DAY TWO: I MOVE THE CAR FROM MCGILL TO VERDUN. TURN LEFT FROM SHERBROOK ONTO PEEL !!!!BAAAM!!!! WEEWOOWEEWOOO RED N BLUE LIGHTS. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SO EEEAASSSY. "YOU TURNED LEFT AT A STRAIGHT OR RIGHT TURN ONLY INTERSECTION." "OH SORRY. I'M NOT FROM HERE." "I'LL NEED YOUR DIVER LICENSE." $154 TICKET, NO WARNING, NO POINTS LOST. HE DRIVES OFF. THEY ARE THE SAME EVERYWHERE EXCEPT IN QUEBEC WE CALL THEM "COCHONS"
MONTREAL STILL HAS A BETTER SUBWAY SYSTEM.SARA AND I THE BEFORE THE ONE NIGHT WE WENT OUT TO A CHILDRENS BIRTHDAY PARTY WHERE I DISCOVERED THAT I AM OLDER THAN WATER AND UNABLE AND UNINTERESTED IN DRINKING ANYMORE.
DAY 4 HIGHLIGHT? I attempted something new in addition to something old. I knew I had to cut my losses and get out of there. Things weren't working. Montreal turned out not to deserve the pedestal on which I had placed it.
To escape I climbed the steep snowy face of Mount Royal. A serious hill in the centre of the island. After pulling myself through the snow packed stair cases which rose above the downtown highrises, I reached the climax and the sun came out.
I pushed north west towards the cemetaries, from there I discovered a great dome on the horizon. A dome I recognized and remembered as Saint Josephs Oratory, a place I had visited on my first trip to Montreal.
I climbed the staircase on the outside, got to the top and found the main entrance out of order. "Prochaine porte" a sign said. Through the next door way, after climbing the real mountain and the great staircase outside, an escalator was revealed. Then another. All the way up to the Basillica, automated escalators, after all that.
Weirded out, I pressed on. I had come this far. I made it to the main entrance to the sanctuary, I pushed inside to give it to God.
It was silent and enromous and smelled like aged concrete. It commanded your immediate attention. I slowly walked up the main aisle, trying to be quite in my big rubber boots. About three quarters up the way to the alter, !!!!!BAAAAAAMMMM!!!!! RED N BLUE LIGHTS The sun smacked me in the face with considerable force, through the huge stained glass windows above. I definitly felt it. It was time to leave Montreal. It was official.
I left the Oratory and headed for the Metro. On the way I passed Montreals version of Jameson Avenue. Degenerate buildings with for lease signs quaintly named, in this case for flowers. DINNER WITH SARA Then the next morning I got into the car and drove 5 hours home, all on my own. The drive was peaceful and at the end; roaring down the Gardiner Expressway through the core of my town gave me a new sense of belonging and reaffirmed my lessons learned. MONTREAL 2010