I Made It!

As some of you know, yesterday did not start out well, and as the plane was about to land, I found myself wishing I could turn right around and go home. Then two things happened: as the plane touched down, all of the french-speakers around me (and probably all the french-speakers on the plane) burst into applause; next, the little girl seated in front of me looked out the window and shouted bon jour, Montréal! I realized then that if the natives were this happy to be back home, it must be a good place. Things began to look up.

The taxi ride from the airport was the most uneventful (i.e., least terrifying) I have ever experienced--the driver never went more than ten miles over the speed limit, and, to top it all off, he was friendly!

My hostel, Le Sous-bois, is located in a great neighborhood, right between Notre Dame Cathedral and Place Jacque Cartier. It is a terribly hip place, and everyone here is a LOT younger than I am. Also, the bunks are equipped not with actual mattresses, but with inflatable ones (Aerobeds!), so I am essentially sleeping on an ice cube coated in rubber. Still, it is clean, and most of the aforementioned teenagers are not American, which helps, but I am thinking I may have to reconsider my accomodations in Quebec City. I think my hostelling days are officially over (all it took was one rubber mattress).

So I started my morning with cafe au lait and pain chocolat at the coffee shop next door. My barista was handsome and amiable and, upon learning that I live near Seattle, wanted to know all about Starbucks: how many are there, are there any coffee shops besides starbucks (private ones), what do the locals think of it, etc. (note: this is a french keyboard and I cannot figure out how to make a question mark). Then he asked, do you want a good cafe au lait, or an excellent cafe au lait (question mark). Obviously, I wanted the excellent one, which he promptly prepared for me while sharing his views on why Starbucks sucks.

Next, I walked along Rue Notre Dame to Marchè Atwater, Montréals (note: the apostrophe key does not work either) giant public market, where I spent several hours gazing longingly at imported olive oils and vinegars (looks like I will be checking my baggage on the way home...), giant hunks of every kind of cheese you can imagine, tubs of seasoned olives and pickled vegetables, and enormous baskets of about 500 kinds of bread. I made my way back to the hostel (on the subway this time, as the map had made the market look much closer than it actually is) with a chunk of cave-aged gruyère, a petite bagette, and two small containers of olives. I am nibbling on what is left of those as I write this.

Other things I like about this city: the people are VERY friendly and there seem to be very few Americans here (although there are lots of Australians, and I have to say that they are nearly as bad as we Americans are when it comes to loudness, crankiness, and outright refusal to learn even one word of a foreign language).

Tomorrow I will report on the much-talked-about light and sound show at Notre Dame Cathedral and this evenings dinner.

Lots of love!