I awoke the next morning to the sound of something pounding. In a bit of a daze, I started to come around to what one might call consciousness. It was then that I realized that someone was rapping on my door very persistently.
I managed to yell out a garbled, “What?!” The answer came back in French, of course, and I could only assume that it was someone there to do the housekeeping. I answered with a loud and slightly annoyed “No thank you!” With that, the person went away.
I tried to fall back asleep but that just didn't seem possible. It was pretty bright in the room and now I was wide awake due to all the housekeeping drumming on my door. And so, I gave up and decided to start the day.
As I got out of bed I realized just how dehydrated I was. This was bad news since I wanted coffee at the same time which ultimately dehydrates you even more.
I whipped out my laptop and found the nearest Starbucks. It wasn’t exactly near, mind you, but not entirely far either. It was within walking distance but a bit of a hike, just the same. I cleaned myself up and ventured out in search of it.
Venturing up Rue St. Denis, I walked through an area that I had never been before filled with all sorts of little restaurants, shops...you name it. I glanced at a few menus but nothing really seemed to be terribly extraordinary, although you never know until you try it.
I finally found Starbucks. The walk seemed farther than I thought and I was definitely ready for some liquids. I went up to the door and nearly walked into it when it didn’t open. I pulled at the door a couple times and it was locked. Hmm… Yes, there was another door around the corner! There were a bunch of people sitting outside watching me trying to get through a locked door with the usual look of confusion.
I grabbed a big bottle of water and ordered a medium coffee. The transaction was fairly painless although I was shocked when my coffee came to me without a lid. I made a silent deduction but figured I'd ask just the same. “Are the lids over there?” I asked, pointing towards the small counter where the creamer and stirrers are, pretty much already knowing the answer. The girl behind the counter shook her head, more or less wondering how I didn’t already know that.
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| These signs were all over the city. I found them kind of amusing. |
I found the sign to the bank but couldn’t find the actual door. All I found was a strange little ramp that looked like it led up to a service entrance. Sure enough, that ended up being the door to the bank.
I went up to the ATM, hoping it would be in English, which it was, and proceeded to withdraw some much needed cash. When the transaction was done, the machine thanked me and never spit out a receipt. Ugh.
It was around noon time at this point and I was getting pretty hungry. I always get a bit anxious going into the metro the first time, even though I’ve done it countless times before. I’m not sure why that is. Perhaps I have metro-a-phobia, who knows. I just kept telling myself, “Don’t fear the metro. Don’t fear the metro.” It became my momentary mantra.
There really is nothing to fear about the metro except, as always, the fear of looking like a total idiot when you’re not used to how to do things. I’ve learned in my modest travels to different countries that, in order to travel successfully, you just need to accept that you WILL indeed look like an idiot for awhile until you get acquainted with things. And, of course, somebody like myself just seems to be a magnet for looking like an idiot.
This particular metro station has a very long walkway that curves around a few times. I passed a busker that was singing some terrible song. I considered paying him so that he’d stop but figured that wouldn’t translate correctly.
Upon reaching the metro gates, I silently hoped that my 1 day pass still worked like it should. I approached the turnstyle and with my left hand swiped my transit pass. A bright green light went off and made a slighty pleasant beeping noise. Hurray! It worked! I walked forward to go through the turnstyle and quickly came to a dead halt; the turnstyle would not turn and was like running into a wall. I was confused…um…it glowed green…um… Here’s where that looking like an idiot thing that I mentioned comes in to play. I tried swiping my card again and quickly got a red light with a “you screwed up” sort of noise. I stood there a moment, thinking. Wait…maybe I need to pass through on the left side of the swiper! Maybe?! I repositioned myself and sure enough, that was the issue. I then looked around me and saw the usual small group of onlookers watching me in mild amusement and confusion.
The metro overall is a really funny place. There’s evidently an unspoken rule that while riding on a metro that you can’t ever smile nor make any sort of eye contact. Everyone sits in a total daze, staring at some non-existent object, and tries their best to look as unhappy as possible. Is this what mass transit is all about? I’m honestly not sure. It certainly does create some strange situations. If you’re a straight man and you make eye contact with a woman, you’re perceived as a potential pervert or predator; if you make eye contact with a man, you’re probably gay. If you’re a gay man and you make eye contact with a woman, you’re still potentially a pervert and a threat; if you make eye contact with a man, well, I’m not really sure what happens then. Either way, it’s probably best not to make eye contact period.
I had decided that I would journey out to a place called Maamm Bolduc that I found online listed as having the best poutine in Montreal. The place was only a couple metro stations out but then would be what I thought would be a short walk. They were listed as having a great breakfast but I wasn’t sure if I was up for eggs and such at this point since it was closer to 1pm.
