Entry tags:
If there's no con, it must be Tuesday
Woke up early this morning, realized I didn't have to be ANYwhere by 8, 8:30 or 9 a.m. and promptly went back to sleep. After a leisurely second waking, shower and an accidental viewing of Avatar in French while Steve was searching for the local weather (calling for rain, were the Montreal weatherbeans, which it was, with a 60% change of thunderstorms). We wandered out to the Steak Frites in the rain, where I indulged myself with a warm cinnamon bun topped with apples, and a side of ham which I split with Steve, to help along his buttermilk pancakes and fresh fruit. And coffee. My, the coffee in this city is nice. Iced tea appears to be a foreign concept, but most have been willing to try.
The plans for the day, our vacation day, had been that Steve would go to the planetarium and I would go to the botanical gardens to pay my respects to the ring-tailed lemurs. Alas, I got cold feet -- the garden is some distance from the hotel. As getting lost is something of a talent of mine, I was pretty sure I could be counted on to lose the way back to the hotel, which would have been OK, had I the vocabulary to ask directions. Alas, my French consists of three phrases: "bonjour, ""merci," and "Je ne parle pas français," none particularly useful in the construction, "How do I find the Westin across from the Palais?"
By the time we'd mooched through breakfast, the rain had stopped. We wandered up behind the Palais and disconcerted some folks at an art gallery for a while, then walked a little further, up into Chinatown. The Dickinsons had told us that there was a koi pond at the Holiday Inn, so we went inside to view the koi, which was very pleasant. Outside again in the increasingly warm and sunny day, we walked west along an east-west alley, admiring the shops, restaurants and bakeries. We stopped at a kite shop and at a market, where Steve bought a jar of hoison (hoysin?) sauce, left Chinatown by the north gate, walked across to the Place Guy Fauvre (which I have no doubt Utterly Misspelled, if not Misrepresented Entirely), explored the belowstairs for a bit, toured the garden and arrived in the sweet bye-n-bye at the Maison Kam Fung.
This may have been the single strangest dining experience of my life (yes, my life has been sheltered). The place was huge, and noisy. You sit at a table. Women push carts up to the table and shout incomprehensible things at you, occasionally shoving equally incomprehensible dishes under your nose, in an attempt to tempt your palate. It was touch-and-go for a few minutes; almost, I rose and fled (I am claustrophobic to a certain degree -- noise and crowding trigger fight-or-flight). Happily, about the time I decided I needed to leave, a pushcart arrived with spring rolls on offer. I agreed to have some, and the day was saved; from that point on, it became an adventure, and much easier as it went along.
After lunch, we walked back down to the Palais, opting to cut through its climate-controlled interior rather than walk 'round the building in the humid heat. We gained our room at the Westin after a short detour for ice cream and now I am sitting in the chair by the window, watching the rain and listening to the thunder while Steve naps.
Anticipation was enjoyable, if disorganized. I got to talk to people, volunteer at the SFWA table, and view the art show. My voice didn't give out until this morning, so that worked out well.
The plan at the moment is to leave early tomorrow, release the housesitter to her life and see what two weeks' absence has brought us.
What's everybody been doing these last couple days?
The plans for the day, our vacation day, had been that Steve would go to the planetarium and I would go to the botanical gardens to pay my respects to the ring-tailed lemurs. Alas, I got cold feet -- the garden is some distance from the hotel. As getting lost is something of a talent of mine, I was pretty sure I could be counted on to lose the way back to the hotel, which would have been OK, had I the vocabulary to ask directions. Alas, my French consists of three phrases: "bonjour, ""merci," and "Je ne parle pas français," none particularly useful in the construction, "How do I find the Westin across from the Palais?"
By the time we'd mooched through breakfast, the rain had stopped. We wandered up behind the Palais and disconcerted some folks at an art gallery for a while, then walked a little further, up into Chinatown. The Dickinsons had told us that there was a koi pond at the Holiday Inn, so we went inside to view the koi, which was very pleasant. Outside again in the increasingly warm and sunny day, we walked west along an east-west alley, admiring the shops, restaurants and bakeries. We stopped at a kite shop and at a market, where Steve bought a jar of hoison (hoysin?) sauce, left Chinatown by the north gate, walked across to the Place Guy Fauvre (which I have no doubt Utterly Misspelled, if not Misrepresented Entirely), explored the belowstairs for a bit, toured the garden and arrived in the sweet bye-n-bye at the Maison Kam Fung.
This may have been the single strangest dining experience of my life (yes, my life has been sheltered). The place was huge, and noisy. You sit at a table. Women push carts up to the table and shout incomprehensible things at you, occasionally shoving equally incomprehensible dishes under your nose, in an attempt to tempt your palate. It was touch-and-go for a few minutes; almost, I rose and fled (I am claustrophobic to a certain degree -- noise and crowding trigger fight-or-flight). Happily, about the time I decided I needed to leave, a pushcart arrived with spring rolls on offer. I agreed to have some, and the day was saved; from that point on, it became an adventure, and much easier as it went along.
After lunch, we walked back down to the Palais, opting to cut through its climate-controlled interior rather than walk 'round the building in the humid heat. We gained our room at the Westin after a short detour for ice cream and now I am sitting in the chair by the window, watching the rain and listening to the thunder while Steve naps.
Anticipation was enjoyable, if disorganized. I got to talk to people, volunteer at the SFWA table, and view the art show. My voice didn't give out until this morning, so that worked out well.
The plan at the moment is to leave early tomorrow, release the housesitter to her life and see what two weeks' absence has brought us.
What's everybody been doing these last couple days?