Au revoir, Montreal - I'll be back

I leave tomorrow to go stateside, and I'm torn. I have had life-altering experiences here, but I miss home and the people there. Here's a brief summary of what's going on in my head right now, subject to change with more thought later:

Things I'll miss:

• Hurley's
• being legal to drink alcohol
• hot Canadian men
• eh
• easy access to great music
• beautiful architecture on every corner
• having sleepovers every night
• "SO bad"
• playing piano when the mood strikes me
• city lights
• staying up til sunrise
• authentic gourmet French food

Things I definitely won't miss:

• walking tours
• not being able to understand French
• immaturity
• being horrible at piano
• not having A/C
• weird breakfasts at RVC
• not knowing whether the shower will burn or freeze me next

Cheesy as it sounds, "Leavin on a Jet Plane" is playing in my head. I really am leaving on a jet plane, and I really don't know when I'll be back again, and I really do hate to go. I'll be back someday, I know it. It won't be the same, but then again nothing ever is.

Au revoir for now, Montreal.

Canada Day in Canada

When I first saw the itinerary, I was really excited about the timing of the trip because we got to be in Canada for Canada Day and the program ended on Independence Day so we could be back stateside for fireworks. Baller, right? Too bad all of Quebec pretends Canada isn't real. Canada Day here was actually Moving Day, which is when literally EVERY annually renewed lease ends/begins, so there were mad crazy amounts of people with moving vans blocking all the roads. Good thing we walk everywhere, or it might have actually bothered us.

I was very disappointed that there would be no occasion to wear my new Canadian flag as a cape and smear paint into the shape of a maple leaf on my face, so I settled for going to Brutopia for the organ jam once again. The guys bought shots in bulk and I tried a honey beer and watched them down their shots in rapid-fire mode. Here's the aftermath:

After a little liquid courage, Evan sat in on drums in the jam and did JMU proud!

This is the organ, complete with a monitor so that we could watch what his hands were doing - pretty cool, minus the Habs flag on the ceiling. I kinda wanted to burn it. Sorry not sorry.

This guy... rocking the guitar but far too much grease in his hair to be intentional.

... plus he was basically wearing bowling shoes. Oops.

Two raspberry blonde beers later, I looked outside to the bar across the street, and lo and behold - Canadians celebrating Canada Day! Mike and I ventured out, and I explained that we were Americans and we were SO happy that they were celebrating this most important holiday, and that documentation of their awesomeness was necessary.

Canadians love alcohol, and they love their country.

All in all, top night. Thank you, Canada/Moving Day.

the Roots, organ jam, and the Crazies

I went to an EPIC concert at the Jazz Festival and as per usual I couldn't take pictures, but there has never been a live experience like The Roots. They're Jimmy Kimmel's house band. I don't really know how to describe the genre - it's a little bit of hip hop mixed with big band mixed with awesomeness - but there's a little bit of everything for anyone to enjoy. On stage, there were 2 drum sets, a double keyboard-ist, a sousaphone who had more energy than anyone else, a BANGIN guitarist, a 5-string bassist, and their fearless leader on the mic. Evan and I arrived a little late, and therefore I was standing directly in front of 10 woofers stacked on top of an even bigger woofer. Evan had the sense to move toward the middle; I remained where I was and hoped the people in front of me would serve as a buffer for the extreme bass. EVERY time there was a low note my entire body turned to jello and I couldn't really move.

Concertgoers ranged from pre-pubescent boys trying to fist-pump with limp-noodle arms and older men in front of the woofers dancing with their ears completely covered to legitimate Jersey Shore look-alikes waiting for the PCP (popped collar police, duh) and fixing their hair every 5 seconds and drunk girls looking sloppy. Regardless, the guy next to me smelled/looked like he hadn't showered in weeks/months/years and his scent lingered on my jacket long after he had his (unwashed) arms raised at the concert. Apparently Canada has taken the European approach to hygiene - less is more.

We left the concert lifted and inspired, and headed for Hurley's/Brutopia for some Irish jigs and jam sessions. We got to Hurley's and the fiddle player was some random guy who didn't know the songs, so we left immediately for Brutopia and the organ jam. It was pretty cool.

