That's Karl from Germany ordering some Chinese food. That morning we went to
the Faubourg on Rue Ste Catherine which is essentially an overrated food court.

 

 

Karl and Graham. Karl was cool, unfortunately he only stayed at the hostel one
night and relocated to the old city.

 

 

Me and Matthew. We got into a interesting discussion about American foreign
policy over lunch, which pretty much amounted to Bush bashing, and how
Americans re-elected him to office. (I gave them a lesson in how the electoral
college works). We also established that the UK wasn't any better
because Tony Blair was Bush's bitch.

 

 

A monkey riding a horse... that's just strange.

 

 

That afternoon, Matthew and I headed to the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts.
It was standard museum fare with special exhibits for Canadian artists.
Admission was a steep $15 so we were debating whether or not it was worth it.
Then we learned most of the museum was free except for the special exhibition
of Catherine the Great's chariot. But somehow, we found a way up a flight of
stairs that brought us only a few yards from the marvel... I have no shame.

 

 

Haha... an Apple computer in the modern design gallery? Where's the ipod?

 

 

This is what Canadian kids get to do for art class. In America, we just hope
there's enough manilla paper for everyone.

 

 

DOME! Matthew and I got into a discussion about education at the museum.
One interesting thing I learned is that history is not taught from a world
perspective in England. Which is surprising since they shaped much of world
history in the past few centuries.

 

 

Quite possibly my worst dining experience in Montreal. This chain of restaurants
was founded by Celine Dion, so you can imagine the service was rude,
the decor was tacky, and the food was forgettable.

 

 

mmm... raisin flavored.

 

 

It appears Graham did a little shopping while I was at the museum.

 

 

It appears my car wasn't towed while I was at the museum. The only thing that
stressed me during the trip was whether or not my car would still be there at the end of
the day. I parked it on the street in front of the hostel to save $20 a day. It seemed
okay, except that there was a sign that said something about Lundi and Jeudi which I
guessed were Monday and Thursday. I told myself I'd move it Thursday just in case, but
when Thursday morning came, all the other cars were still parked there, so I left it.
In the end, I had no tickets, no accidents, no vandalism, no towed car, no stolen car,
nothing to worry about.

 

 

In the evening, Graham and I went to a grassy area in front of a Church on
Rue Ste Catherine to play some Lumines, do some reading, and relax. That was
interrupted by the sudden approach of police cruisers and protesters marching
the street. Apparently, they were marching in reaction to excessive police force
used on people protesting for the cause of the First Nations earlier in the week.
"First Nations" are what Canadians call the Native Americans, because they decided
to be even more politically correct than us. Supposedly, it's a big social issue there
because they don't have to pay taxes and get a lot of benefits; similar to the issue
with illegal immigrants in our country. Good thing we killed all ours off.

 

 

(do you smell something?)
The hostel hosted a pub crawl every Thursday, and when Thursday night rolled around,
how could pass it up? We gathered in front of the hostel to take the metro to the Latin
Quarters where supposedly there was cheaper beer because it was frequented by local
college kids... yeah right... beer cost about $7 a pint... not to mention tip.

 

 

The first place we hit was a tiny bar that was crammed with sitting space. It was
funny because the guide from the hostel was Cantonese, so when she was going
around making sure everyone was comfortable and having a good time, she
reminded me of the tour guides we have in China.

 

 

Me with David from London and Iker from Spain. As with most Europeans I spoke to,
one of their greatest fascinations with North America was how straight the roads were.
"It's just block after block, everything is a square" (imagine that in a British and Spanish
accent, not the Spanish you hear at Wal-mart, Spain Spanish, really classy). Can you
guess how old Iker is? (the on the right)

 

 

This bar had one of the best atmospheres I've ever been to. The bar itself was 4 stories,
but it was open to a huge quadrangle with a ton of seating where people just mingled.
It got pretty chilly though, so Shane (an australian guy) and I headed inside, where I
learned that part time workers at Subway in Australia make $16 an hour. Damn!

 

 

This is the last bar we hit (yeah, 3 is a little lame for a "pub crawl"). It was a dance
club and cost money to enter, so a few of us headed to another pub with cheap beer
and pool. Iker is 28 by the way. Right... the whole grey hair thing threw me off too.

 

 

A couple girls who went on the pub crawl. They were from Paris, and were gushing
about how much they loved Montreal better because it's more modern. Grass is always
greener on the other side I guess.

 

 

That's Javier from Mexico City. He was here with his 3 younger sisters. He was
a really nice fellow and made it a mission to dispel myths about Mexicans. "Why does
America think we drive donkeys in Mexico??? I dont drive donkey! I drive a Civic!"

 

 

The girls from the hostel hosting the pub crawl, Victoria and Gayle (or something
like that, I totally forgot, she's Gayle for now). They decided to join us instead
of staying at the dance club, which was cool and all that, except that Gayle tore
up in pool. We played 2 on 2, Gayle and Javier versus Shane and me. Javier
was the weakest player of us all, yet they still won both times.

