Montreal So Far: The (Somewhat) Quick and Dirty

Shocker of shockers, my laptop isn't working properly. Don't worry...this isn't like my last trip to Canada where my motherboard went to the big Best Buy in the sky. I'm just not picking up a wired or wireless connection in my hotel room. However, my mom (who is also at the conference) does have a signal with hers. Go fig.

So since it's rather late and my brain isn't functioning at full capacity right now, I'll just give a bulleted recap of the events thus far:

• You always hear that, for an international flight, you should arrive at the airport at least two hours early. I did just that, and I still had an hour-and-55 minutes to kill after the security checkpoint. Thank God for my Nintendo DS.
• It was quite the opposite when I arrived in Canada and went through Customs, which had a Disney-like queue line (albeit one that moved relatively quickly). All this to prove that I wasn't smuggling M-80s or bananas.
• Once I arrived in Canada, I bore witness to one of the most confounding acts of wasted productivity I've ever seen. I paid for a round-trip shuttle to and from my hotel, Le Saint Sulpice (a name I have butchered at least five times already). Now follow me on this one. First, the bus driver (who we'll call FiFi) spoke absolutely zero English, so I had absolutely zero clue if I was approaching my stop or not. As it turns out, it was all a moot point, as the "shuttle" only took as to a bus terminal, where we had to get ANOTHER bus to the actual hotel. This is where we reach high levels of screwed-uptitude. FiFi pulled into parking spot #19. She told us (through a translator) that we needed to wait by spot #17 for our new bus. The Feefster then proceeded to pull out of spot 19, pull INTO spot 17, and pick up passengers who were GOING to the airport. Bear in mind that spot 19 and spot 17 were roughly 50 feet from one another. Finally, our new driver (who we won't call FiFi) pulls into spot 19 to take us to our destination. If you have a headache after reading that, all I can say...feel my pain.
• As I alluded to earlier, I seemingly overestimated the amount of English spoken in Montreal (i.e., there hardly is any). That may be a slight exaggeration, though I quickly learned that everyone automatically assumes you speak French (especially considering I'm much more frequently greeted with "bon jour" than "what up.")
• In case you were wondering (and I know you weren't), there are no such things as free refills in Canada. I keep forgetting about this fact until I get my restaurant bill and utter the words "Monsseur Fuck-air" under my breath. Oh, and there's no such thing as "complimentary bread" either...it's a damn appetizer.
• About 60% of the television channels in my hotel room are in French. You have not lived until you've seen South Park dubbed in another language. Not even Telemundo provided such quality entertainment.
• Despite the fact I've been to Canada once before, I'm still not used to the fact that my room's thermostat only goes up to 30. Seriously Canada...Celsius? C'mon now.
• Number of people I've seen that look like Gerard Depardieu: 3.
• Two days in Canada, and I have yet to hear one single person say "aboot." I guess it goes back to the whole "hardly anyone here speaks English" thing.

Well, that's it for now. Despite my usual pessmistic-sounding ranting, I'm actually having a fantastic time and, truth be told, it is an absolutely beautiful city. I'll hopefully be able to provide another update before I return to the States on Friday.

And, more importantly, hopefully I'll hear at least ONE person say "aboot."

Until next time...
Dan