We left for a minute to check out Upstairs but there was a cover charge if you weren't playing so we went back to Brutopia. Simon was there, and he decided he wasn't much into jazz and so I finished my apricot beer and we headed home to good old RVC to watch a film. Simon picked "The Crazies" and now Simon doesn't get to pick again.

bad theory, Roy Hargrove, and new wheels

Today was probably the worst Jazz Improv class I've had all summer. Not only was my voice on the rocks, but my brain was as cloudy as the sky tonight on my way to Roy Hargrove... but I digress. I woke up at 11:31, missing the complimentary breakfast that ends at 11:30. Everything was over my head in the class, seeing as I'm the only non-instrumentalist, as well as not being a music major and never taking music theory, so all the numbers and chords were just confusing and dumb to me. After class, I was sure that I was going to break down crying but for some reason it didn't happen. Miraculous.

Sheridin and I rushed out to find a restaurant, eventually ending up at one that had Guido in its name, chosen mainly for that reason. I got a pizza with tomatoes, artichokes, and spinach on it in honor of Allison Kinney of Biddiewatch and her love of artichokes. I must say, it was delicious. Artichokes ftw.

After dinner/lunch, I watched the movie "I Love You, Man" before heading out to the Roy Hargrove concert. I was cutting it close as far as time goes, and as I told my best friend, I really had no idea where I was going. I know the general area of the Jazz Festival, but there are confusing blockades and about a million venues, and EVERYTHING is in French. Also, a literal blanket of clouds came in swiftly and a huge storm broke out while I was looking for the theatre. I asked a few guards and they, of course, only spoke French. Then I asked at the information station, where I was told to go down some stairs and follow the signs... but these stairs led to boarded up doors and no signs. I decided to look for someone of my usual caliber - a bartender at a beer station. Naturally, she was probably the most helpful person I met, and directed me to Theatre Maisonneuve. Unfortunately, once I was inside the Place de Arts, I got lost again. I'm obviously brilliant at directions. Luckily, I found some bilingual Canadians who could interpret the signs and we made it to the concert with lots of time to spare (and by we, I mean myself and the random women who helped me). I probably should have just made arrangements to go with the guys who were going to the concert. Oops!

Roy Hargrove is an absolute BAMF and wore awesome Nike kicks with his tux, as well as what looked like classic Ray Ban sunglasses. His band was amazing, especially his piano player. He was absolutely amazing, and for me even managed to over-shadow Roy Hargrove, which is not an easy task.

Cirque du Soliel and Herbie Hancock

Today was our GHUM trip to Cirque du Soliel at the pier in Old Montreal. Sheridin and I were exhausted and running on very little sleep, but the show was amazing and enthralling and kept us awake. Ryan and I were chastised for taking pictures during the show, but really it wasn't our fault because the warnings were in French and there was no translation. Here are some of the sneaky pictures from Totem.

The band was hidden behind the reeds - SUCH a cool effect.

This was probably my favorite act. There was a couple on a trapeze and they were in constant motion. One wrong move and they would have fallen, without safety lines. They were perfectly coordinated, and in our obvious amazement, we attracted a little too much attention by taking pictures of them. Oops!

After Cirque, Sheridin and I grabbed a quick lunch (where we barely managed to hold conversation because we were so exhausted, and took naps until the evening's concert - Herbie Hancock. He was absolutely amazing. I particularly liked his bassist, probably in part because she was female and was rocking the bass-line harder than I've ever seen anyone rock a bass-line. Herbie had a great presence, which I could tell even from the balcony. It was a great start to my Montreal Jazz Festival experience, which will continue tomorrow with Roy Hargrove and his big band group.

L'Entrepont, single ladies, and late night bar-hopping

Friday night was our big group dinner at L'Entrepont. Chuck has been talking up the restaurant the whole trip, saying it was sure to be our favorite. I was feeling risky, and therefore opted to have escargot as my appetizer, and then there was the main course - kangaroo. Yes, as in those adorable animals from Down Under. I saw it on the menu and laughed, but then the waiter recommended it and I'm all about the recommendations, so naturally I went for it. It was strangely delicious but creepy at the same time. Our group took up about half of the restaurant.

After dinner, Melissa and I caught a cab to go to Hurley's to hear Solstice, but when we got there we didn't recognize anyone and there were no seats, so we left.

Saturday, I slept until after noon and then wandered the city. I stopped at Starbucks and did some reading and song-writing. The entire time, some random guy was watching me and writing. Sheridin and I think he was making up a story about my life. Regardless, I was creeped out and so I went to the bathroom and pretended to leave. Luckily he left, so I stayed a bit longer. 

Once hunger pangs set in, I hit up Reuben's for a chicken sandwich. The hostess asked me if my boyfriend would be meeting me and I laughed in her face. Then the waitress asked the same thing, and when I replied that I was alone she asked if I wanted a drink. Apparently, going to a restaurant alone when you're female means you've been dumped and/or you're an alcoholic. Oh wait, I forgot to mention that while I was in the restaurant it flooded. Perfect.

