Quelle Heure, Estelle?

Sun worshippers at the Place des Beaux Arts -- Photo from blogSpotter's collection

by blogSpotter
I don't really do travelogues, so I'll just talk a bit about my recent trip to Montreal, without going into stultifying dull trip details. Eric, my good friend from college, and I went to Montreal for 4 days this September. Following are some observations.

Profiling

At the Montreal airport, all visitors have to go through customs where you hand over your visitor card; it states that you're not bringing livestock or more than 10K dollars in cash. It's usually a rubberstamp procedure that takes 5 minutes. I was very tired and got tripped up on where I was going (Hotel Bourbon, Rue St. Catherine). Could remember neither at first and then confused them -- Hotel Catherine on Rue Bourbon? The agent thought I was suspicious and sent me to the Immigration services line. This line was mostly populated by Middle Easterners and other ethnic minorities. Of 50 people in line, maybe 5 were Anglo. Hardly anyone spoke English. The one customs official who spoke Arabic was fully occupied the whole time. When I finally got up to the window after 1 hour in line, I was asked a few additional questions about whether I had ever been before a judge for crimes in the United States. (Answer "no"). I was out of there after 5 minutes, but not so fast for the others -- it looked like they were getting searched on Interpol, asked into the next room, and maybe having cavity searches. I could only remark that this is liberal Canada doing all of this. Note to self -- remember name of hotel next time.

Montreal

This was my 2nd trip here -- last one was 6 years ago. Must say, the thrill is gone on the 2nd time around. The city is beautiful but there was really nothing going on. We did repeat views of the Old Port district, Mount Royal itself and the fashionable MacGill shopping area. I think that the profiling event set me on the wrong foot for the whole trip. Eric was very sympathetic. "They should profile anyone who stammers and can't recall the name of his hotel". Thank you, Eric.

French in Quebec

A bar patron told me that French Parisians are horrified by New World French. They suspect that Quebecois are actually speaking English. Such snobbery from Paris -- it's to be expected. Quebecois are actually fiercely proud of their French heritage. They really have to fight for it considering that ...

1) Their national government speaks English
2) They have a giant Bush-loving neighbor to the south that speaks English
3) Half of their TV stations are English language
4) Half of their popular tunes played in bars are English language

Mon Dieux!

Food Poisoning

I capped off the trip by contracting food poisoning at an Italian restaurant. One plate of fettuccine alfredo wreaked extreme havoc. I threw up for 2 hours on Saturday night, had Montezuma's revenge for the next 2 days, and am still not completely back to normal. I have to remark that this trip was rather awful in retrospect. Profiling and food poisoning will do it to you. Next note to self -- when you've already been to a city and seen its wonderful sites, they won't be so full of wonder the next time around. Will I ever go there again? Maybe, for a conference or something. I'll skip the French course (all the hospitality people speak English), remember my Hotel, and stay away from that certain Italian bistro that gave me the heaves.

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