband if he needs to visit Montreal,and we can still do our excursion in Old Montreal.

When I told people around me that I was going to spend a week with someone I had spent no real substantial time with in 28 years, they were all wondering how that would work. Would we still have things in common? Would we want to kill eachother after two days in such close proximity? Doing this is what most rational people would call a recipe for disaster. Familiarity breeds contempt, as the saying goes.

We have had different lives with very different expriences. One of us left out home country young, the other stayed. One of us became a mother, the other did not. One faced serious health problems, the other has not. We have very different extended families, which have impacted us differently. We chose different carreer paths, and of course we have different different tastes and priorities.

But even with all that I really enjoyed re-connecting with her. The proof of that has to be the endless gabbing that went on. There were no awkward silences. Each night I had a sore throat, because I am no longer used to pronouncing the sharp "g" sounds needed in Dutch.

I once again experienced the essence of my own cultural background. I realised how much I have adapted to this culture in the last 29 years. Many little things were pointed out that I had forgotten. I laughed at expressions I had forgotten. But also there was the general feeling of familiarity of a culture and it's sober pragmatic attitudes towards a great many things.


And we are both sick of people telling us that drugs are legal in Holland. (Not the case, sorry!)

Carla suugested that we plant a flowering perrenial shrub in the garden, so that we have something to remind us of this experience for a long time. The weather during the week she was here unfortunately made it impractical to do it together. But this past  weekend I planted a beautiful rose bush in the backyard, with six thick buds on it.

I think we may have the first flower this weekend.

Reunion Part III

On Wednesday morning, after a breakfast of toast and jam, yoghurt, fruit and granola with coffee and juice, we check-out of the hotel and drive to the butterfly conservatory. In a greenhouse-dome filled with plants, water features and the odd turtle, you walk on a path while butterflies flutter all around you. As soon as we walk into the greenhouse a butterfly lands on Carla's shirt, but I am not fast enough getting the camera out to capture it.

One of the most beautiful things in this place is a butterfly with blue wings, that looks quite different when it lands. It immediately folds it's wings, and the outsides are brown, and many have mean looking owl eyes on them. When it flies, it flutters so fast there is no way to capture it and still have the picture be sharp. This photographer has managed to get a decent shot, but it is nothing compared to the beauty you see when they fly.

 Mean looking owl eye.

When they sit there are often many together.

Butterflies feeding on ripe fruit.

 For some reason quite a few of the butterflies have damaged wings. Perhaps the school groups walking there are not reading the "do not touch the butterflies" signs.  We spend a good amount of time trying to capture the elusive blue butterfly, but we have little success. At one point we come across a father who has placed his six or seven year old daughter on a high rock, and is trying to get her to extend her arms hoping that butterflies will sit on them. The poor girl is terrified by the height, and I feel sorry for her.

 Damaged butterfly on staghorn fern. Photo credit: Carla

Once outside we skip the gardens of the Niagara School of Horticulture, they are not really planted yet, and I have a sneaking suspicion I know very well what kind of flower we will see there at this time of year. We continue on back to the falls and stop at the whirlpool rapids to see the gorge and the water from above. No one is taking the cable car over it yet.

The whirlpool rapids at the bend in the river. The cliff on the right is the United States. 

Photo credit: Carla

We once again park at our favourite spot, but the guy is back, and gives us a stub, again. Cheers, he says, again. We walk back to table rock and stand in line for the box office for the Journey Behind the Falls. It turns out we could have just gone directly to the elevators with our adventure-passes, but there are no signs indicating this. We are issued new ponchos, yellow this time, and taken down in the elevators into the rock behind the Horseshoe Falls, where tunnels lead to an observation platform, and to openings behind the water.

Right at the thundering water. Photo credit: Carla

The exit to the platform next to the falls needs serious repairs, it has a very decayed look. Some repairs have been started on the upper level, but there is a lot to do. It must be very difficult to make the repairs with the constant spray of the water.

 Creepy-ish exit onto the observation platform. Photo credit: Carla

From the platform you can see the old building of the Ontario Power Company generating station right in the gorge. This has been decommissioned since 1999, and would make a spectacular site for a restaurant. Investors.....anyone......? (Tsk, is it really up to me to point this out?)

The tunnels take you behind the curtain of water of the Horseshoe falls. The falls are slowly but surely eating away at the rock, and eventually will eat at these tunnels.Everywhere we go we are told that 12,000 years ago the falls were 11 km downstream. You have to wonder how these tunnels were carved, and especially how the ends were finished with all that water coming down.

Behind the horseshoe falls. Photo credit: Gergely Vass via Wikipedia Commons

Off we go to Niagara's Fury, located on the upper floor of the table rock complex. Carla is smart and suggests we don't eat until after this "ride" style attraction, just in case it makes us queasy. There are warning about heart and high blood pressure sufferers possibly voluntarily skipping the moving platform. Here we are again issued blue rain ponchos and taken into a room where we are shown a cartoon narrated by among others Luba Goy, (her voice and speech patterns unmistakable) about the creation of the falls and how they slowly but surely move upriver. (I have not figured out who voiced the polar bear, though he sounds very familiar.) After the cartoon you are taken into a room and placed on a large grate with poles with handles and told to hold on. When the show starts it actually snows big real flakes in the room, and you see an ice age projected on the screen. When it rains, you get rained on. When the glaciers break, and fall in the water, you get splashed with water. There is thunder and lightning and the platform moves. At the end they take you over the falls as if you were a bird. Worth doing once, no chance of getting queasy, but a little too loud.

Now that we were good and damp, (lower arms and shoes) and the stomach is still stable, it seemed a smart idea to get some sandwiches at Timmie's and sit in the sun to let our shoes and sleeves dry a little. Once we have eaten our lunch and dried somewhat, we walk back to the car. We have a peek in the free Floral Showhouse, of which one side is is full of hydrangeas. The other side is a permanent greenhouse with all sorts of plants I could never hope to keep alive at home.

 Hydrangeas in the Floral Showhouse. Photo credit: Carla

We once again drive back to the White Water Walk, and this time are successful in getting on the elevator to the base of the gorge to walk a quarter mile of wooden boardwalk by the side of the river watching the class 6 rapids go by. The lower platform is partially closed for repairs, but the gum wall is completely intact. (I actually think it is funny.) I can stand and look at this water for hours. It is very calming and restoring just to stare at it.

Rapids of the White Water Walk. Photo credit: Carla

Once we leave this place it is time to head back home. Traffic is pretty smooth until we enter the Don Valley Parkway and do the Toronto-stop-and-go-tango until we reach Ajax. Once through Toronto and close to Trenton we want some food, and not Mc-Do's, so we get off the 401, and onto Hwy 2 east, hoping to find a Swiss Chalet or the like. In a small town I go the wrong way at a confusingly signed split in the road, and eventually I have to ask my way back at a convenience store.

After some time we come upon a Kelsey's and eat ribs and a steak skillet. We go through Trenton and see the military base, and eventually get back on the 401. After one more gas stop somewhere past Gananoque, we get home at about 11 pm.