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Published: April 16th 2015
It's 23.37 on 15th April. What an adventure we've had in the last few days! This is the kind of thing you expect from a 5 month trip!
I'll start at the beginning. On Sunday Judie wanted to show us a few more sites around the area, so we all jumped in the car and headed first to the wharf that looked out over a bend in the St-Laurent river, with magnificent views of both banks. Judie told us that once a year there's a canoe race there, but it's always so frozen the competitors push the canoes over the ice most of the way - bar a strip of water at its central point. Apparently they have to time it as well, lest the canoes get mowed down by the huge oceanic liners and freight ships that make there way down the vast river through Quebec City, Montreal and end up in the Great Lakes. The next stop was the cake shop, to pick up our last sugar pie. The sugar pie from this cake shop is legendary, and by far the best cake I have ever tasted - sorry mum. When then looped up to an old church and
viewpoint in the neighbouring village, then through the country roads back home. Once back we amused ourselves packing until our parting dinner of steak and sweet potatoes, which was cooked to perfection, and of course the sugar pie. The rest of the evening we spent watching Wolf Hall in front of the fire.
We got up at normal time on our last morning (yesterday) at Ted and Judie's. After a quick breakfast we made our final packing preparations, which we all agreed was the best and easiest pack yet. Once done we found ourselves sitting around at 10 o clock without so much as a book and at least 3 hours before Louise was to pick us up. So, we dossed around until lunch at 12 (sausages, fried eggs and toast), then continued listlessly sitting around until 2, when the phone rang.
It was Louise asking if J&T could give us a lift up to Louise's mother's farm (who had just died - hence Louise was in Portneuf). So we hauled our packs into the van and set off. We arrived to see a topless, chubby man wearing small circular sunglasses sitting on a plastic chair in the drive. Louise
appeared from around the back of the house to introduce him as Guy (pronounced Gee), a French-Canadian friend from Montreal.
Then we saw the car, which had previously been described to us as a station wagon and I had imagined to be a large car with plenty of space for people and luggage. It was not. It was old, rusty and with no more space than a regular car.
We managed to cram all of our bags and the food Louise had given us from her dead mother's deep freeze into the boot, then set about trying to fit ourselves in. The 6th seat of the car was in between driver and front seat passenger, will no more space than a normal seat. Somehow I was volunteered to take that seat, so I wedged myself in between Louise on one side and Guy on the other. It was so tight that if I were to move my left foot left an inch I was stepping on the accelerator, which indeed happened on several occasions.
And so we set off, at around 3pm, to Montreal. On the way Louise maintained an almost constant narrative of facts and stories about the local
area, and had impeccable knowledge of everything from the age of the houses in the cities we passed to the migration paths and habits of the Canada and Snow geese that were making their way from the Carolinas to the Arctic. In fact, the arrival of these geese on the St Laurent seems to be the universal signal that spring had officially arrived - and was particularly late this year.
Anyway, after being on the highway for about half an hour, Louise turned off to take us, somewhat unexpectedly, to see a bison farm. We pulled up to a deserted car park, and actually had to get the owner out of his house to open up the shop/restaurant and show us around. In every alcove of the place were stuffed animals, from cougars to bears to moose, and of course bison. Louise very kindly bought us a selection of bison meat, and we drove over to the field to see if we could spot any real life bison - which we did, but sadly only in the very distance.
From there we headed back to the road, and quickly the car begun to shudder violently as we drove along. Louise
and Guy checked the tyres, which weren't flat - so we took the nearest exit and limped the car to a village about 3 or 4 miles away. Luckily we were pointed in the direction of the garage, and thankfully the mechanic said he would take a look at the car after he was done on the one he was currently working on. So we drove up to a nearby restaurant and sat eating Poutine and chatting for an hour or so, before taking the car back to the garage.
When we got there the mechanic quickly realised the problem to be a torn metal belt in one of the tyres, and luckily had a tyre to replace it with. So, before long we were back on the road.
We continued a little while down the road running along the St Laurent river, and after 40 minutes or so we pulled over quickly at a huge shrine erected on the side of the river, constructed to celebrate the freezing of ice bridges across the St Laurent, once the only way to get from shore to shore, bar boat. Moving on from there we settled into the journey proper, and I
- being as I was literally wedged between them - joined in Guy and Louise's conversation while the others napped in the back.
It was 9pm before we actually arrived at the flat. The flat itself is small, with a bunk bed with one double and a sofa to sleep on, and a cramped kitchen - but cosy and clean. It was not long before we were in bed and asleep, exhausted from such a long day.
We woke on the Tuesday refreshed and ready to explore the area. We are situated on a charming little street in what I guess is the student area of Montreal. Each flat as a little balcony out front, and the road is often lively with children playing and students going about their business.
In the morning we headed to the local Tim Hortons for breakfast, then to the IGA to pick up some shopping, and a thank you gift for Louise. Once we'd dropped this off at the flat we headed out along the local high street, Rue Ontario, to find a few more bits and bobs, not least SAQ, a liquor store - then made our way home to cook lunch.
The
day was warm and pleasant, and after lunch we sat about chatting and drinking beer - and totally lost track of time. In fact, very quickly it was dinner time, but unfortunately by this point we were one drink to far to be able to cook a decent meal, so instead grilled up a load of bison sausage.
Then came the jaegerbombs, having bought Jaegermeister and red bull at the SAQ, and quickly we were really pretty drunk. We didn't even make it out of the house at all that evening, and one by one we stumbled into bed clutching pans and pots just in case the nights drinks we to come up again (which, I'm sorry to say, was an unfortunate reality for Kate, and very nearly Rosie).
I think I will leave it at this particular high point for today. All I will say of today is that even now, at midnight, we're all still feeling a little worse for wear...
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Dr John HW
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Arrival in Montreal
Food (and more recently drink) tends to provide the points of reference in your blogs, with this one featuring food 'from Louise's dead mother's freezer' (a particularly unexpected gem) and bison steaks. What did the latter taste like? Hope you have now got over your hangovers and are enjoying Montreal. Keep your belongings safe. Really enjoyed your descriptions and photos of the mighty St Lawrence/Laurent seawater which lies on the same latitude as France/UK and yet which freezes in the winter. Just shows the differences in climate. The bison farm sounds a bit of a disappointment and I have an image of you all scanning the horizon and seeing specks in the far distance. Great description of the eventful journey!