Marillion Weekend 2011, April 8-10th, Montreal, Quebec - Part 4

Part 4 – Monday, April 11th

I woke up to the sound of rain hitting against my window. I fell back asleep and then awoke to a rather loud buzzing/vibrating sound, like when a bus parks outside and goes into hibernation mode. I guess people just don’t sleep at the Days Inn Centreville. Well, at least, people don’t sleep on the lower level floors. Or, maybe it’s just me…who knows.

All three mornings I woke up feeling like I had a hangover and yet I hadn’t had an ounce of alcohol. It just goes to show how much sweating I did at the venue each night. It took about an hour for my water intake to start to balance out again and then, shortly after that, I had coffee. Yeah, go figure.

I looked up alternate Delta flights online, just in case there was a chance of taking an earlier flight out. I was then reminded of how I ended up with this late flight in the first place…it’s one of only two non-stop flights to MSP with the other leaving too early in the morning for my taste. It appeared I was stuck with leaving at 6pm.

I wasn’t feeling the greatest, still experiencing that faux hangover feeling. Still, I didn’t want to sit around in the hotel lobby, Starbucks, or the airport for multiple hours. No, instead I decided to hoof it, as they say, once again towards the Basilique Notre Dame, the only other sight that I really had my heart set on seeing this time around. This meant venturing down from my hotel towards Vieux Montreal, the old original city area, a place I hadn’t yet ventured in to.

I feared that it would be yet another long walk that would completely tire me out. Instead, I actually got sort of rejuvenated by the walk and came alive more and more as I started to inch toward the old city. The weather was supposed to be 70 degrees but it looked much more like rain with a fierce wind blowing. I’d say the temperature was closer to 50 degrees when I left the hotel.

The Basilique Notre Dame

I found the Basilique Notre Dame and it was practically right next to Starbucks. It’s never a bad idea to know where the nearest Starbucks is after all, especially if it starts raining. I walked around the outside of the Basilique and was quite impressed. I wasn’t sure if it was “open”, per se, since the place was completely deserted. I then decided to try the door and voila! It opened! And so, I ventured in to find an older man sitting behind a counter reading a book, expecting payment. I paid the $5 admission fee and he politely said in a massive French accent, “…pictures okay…”. Ah, good to know!

The exterior of the Basilique was pretty impressive; the inside was even more grand. It was completely on par with the cathedrals that I had seen in England. This was definitely worth the price of admission and I ended up taking lots of my usual weird angle shots.

The inside of the Basilique Notre Dame

After leaving, I decided to walk around Old Montreal a bit more and perhaps find where the river runs along the port. The more I walked the more fascinated I became. Wow. It wasn’t long before I realized my biggest error of both trips to Montreal…not coming to freakin’ Old Montreal! Ugh! This was right up my alley and here I’ve spent both of my trips amongst 10 million college students, rushing around back and forth on the metro and surrounded with cigarette smoke!

Yes, here were all the adults! I HAD been wondering, after all, since practically everyone I passed was between the ages of 18 and 25. This was also evidently the area where all the good restaurants were. F***! No, make that a double! Here, I’ve eaten at all these goofy locations (minus Aux Vivres, which was quite awesome) when I could have been eating in REAL restaurants just a half mile from my stupid hotel! Ah, yes, my friends…the egg was on my face (no pun intended for you breakfast lovers).

A random street in Vieux Montreal

I continued my walk, looking at the various sights, taking weird pictures, and reading the various menus that I came across. Yes, I really had missed out. Sh*t, now I HAD to come back. If I do return, I most definitely will be spending my whole trip down in that area.

It was then that it started to rain (again). It just seemed to be my luck, really. At first, it wasn’t a big deal, just more or less the moderate drizzle from the day before. Then, it started to pick up and I started to notice the rain falling in streams off my hat. It was time to head back to the Starbuck’s for awhile. See what I mean? Always find a sanctuary, whatever sort you prefer.

A port at Vieux Montreal

No sooner did I enter Starbuck’s, order, sit down, etc., but the rain stopped and a bright yellow sun filled the sky. I truly felt that Montreal was somehow laughing at me but I’m usually a semi-decent sport. Heck, I laugh at myself all the time.

I ordered a very small dessert thing that looked interesting. The girl that took my order said, “Oh, you want the whoopee pie?” I looked at her with a silly look. “I don’t know…do I?! I guess I do!” I really wanted to make a crass joke but feared it wouldn't come out right so I kept it at that. The dessert basically consisted of what looked like two red velvet cookies with icing in the middle. After picking it up and eating it, it stained my fingers and napkin lipstick red. I became paranoid that my lips were now lipsticked as well. I decided to go to the restroom, just to make sure.

