Author: foxtongue

om nom nom nom

Something I can’t seem to get over is how much mind-bogglingly delicious food there is in Montreal, for incredibly cheap.

Today I’m breakfasting on left-over’s from last night’s heavenly Turkish dinner at Avesta, (2077 rue Sainte-Catherine Ouest), and the lamb and the lavash bread, (that they make fresh, right in the window), and the everything is still so tasty that it’s shutting down my ability to process any other input. David apparently just said something to me, but I was too busy communing with my food to even notice. Oh. My. Mercy. Is it ever freaking good. The lavash bread, especially, is an entirely thrilling experience, which sounds insane until you try it hot from the grill. All dignity vanishes as you stuff it into your mouth, your eyes closing in appreciation.

Yesterday we had the foresight to bring a Santropol Midnight Spread sandwich home to be breakfast. I’m not sure if we’ve ever had a better idea. I love Santropol’s sandwiches so much that I was actually disappointed that they were out of posters for sale. I want to be able to put up their advertising in my home. They are that perfect, that delicious, that absolutely addictive. If they catered a war, the war might end. “I’m going to shoot you. Mr. Enemy!” “Wait, have this sandwich first!” “Well, actually, this is pretty good. Thank you! You are my new best friend.”

And I got to have it for breakfast. In bed.

you must be kidding.. great. that’s just great.

www.readatwork.com

Listening to Christine‘s music in her beautiful St. Denis studio flat, the balcony door open, the sun shining down, I can’t figure out why it’s imperative we leave, and yet we must. Katie‘s wedding is this Saturday, and then October looms, and with it, the need for paying rent. We are quick blooming flowers here, due to vanish any minute. It makes me sad, in a far off sort of way, because I know I’m happier here, it’s far more beautiful, living expenses are seriously cheaper, (rent is how much??!?!??), and yet, I know I’m stuck existing awhile more in Vancouver.

Ah well. Once crisis at a time. As is, possibly only I will be going to the wedding, while David stays behind in Montreal, as Katie’s offer of a place to stay fell through at the very last minute. That way we only have to pay for one ticket, he can stay in the land of light and architecture with my friends who are now his friends as well, and I can brave the unexpected knocking on doors for a couch alone, which should drastically improve my chances. I’ve a proven track record of finding overnight lodging with friendly strangers in Toronto. David, not so much. Then, hypothetically, after the wedding, I come straight back, and we stay in Montreal until it’s time to go down to Toronto for Nuit Blanche, and our inevitable bus-ride home.

It all depends if I can find a place to stay at all. The ticket(s) have to be bought today, and yet, as of this afternoon, we still have nowhere. If, in a few hours, we still haven’t made contact with an available couch, I’m not sure what else we could do, except to split up and reconnect in a few days. Two people stranded in Toronto with luggage is a far more depressing picture than just me alone with an over-night bag.

www.writerhymes.com

oh, to stand tall, to stretch, to dream!

Things I Have Learned On My Summer Autumn Vacation 72 Hour Bus-Trip

  • If the bus contains a man who coughs with the sound of a wet rag being dragged through a dog, he will sit directly behind you.
  • Fresh fruits and vegetables do not exist. All food is fried.
  • All ice-cream parlours in Saskatchewan sell Fireworks.
  • People who Talk To Themselves are likely dangerous. Other good clues are an obsession with silly putty, matching camo-wear clothing and luggage, and unexpected children’s toys.
  • The Rocky Mountain glaciers are almost gone. This is incredibly scary.
  • Small towns contain odd statues of Big Things. They are not good Statues, or even interesting, they are merely odd.
  • Small towns only exist on the prairies as a tangential side-effect of the gravity around granaries.
  • There really is nothing for 50 miles in every direction.
  • Your Time will never be the same Time as when the bus leaves. And, in the same vein, breakfast is regularly at 4:10 in the morning.
  • Calgary smells like cinnamon.
  • Manitoba Bikers have progressed from being people who hit you with crowbars to people who dance to Barbie Girl in A&W parking lots.
  • Trees become exciting half-way across Canada.
  • Winnipeg becomes attractive under the threat of a Bus Strike.
  • Bus drivers are all jolly, except for that one exception to the rule. Even coffee does not help him.
  • Pin-ball machines are perpetually, mysteriously free.
  • Husky Station Restaurants remain the holy grail mecca of truck stop diners.