After dinner, I went back to the dorm and changed into pajamas preparing to stay in and watch Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I was a little over half-way through when Simon came in and insisted that I join him and the other guys to go bar-hopping. It was 2:30AM, and last call has typically been around 3, so naturally I decided to go. Because I'm apparently not a girl, I was given 5 minutes to get decent and then headed out. I was unaware that I was going to be the designated walker of the group, as the rest of them were a bit intoxicated, so I practically carried Simon out. The rest of them coped in their own ways. As expected, every bar we went to was closed, or wouldn't let anyone else in, so we wandered the city for a bit and then headed back. Evan, Sheridin, Simon and I watched FSM the whole way through (starting it at around 3:30... we have good ideas) and then Sheridin and I spent an hour talking, so we went to bed around 6:30. Oops...

bringing new friends home

We brought some new friends, Allison and Paige, to Hurley's with us tonight. I was expecting it to be just me that went, but it ended up being more than half the group, plus Simon and the new girls. It was a great time, even though Jonathan didn't play fiddle - there was a girl playing fiddle and a bass player instead. The newbies all loved it there, and we'll hopefully all be there this coming Saturday. Friday night (tonight?) we have our group dinner at the French restaurant L'Entrepont or something that spells like that would sound, and we won't get out til after midnight so we're already planning on missing a night at Hurley's. We discovered cidre tonight... it was quite enjoyable. It reminded me of Thanksgiving dinner and made me miss home a little until Celtic music started up again. Good times.

Quebec City for St Jean Baptiste

I have no words... but I'll try for a few paragraphs to describe yesterday.

I haven't been feeling too well lately - my randomly over-sized tonsils decided to swell up to a preposterous size, making swallowing difficult. This kept me from going too overboard during the day's festivities. After a 3 hour train ride from good old MTL to Quebec, we took taxis to our hotel. No big deal, just Chateau Frontenac, a 5-star hotel where the United Nations charter was signed.

Chuck took us for a tour around the city after we wandered down a random boardwalk and ended up going up probably close to 500 stairs and happening upon the fields where the celebrations would take place that night.

This was the view from the boardwalk.

This was the view from our rooftop terrace at the hotel. No big deal.

I have no idea what this is, but I thought it was pretty... so...

A legitimate short bus. The only difference is that this was an "Eco-bus" or something. I thought I was hallucinating.

Sheridin, Eric and I experiencing the mobs of people. For those who have SpringFest at JMU to compare it to, here'e the equation for the comparison of the two:

Quebec City = SpringFest + an ENTIRE CITY + $3 beer + some of the most patriotic people I've ever seen + GOOD live music - cops in riot gear - tear gas - weird/young townies

In other words, the entire city was shaking (literally) with the shouts of patriotic Quebec citizens and visitors (like us) as well as the resounding music. Every step taken through the streets, before even entering the venue, was like walking through a mosh pit at a metal concert... except when people ran into you, you didn't want to punch them - you just wanted to hug them and buy them a beer.

This is the city street during the day...

... and at around 2AM, which was WAY before the festivities ended.

One of the guys in the program realized he had lost his backpack at 6:30AM, when he woke up on a park bench, shirtless, without any recollection of how he got there. What was in his backpack? Lots of beers, clothes, and oh no big deal... his passport. (at least THIS wasn't me, Mom!)

officially a tourist

Sorry for the lack of posting - I haven't been taking pictures, mainly because nothing superiorly exciting has happened lately. Sunday, we basically did nothing except a few of us went to dinner and I got a burger made with beer so that was kinda cool I guess? Monday, we had classes and a spontaneous group dinner at an Indian restaurant and I have no idea how to spell/pronounce what I ordered but it was SO good and the left-overs were even better for breakfast. Afterwards, went to the bar with the ivy walls for $3.75 pints with our new British friend Simon and had a grand time.

Today, Chuck was in Quebec City (which I finally learned I've been pronouncing wrong all my life... fail) getting everything ready for when we go tomorrow for St. Jean Baptiste Day celebrations, so we had no classes. Naturally, I woke up around noon and then went shopping with Melissa. Her goal was to get silly souvenir shirts for her friends. Mine? A HUGE Canadian flag to hang in my room, ridiculous shirts that I will probably wear every day that have to do with hockey and mooses, and a perfectly perfect zip up from the McGill bookstore. If I had found souvenirs that people would actually enjoy, I would have gotten them. However, what we found ranged from oven mits that wouldn't last a single cycle of use and Habs gear (which I couldn't bring myself to buy, even as a gag gift) to wooden moose statues and stuffed animals that also functioned as pencil holders. If you're interested in any of these things, let me know (except for the Habs gear - you'll have to get that yourself) and I will go back and get you a wooden moose.