The walk ended up being much further than I thought which seemed to be the flavor of the day. To make matters worse, it started to lightly drizzle and I kept hoping it wouldn't all out pour while I was stranded walking. The walk was mostly through a residential area and occasionally I passed various people on the sidewalk. I really wasn’t all that sure where I was going but I did occasionally glance at my map to make sure I was on the right track. I just couldn’t figure out how a restaurant would be located amongst a bunch of apartments and such.
At this point I was starving. My coffee was gone and quite a bit of my water was gone as well. Would I ever eat?
I finally found the restaurant, tucked in with a bunch of other various businesses and such. It was a small place on the ground floor of some sort of housing structure with a lot of tables in a small sized patio area. There were a few people simply standing around outside, looking on in total confusion, and I wasn’t exactly sure if they were in a line to be seated or what. I couldn’t find any actual organization nor did anyone from the restaurant ever come up to these people. I decided to take charge and simply walk inside.
I found a small table and had a seat. The place was pretty crammed and the next table was literally only about 3 inches from mine. I was also sitting right next to the cash register which provided a lot of noise and traffic.
The menu was huge. I’d have to guess that it had about 30 pages in it in book form. I kept going through it over and over, confused on what to order. Luckily, it was mostly in English.
My server finally arrived and I ordered a tofu dog. “We’re all out of those,” he said. Clearly he was in a hurry since he was only one of two servers in the place. “I do have veggie burgers.” I wasn’t really in the mood for a veggie burger but I just went with it. I also ordered the vegetarian poutine in the smaller petite size since it had been said that the larger size was enough for four people.
It took quite awhile to get the food and I did what I could to keep myself occupied. When the food finally arrived, the veggie burger looked more homemade than, say, a Gardenburger, and the poutine was extremely large for being a “petite”. The food was good, decent quality and all, but didn’t exactly knock me out or anything. I remain fairly neutral about poutine to this day.
Once I was done, I had the pleasure of making the walk back to the metro station. This wasn’t a totally bad idea since I was pretty full and needed to walk some of the food off anyhow.
By the time I got back to my hotel I nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Wow! I do more walking in Montreal in a single weekend than I probably do in 6 months! Now, to be fair, I could actually ride the bus around town on the side streets but I really have an enormous phobia about buses. I just won’t go there unless I absolutely have to. Don’t ask me to explain it; I don’t get it either, really.
On the way in to my hotel I made a point to get a “Do Not Disturb” sign. I also asked the question that had been on my mind for awhile. “Are movies here in English or in French?” The answer was could be either and make sure you ask first which wasn’t very reassuring.
I should mention that two years previously I was having some sort of issue where I, well, couldn’t stop going to the restroom. This time around I seemed to be the opposite. Evidently, Montreal and my gastrointestinal system don’t get along very well.
I laid down on the bed and hoped to just veg awhile with some television. Only about 3 out of 30 channels were in English which quickly narrowed down my choices. I found a baseball game to watch but only half of the screen was displaying on my small 4:3 television. The picture was perfectly cut that I couldn’t even see the score.
It was then that it dawned on me that I had my laptop with me. Ah ha! I could stream Netflix! Hurray! I can watch whatever I want! I quickly logged in and went to the Netflix site just to get a large banner saying, “We notice that you’re currently in Canada. Netflix products cannot be streamed outside of the USA due to copyright reasons.” How deflating.
It was now around 3pm and I had quite a few hours to kill before the show that night. I had eaten my first meal late enough in the day that I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to eat again before the show. Great planning on my part! So, what to do… I knew I didn’t want to walk and sightsee anymore. I couldn’t watch TV. And so, I decided to check the movie listings. I found an AMC Theatre that was right off the metro line and found that both “Of Gods and Men” and “Jane Eyre” were playing in about an hour’s time. Per the website, the former was subtitled in English and the latter was in English.
I was really quite exhausted but wasn’t sure if I could actually sleep. I debated and debated in my usual fashion. By the time I decided to go the movie, I was now running late and needed to get moving pretty quickly. Such is my life.
Once again, I was walking to the metro station, half in a daze. It was then that I realized that it really is much more important to choose a hotel that’s very close to the metro versus being close to the theater that Marillion performs at. A good mental note for next time, that is, if I do decide to come back.
I got off at the appropriate metro station and it started to look familiar. I had been here two years prior and remembered how confusing this station was. You basically get off in the heart of what looks like a shopping mall and trying to find your way out is a bit of a trick. I did the best thing I knew to do; follow the natives since they know the way.
