Today I got up at o’dark thirty to get on a plane and fly to Montréal, QC. And fly I did. Armed, of course, with lots of caffeine. Although I usually end up watching something on my flights, I did not do so this time around, mainly because I was under the illusion that I might be able to manage some sleep (refer to the previous sentence as to see why this was an illusion). I did, however, get to watch a decent chunk of the most recent Fast and Furious movie, from about four different screens, because apparently everyone around me was watching it. That is, everyone with the exception of the one weird guy who was watching a documentary (pseudo-documentary?) of some International Sommelier Competition where a woman won for the first time. I’m honestly not really sure. It was filmed in a documentary style, but the the fighting and pettiness seemed rather to smack of reality TV. I also only know this because I’m a nosy woman who reads the subtitles on the screen of the person sitting in front and two the left of me, even when I’m not vaguely interested. When I was a kid, my dad said my ears reached around corners. Maybe my eyes do, too.
Anyway, thanks to the early start, and the fact that it was a direct flight, I managed to get here quite early in the day, which is good, because this is quite the bustling metropolis. The airport isn’t actually in Montréal proper, so, as per usual, that features taking a yet another hour long bus ride to get to where I need to be. There is an exclusive bus for that, as well as an underground line, but given the amount of luggage my traveling companions were lugging, it probably was a good decision not to take the underground, but I spent most of the time severely questioning that, because once we got into Montréal, we basically ground to a stop and inched along. The bus driver jumped over a half dozen stops (including ours) due to some street closures, and instead of dumping us off just as close as possible, he decided to stop at the very last stop on the entire route.
I must admit, after observing that the doors unlocked automatically every time the bus came to a full stop, and we spent quite a lot of time at a full stop, I seriously considered just hopping off. But no, because that would be rude, and there were other people I was technically with. So instead we inched along and I got a microscopic tour of downtown. It is actually quite pretty, but when you haven’t eaten for about ten hours, and the only thing you can do is sit and lean against someone else’s suitcase, you get a wee bit tired of it.
I did, eventually, make it to our hotel, but only after walking a couple blocks “because the bus won’t go that way” (lies, I tell you, lies). It is small, but cute, with nice windows. I neglected to take a picture out of this window, but I’ll try to remember to get one. We won’t be here long, though, so we shall see what happens.
Meanwhile, Happy 4th, everyone, and celebrate safely!