 

 

Me, Javier, and Shane. Nothing beats $10 pitchers of beer, except for sharing it
with new friends.

 

 

Rue Ste Catherine during the day.

 

 

Play your heart out sax man, you still won't get a dime from me.

 

 

It was another glorious day, and I really wanted to eat at one of the many
outdoor seating bistros that line the streets. (Grr... we need more of those,
Evergreen Walk doesn't cut it). We weren't hungry though, but we decided to go
have the espresso/icecream concoction I had a few days earlier. When we got
there, a nice surprise awaited us. The large street-side window was opened up
to imitate open air seating. Perfect.

 

 

While Graham and I were finishing our drinks, we saw Matthew walking by, and
he came in to chat. Upon deciding our next stop would be the Notre Dame Basilica,
we all stood up. Matthew had come in through the window, so he took a step back
outside. I was going to use the regular exit when suddenly, Graham jumped out the
window as well. Sure, it's a big window, but seeing two people walk out of a
restaurant through a window was absolutely hilarious. Just something you don't
see everyday.

 

 

The Hudson Bay Company is the oldest company in Canada, I actually remember
learning about it in 5th grade social studies class. It was chartered by King Charles II
of England and they traded fur with Indians and stuff.

 

 

Imagine being chased around the city by this huge cock.

 

 

I have no idea what this building is, but it's pretty.

 

 

Here we are headed up to the old city.

 

 

I pose, I can't help it.

 

 

A really beautiful statue.

 

 

I knew they had horse drawn carriages in the old city, but I didn't
know that Barbie was in town.

 

 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa...

 

 

The stained glass windows in the Notre Dame Basilica actually don't illustrate anything
biblical; they depict the history of Montreal. That's different.

 

 

There's a lot to say about the decorations, but let talk about my gut.
Holy crap, look at how it bulges out.

 

 

The pipe organ has a total of 4 keyboards and 7,000 pipes. Imagine playing that?

 

 

Quite incredible.

 

 

While we were walking around, we saw a group of people congregate on
the pews. It must have been to the guided tour and Graham and I joined it.
This picture is from the chapel behind the main church. Turns out the big
sculpture thing in back is the largest bronze relief sculpture in the world. I
would've thought it'd be in China or something.

 

 

After touring the church, we headed to Montreal's Chinatown. It was smaller and
less smelly than Boston or New York's China town. There are also a lot more
Vietnamese restaurants. Must be the French speaking Viet who emmigrated
to French speaking Quebec. (Vietnam was occupied by France for a century)

 

 

ooooo... anime figurines.

 

 

Oh no! Poor cheese.

 

 

I can leave wushu, but wushu can never leave me.

 

 

This is a church. It looked more like a court building. When Matthew
and I walked around to the side, it looked like it had the back of a church
with a front of a courthouse. We decided that there must be a courthouse
somewhere had the facade of a church because some blueprints got mixed up.

 

 

That's the arena where I saw hockey the other night.

 

 

Shane and Iker look like they're about to get in a fist fight, and
the girl in the middle is quitely making the dinner, not wanting to get involved.

 

 

Me and David-Smith. According to him, it's a very common name in England.

 

 

Girl from calgary cooking up a delicious vegetarian curry dish.

 

 

Matt and I shot some pool in the hostel basement.

 

 

That night, Mikael and Herve invited me to play some lasertag. This is the
same company that owned the laserquest on, Berlin Turnpike so the atmosphere
was exactly the same. The guy who was working appeared tired and pissed off.
When we entered that pre-game chamber, and he was telling us the rules, people
wwre obviously excited and were talking. "If you keep talking, you'll be kicked out,
so be quite and listen", he demanded. Dude, relax.

 

 

2nd place bitches!!! Must be all the Halo 2 I used to play. During the game, there
were a group of girls who were always together screaming and firing in all
directions. It was like a death trap walking in that area because you were bound
to get hit. I was seriously wishing there were laser grenades of some sort.

 

 

12th and 14th place... aww, don't cry.

 

 

Herve getting a late night snack at La Belle Province.

 

 

Graham had gone off to visit his girlfriend after we toured Chinatown
(that's was his reason for being in Montreal). We both got back at the
same time and decided we still had energy to do something. One thing
I had in mind was the Casino, so we hopped in my car and were off. I didn't
know how to get there exactly but had a general idea. After driving around
Montreal for half an hour though, we gave up and headed back toward
the hostel. We passed by the old city on the way and thought it'd be nice
to tour it at night, so we did that. It seemed dead at first but then we came
upon a street that was bustling with nightlife. Graham's not a drinker though
so we kept on going.

 

 

Pretty.

 

 

Scary. We walked by this several times, and actually thought it
was a man standing there at first.