Another street view around Vieux Montreal

I debated about going to Chez Suzette, a crepe place that was supposed to be pretty good that I just happened to pass by unsuspectingly. I looked at the menu and it certainly sounded great. Why couldn’t I have found this place two days ago? I wondered if I should go in and eat rather than waiting to eat at the airport. It had only been a few hours since I had breakfast, though, so it would end up being more of a force feeding, if you know what I mean. But heck, the food was bound to be a million times better than the airport. I pondered but then resisted. Instead, I returned to the hotel, collected my suitcase, and headed off to the bus stop for the 747 Express bus.

When the bus arrived, I promptly boarded and swiped my card, all the time hoping my STM pass would still work (which it did), and walked two steps to the luggage rack. The bus driver immediately made a rocket start and I almost fell three rows down the aisle. Apparently he was in a major hurry.

The bus ride was incredible (again). If the metro doesn’t make you sick to your stomach, the bus most certainly will. I’m not sure where these drivers get their driving instruction but man, they simply must be instructed to drive as erratically as possible. The extremely rough pot-holed roads didn’t help either. Had I eaten at Chez Suzette, there would have been no guarantee that I would have been able to hold it down.

At one point, a young girl got on the bus and sat directly across from me. She had a mostly eaten apple in her mouth…not being held by a hand, mind you…just her mouth, kind of like a pig at a pig roast, but for some reason she looked more like a fish to me because of the way her eyes were bugging out. She held it in her mouth for at least 3 minutes, never making any gesture to grab it, all the while staring around with big eyes over the core at the people around her as if we were the ones with the apples in our mouths. I must say that in all my years I’ve never seen anyone do this before and I wasn’t sure if I should be afraid or laugh hysterically. Once she took the apple out, she took the last few bites of it and then promptly fell asleep. Bizarre!

It was then that the guy next to me started asking me questions in French. I tried to make it clear that I didn’t speak French and that just seemed to make him ask even more questions. On top of that, he started getting mildly angry. I was completely thrown off. Luckily, another guy stepped in to the one sided conversation and cleared things up.

Back at the airport, it was the usual hokey pokey trying to get through security. In Canada, you have to go through multiple check points for some reason and then you actually go through US Customs at the same time prior to boarding the plane. I never can understand why they make us hold so many different items and expect us not to lose anything. Mind you, you’re already holding your suitcase, probably a carry-on, and then you’ve got your passport, your customs form, your boarding pass, etc. It’s pretty freakin’ crazy.

In the customs line, there was a rather large recreation of the Statue of Liberty which made me giggle. It seemed kind of silly, like we needed a reminder that that’s where the statue was located. I couldn’t help but jokingly wonder why they didn’t have something like that on the US side for Canadian departures. Imagine a large moose beckoning you or some Canadian Mounted Policeman.

My dinner choices were as I expected: very slim. I had only $9 Canadian left and so that even further limited my options. Believe it or not, I went to Burger King for a BK Veggie meal. Bad choice! There was literally nobody there and only one woman working the registers. She was clearly upset about something having to do with work and I heard her yelling something about “…HR expects me to wear…!” When I walked up, she didn’t even acknowledge me. I ordered and she practically threw my drink cup at me. Motioning to her left, she said rather abruptly, “The soda fountain’s over there.” Yikes! Just think what they did to my food!

That left me with literally just change in my pocket in Canadian money. I went to the Currency Exchange and asked if he had a minimum. He said, “Let me see what you’ve got and I’ll tell you.” I laid out what amounted to about 85 cents. “No, no, there’s a five dollar minimum,” he barked. Maybe I was delirious but I would have sworn that was exactly what I had just asked him. “If you don’t want it, there’s a donation box over there,” he said, pointing down the hallway. And so, I donated my change to a cause that I couldn’t read since it was only in French. Hopefully it was something I agree with!

I sat down and waited to board my plane. Just then, who shows up and sits practically right next to me? Yes, it’s the Sasquatch guy from the previous night’s show. Apparently he lives in Minneapolis as well. I couldn’t help but think of those “Messin’ with Sasquatch” commercials for Jack Link’s Beef Jerky. I briefly debated about talking to him but every time I tried to catch his attention, he seemed to be looking away or right through me. He also seemed mildly annoyed and, well, it’s best not to tick off Sasquatch, based especially on those commercials.

After that, it was the usual flight home. You know, cramped seating, germ filled air, numb butt, you name it.

It was, again, one heck of a weekend, in one sort or another. It seemed like a really long weekend, actually, and it completely exhausted me in more ways than one. What can I say? Marillion are always amazing and they were nothing short this year, even if the crowd wasn’t always the greatest. As for Montreal, it really is a pretty interesting town that I do recommend visiting. If I do return, I hope to maybe finally eat at the right restaurants in the right part of town. Heck, third time’s a charm, right?