Yak sausages, snowy Ottawa and quirky Quebec

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We've conquered two big cities since we last spoke - there's just no stopping us, we've snuggled into the accepting bosom of Ottawa and we've kissed the streets of Montreal. We'll have to dance with Vancouver next year.

We did indeed end up getting a free lift from the horsey home of Brian and Chris all the way to Ottawa - conveniently right up to the doorstep of our shabby, but homely looking bed and breakfast. We spent two nights in Ottawa. On the first day we arrived, we ended up getting a free tour of Ottawa from a friendly Belgium guy that served us our lunch in a sandwich bar! He finished his shift as we finished our sloppy messes of delightful fast-food, and after asking for directions to  the nearby cinema, he took us on the bus (whilst explaining the bus system, the history of Ottawa, and that when it gets too cold your ear-lobes freeze and break off) and took us all the way to the door of the cinema. This one kind act made such a difference to how we saw the city, and really brightened up our day. That evening, we treated ourselves to a Thai meal (as a reward for the strenuous week of horse labour) and went to see a film at the cinema. Coming out of the cinema to a light sprinkle of snow kicked off our weekend to a somewhat magical start.

On our next day a cheese omelette made for us by Neera, the short Asian mother hen that was keeping us fed in her hotel, gave us energy to begin our day of being tourists. Walking around the beautifully built city, we made no effort to hide the fact that we were foreign: chunky camera around the neck, 3 stone larger from layers of clothing, oohs and ahs at the big buildings. Although it felt wonderful and new, there was something about it that felt very similar to London. The houses of parliament, the canals, there was even a miniature big Ben! So after we were bored with posing in front of statue figures we moved on to spend the rest of the day reading newly-bought books in coffee shops, wandering around shopping malls, and enjoying skipping around hotels we will never be able to afford as if we were guests.

Ottawa is a great place. Good views, amazing historical architecture, culture, and a generally gentle feel to the place. There was even a homeless man who had a cat with a coat on, sat loyally by his side everyday in the middle of a manic city street. He obviously liked the city too.

On our third and final day we said goodbye to the city and met Rosemary, our porthole into the next world of adventures.
Rosemary is an artist. She has lots of wiry hair blowing in the wind, she has rings with moonstones, and she has a trunk full of yak meat that every week she attempts to sell at the Ottawa farmer's market - which is good for us, because it meant a free lift. 
Two hours away from Ottawa, sits a wonky house in the Laurentian hills. In that house lives Rosemary, two faithful Anetolian's that bark to keep the wolves away, an excitable border collie unsuitably given the boring name of 'Ben', around five cats that wail if a door is shut (even if they don't desire to be on the other side of it), that sit in bath tubs waiting for a human to switch on the tap so that they can drink, and that flirt with the border collie until he tries to eat them whole.
Surrounding the wonky house of art is 24 yaks with their adorable children, wild horses, llamas, goats, chickens, a goose and a donkey. It really was something else.

Our experience there was very relaxed. It was by far the most beautiful farm that we have stayed on. The 722 acres meant that we really did feel away from anything. Unfortunately, we couldn't wander too far around the property as it was hunting season, and we'd probably get shot as neither me or Edd own anything florescent orange. Probably a good thing on the whole.
We were never asked to do anything that was really hard work. The jobs that we did included repairing broken sections of her wooden fence where the goats were escaping, splitting and stacking wood again, levelling out soil, feeding the animals, shelling fresh walnuts, driving tractors to pick up windfall, grooming and riding the horses (side note- still unable to get Edd on a horse), and baking bread- this time by hand, not by machine!
It was a really nice stay. Most of our stay was shared with another Wwoofer, a French speaking girl from Belgium. Although rather shy, it was nice to have a third player in card games.
Rosemary was a really interesting person to have met. She had lots of stories to tell, and it was amusing when she would talk to us for hours straight about how she, in fact, didn't like to talk much. Funny.
Although we were going to stay for two weeks, once we realised that Rosemary enjoyed our company, but in reality didn't have that many important projects that she needed helping with, we decided to cut our stay to a week and a half. We left on Tuesday 9th November. On our way back to Ottawa, we had a quick stop to make. As Edd's father, John, used to live in Ottawa as a boy, we had a search on the map for his childhood home, and the nearby home of his best friend. We realised that it wasn't far off from the route that we were making! We found it! Well, we hope we did... His old family home is now decorated with menacing biker stickers, sports a harley davidson postbox, and looks a little run down. Unfortunately, there was no one in when we rang the doorbell of his friends old home, so we couldn't confirm whether the family still live there. It was an interesting section of our journey though, and we took photos to take home for John. 
We then went back to Ottawa, and got a connecting bus to Montreal, which is where we sit updating the cyber world now.

Montreal is a place that we were told we must visit.
We found a cheap hotel for a good price here (admittedly it lies on the border of the gay and seedy strip club community, but it is fine) and we've ended up staying five days. We've walked A LOT! We walked the length of the city in search of 'The best bagel shop in Montreal' - suggestion curtesy of Alex Stone, and although we had achey feet, the bagels didn't disappoint. We then walked atleast another 5 miles in search of an old prison, which seemingly didn't exist. It wasn't where is was SUPPOSED to be, and no one in the nearby area had heard of it. Those bloody 'Guide to...' books. We were weary by then, so perked ourselves up by taking advantage of the new legal drinking age. We felt a lot wearier the next morning, but had made friends with a group of teenage Asian boys in Montreal for a United Nations, international affairs competition (you know the type), a guy that I rudely presumed was homeless because he had a beard, a bull terrier, and decided to sit next to us on a street step, and another guy from Leeds, England (he was a bit snobby though, we don't like English people).
Being able to drink here is nice. After not drinking much these past couple of months, a night out is cheaper for me and Edd... We've found a nice bar up the road from our hotel where the owner knows 'our usual' and where we can enjoy an ice hockey game live on the wide screen.
 Tomorrow, we are travelling to a place called Tweed, to another farm for a week. It will be good to fit in another experience before we leave, and it means we save some money by being on a farm. This farm is a blueberry farm, but it isn't the season at the moment. We are told that we will be helping out with household jobs instead, and other things, but not to worry, we will still be given the 'eco boot camp' experience.
What are we in for?! We'll let you know.

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