 

 

While driving back, we saw signs pointing to the casino once again. I'd learn
to decipher the directions better on our previous attempt, and after debating the
idea, we gave it one more try. In a few minutes, we were there. The casino was
5 stories tall, but was nothing compared to Mohegan Sun or Foxwoods. This was
Graham's FIRST time in a casino, so I broke him in with slot machines. The whole
thing became surreal because almost every slot machine he tried, he'd win. "This
is great, it's like free money!", he'd cheer. Then I'd warn him. "Graham, you're not
always going to win. The odds are not in your favor." Next thing you know, he
pulls the handle again and wins some more. Oh thanks a lot God, you're so funny.
The funniest game happened at the last slot machine we went to. He put his quarter in
one of the machines that didn't have a pull-bar. And as he asked where the bar
was, I pushed the button. "Hey, that was my quarter!", he griped. It wasn't a winner.
"Sorry, okay, whatever we win here, we'll split", I said as I put in 2 quarters. He
pushed the button, and voila! We hit a pretty big amount (as far as slot machines
go). It ended up being an awesome night. And Graham, if you're reading this...
you really really won't always win!!!

 

 

My loot.

 

 

The room. Just beds and a common bathroom. I didn't have any fear of
anything getting stolen during the trip so I didn't lock anything away.
Maybe I'm just too naive and trusting, but until someone gives me a reason
not to trust, I'll continue giving fellow travellers the benefit of the doubt.

 

 

Berri-UQAM, a major intersection of several metro lines.
I finally learned UQAM stood for the University of Quebec at Montreal
at the end of the trip. It'd been bothering me the whole time.

 

 

Oh so stylish.

 

 

Interesting entrance to what I'm guessing is a drag show venue.

 

 

My lunch. I ordered a smoked meat club sandwich. Hoping... just hoping it'd
be something like Schwartz's. It didn't come close.

 

 

Some skater guys were pulling off tricks in the park.

 

 

This was the only time I saw the police in action on the trip. Must've been drug related.

 

 

A community of bums on the street.

 

 

Isn't it supposed to be Where's Waldo? Nevermind, I like this better.

 

 

(That's Fred, real nice guy, real live hockey fan)
That night, Mikael and Herve invited me over their friend Steve's house in the
suburbs. They were having a BBQ and watching the Canadiens' first playoff
game. Everyone there was bi-lingual, but had the natural tendency to speak in
French. It was funny how they'd get into these interesting conversions and
then one of them would have to translate everything to English for me.

 

 

Steve's girlfriend fixing up delicous strawberry salad (sorry, I totally forgot the
name). We also had a scallop appetizer, orange and chicken kabobs, grilled
shrimp kabobs, bread and cheese... and...

 

 

...oh so delicious cake. It looked like a plain yellow cake at first, but it had
almonds in it and tasted like marzipan... It was like heaven. During the dinner
party, I learned that "free healthcare" does not justify the exorbitant amount
they have to pay in income tax, sales tax (15% in Quebec), and all the other
taxes and fees they're dealt. I love Montreal... but screw living there.

 

 

Last night at the hostel... Oh no!! Everyone's fading away...

 

 

Some signage on the lobby floor of the hostel.

 

 

This was a poster on our floor of the hostel. It intrigued me every time
I walked past it.

 

 

Good-bye hostel.

 

 

My last meal in Montreal had to be poutine. So we headed to the McDonalds
and I ordered a McPoutine... yes... you heard me right. Don't be a hater.

 

 

Ahhhhhh... delicious. *sidenote - when I got home, I went grocery shopping
and bought frozen fries, mozzarella string cheese (which is a great substitute
for cheese curds when chopped up), and grazy, and I made my own poutine.
delicious

 

 

USA here I come. Crossing the border was a pain. Traffic was backed up
about an hour. Yet when I reached the gate, it only took 20 seconds and a
friendly smile to get through. Little do they know I was smuggling 8 Mexican
midgets in the trunk.

 

 

Gas was $2.70 on my ride up. AGHH!!! WHAT HAPPENED???

 

 

Lake George in upstate New York. I'll have to return some time in the future.
It was really scenic.

 

 

This is where I stopped for dinner. Actually, I just wanted to use the restroom, because
piss was gonna bust out of my bladder. It didn't seem right to go and not order anything
though, so I ordered a clamstrip basket. While I was eating, some old guy was talking
about the basketball game on TV. "It's not like it used to be", he lamented. He went on
and on about sports, and I found out he was on the 1968 Olympic team for fencing.
Interesing bloke... I must continue travelling and meet more interesting blokes.

 

 

Half way home, I got drowsy so I pulled off the highway to relax my eyes
in a parking lot. 2 hours later, I woke up dazed and confused and was even more
confused when my car wouldn't start. Crap, I had left the headlights on, and the
battery was dead. What compounded the situation was that I had to take a piss real
bad and my cell phone battery was almost dead. A bush behind a building solved the
first problem, but when I tried to call AAA, the number was not in service. I got
nervous. The sky was getting dark. No one was pulling over for help. The cell phone
rang; it was a substitution job call. I dared not answer it because a dead battery would've
been really bad. Then I finally got smart and dialed Information for AAA. After a few
transfers, (and fearing my phone would die at any moment), I got someone to come
jump start my car. The whole ordeal wasn't too bad. What made it bad was that the
guy used a portable jumper and got my car started in seconds. I have a portable
jumper... in my trunk... it just wasn't charged. The End.