I left the shopping mall area and crossed the street. I saw a huge sign saying AMC Theatres but couldn’t find the entrance at first. After sorting that out, once inside, it was quite strange. The movie was also just starting per my watch.
I purchased my ticket and it ended up being $13.50 Canadian! Yikes! I went through the little gate over to the concession stand. I ordered a medium popcorn and coke. The popcorn looked smaller than a small in the US. I guess we really are gluttonous in America.
The toppings are different as well. The primary toppings were liquid cheddar cheese, sour cream and onion, etc. It took me awhile to find just plain old butter which was hidden off to the side.
Next, I had to take an elevator…not an escalator…to get to the movie theater itself. It felt very odd standing inside an elevator holding a small bag of popcorn and a coke, staring at other people.
I entered the theater and just took a seat near the front. No one was around me…perfect. It seemed like I had made a good choice after all about the movie.
Once the movie began, I realized that I was hearing a ton of noise from passersby in the lobby. Apparently they don’t close the theater doors when the movie starts. This became very annoying and distracting.
Even worse, though, someone kept coughing literally every 10-20 seconds. No joke. I could have set my watch to it. I looked around to see where it was coming from. Literally down the same row as mine but on the opposite side of the theater sat a mom with a very young girl. It was the girl that was coughing. Well, she did that, no kidding, through the ENTIRE movie! Cough, cough, nose slurp, cough, nose slurp, cough, cough… It was nearly impossible to focus on the film.
About midway through the film, I heard very loud voices from out in the lobby area talking, slowly getting louder as they were apparently getting closer. They came in to our theater, talking at peak volume the entire time, all the way through the small hallway and in to the theater. Once completely inside the theater, a man’s voice said, “Is this the right theater?” again at full volume. They started having a conversation until someone in the theater shushed them up. Wow.
As soon as the movie ended, I raced out of the theater and into the restroom. I was, as usual, now pressed for time to make it back to the hotel, change, freshen up a bit, and then make it to the nights’ performance on time.
Back to the metro I went and barely missed the train. Upon waiting for the next one, I heard a distinctive cough behind me. I turned around and it was the freakin’ mom with her coughing/slurping daughter again! When the train I arrived, I made sure to get in a car that was far away from theirs.
I got back to my hotel and shortly after left again for L’Olympia. As I walked I noticed that the crazies were definitely out this night. Montreal seems to be filled with them! Especially around the Berri-UQAM metro station, I passed multiple people talking to themselves, staring at walls, yelling at invisible people, and who knows what else.
I barely walked into the theater and the lights went down, as if on cue. Evening #2’s performance was underway!
This show turned out to be absolutely incredible, completely on par with the shows from two years prior. I basically stood in the same area as always and seemed to be surrounded by people who were really into the show versus playing air guitar, etc., like the night prior. The show was also very long, like around three hours in length including the very short intermissions. Marillion as a whole really puts a lot into these shows and it’s quite incredible to see.
During the first intermission, a guy was going through the audience handing out lyric sheets for the song “Jigsaw” which is an old tune off of “Fugazi” back from the Fish era. He kept saying, “The next song is audience participation. H doesn’t sing!” The weird part is that I think everyone thought he was just some quack audience member rather than someone that worked for the band so therefore few people took the lyric sheets. It wasn’t until the band came back on that it all made sense.
Asylum Satellite #1
Born to Run
Cannibal Surf Babe
Deserve
Especially True
Fantastic Place
Gazpacho
Half the World
(I stood for intermission)
Jigsaw (audience singing)
King
The Last Century for Man
Marbles III
No Such Thing
The Only Unforgivable Thing
Pseudo Silk Kimono
Quartz
The Release
Sugar Mice
Three Minute Boy
Under the Sun
A Voice from the Past
The Wound
(X stood for eXtra intermission)
You’re Gone
Zeparated Out (a Zeppelin infused version of “Separated Out”)
On my way out of the theater I distinctly heard someone doing a heck of a lot of swearing. Sure enough, I turned around and it was the Toronto guy again. I’d recognize that swearing anywhere! “That was f***in’ awesome! Can you f***in’ believe that?! They played f***in’ ‘Sugar Mice’! I mean, they played f***in’ ‘Sugar Mice’!” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
I also ended up following the same guy back to the hotel from the previous night. We both got into the elevator, looked at one another, and then he asked, “Did you just come from the show?” I said, “Yes. Didn’t I run in to you last night as well?”
I got into my room and drank my now nightly 5 Alive, trying to replenish some of my lost fluids from sweating so much again at the show. I turned the TV on and did my best to find something to watch briefly as I tried to mellow out. I found Saturday Night Live but I personally dislike that show. I searched for something different and found “The Exorcist”…AND it was in English. Now that’s more like it. What a day!