After shopping for a bit, we got crepes (which I've always pronounced cray-pes but is apparently pronounced creh-pes, so apparently I just can't pronounce anything right... sorry, not sorry) at a little hole-in-the-wall place. Mine was ham, spinach, cheese, and love. The man making it was adorable and he put some love in it. We had planned on getting ice cream or sorbet afterwards but we were too full, so we decided to head back for naps. Naturally, my nap was 3 hours long and so when we finally woke up, we went for dinner, which was ice cream. We tried to go back to our crepe place, but it was closed... probably because it was 10PM. We got dinner with Sheridin because she hadn't joined us for crepes earlier and then restaurant-hopped down Sherbrooke to another ice cream place. The revolving door was automatic and talked to us. I wish there was video footage of our reaction.

drag (queen) races, surprise visitor at Hurley's, and getting engaged

Yes, you read that correctly - drag (queen) races. Naturally, it's part of the Fringe Festival. Some of the queens were almost too believable. Pictures will come soon, but my camera battery died. We were a little worried it wasn't going to be on because it was outside and it was raining. These queens are professionals, though, so they went on anyway. We discovered apricot St Ambroise and our afternoon wouldn't have been the same without it.

Update: here are the much-anticipated pictures.

These two are the judges. They were referred to as "the ugly step-sisters." Personally, I thought they had fierce shoes.

This is the announcer of the whole show. I referred to her as "Sir Gaga." She made fun of the queens who only spoke English, and made following the show difficult for those of us who are unfortunately well-versed in Spanish, not French.

This was the battle between Grandma and the Owl. I personally liked the Owl because she had blue hair and a sassy attitude. Grandma had a 5-o'clock shadow.

After a quick 3-hour nap to sleep off the apricots, I decided to go to (where else?) Hurley's to hear Solstice for the third time this week. I had been trying to meet up with my friend Mike while he was in Montreal for the weekend and it didn't seem like it was going to work out but he surprised me by showing up at Hurley's during the last set!

When I got back to RVC (keep in mind - it's about 3AM), a group of drunk men were on a mission. This mission was to get their (very) drunk friend to do everything on a bucket list they'd made for him earlier that night. I asked how many he'd done so far that night - none. What did they need me to do? Accept his marriage proposal. On bended knee. Complete with ring.

Naturally, I accepted. I later found out his name was Kyle. He let me keep the ring. It actually fit, so that was a little creepy. Hopefully I helped them get the ball rolling with their bucket list, and now I can ward off the creepers at bars with a flash of my left hand. Thanks, Kyle!

I see the Guinness sign and I know I'm home

After our group dinner at the Italian restaurant down the street, we had planned on going to see Dave's son play in his band at Grumpy's. There were a few problems with this plan:

1. I was the only one at dinner drinking white wine, it was only by the bottle, and I couldn't take it with me if I didn't finish it... so naturally I had to finish it because it was $40.

2. We had NO IDEA where Grumpy's was except that it was "near" Hurley's... which usually means it's within a half hour walk, and we were in no state to go searching Montreal for a club.

3. We didn't know when the set started, and it was already very late.

Because of this, we decided to go straight to Hurley's and just tell Dave that we would go another night. Luckily, it was a weekend so Solstice had the singer/guitar player who is actually friendly playing!

We felt like VIPs because when we walked in, we got nods from ALL of the guys in the band. Unfortunately, they were almost done with their first set when we got there. We told Dave about our misfortunes with Grumpy's and he assured us that it was ok and that there would probably be another gig before we left at which we could see his son.

Between sets, 3 women asked to join us at our table. Having 2 people at a huge booth is just greedy so naturally we obliged. We struck up conversation, thinking they were recent graduates of McGill who might know some of our teachers or the musicians we had met. When one of them stated she was turning 40 soon, we were literally in shock. We told her that for about 5 minutes, at which point she decided she wanted to buy us pints for being so sweet.

During the next set, the band sang happy birthday to the leader of the flock of annoying women at the bar. After the song, most of them left. A few stuck around, and they actually knew how to Celtic dance so we joined them and just did American imitations. The band was visibly laughing at us so we kept it up - gotta keep the entertainment entertained.

At this point, random almost-creepy boys came over and started doing square dancing moves with us. I guess they could tell we were American and didn't know what else to do with us. After dancing for half the set, I decided to go back to our table. Sheridin tried to follow, but one of the square dancers grabbed her for a slow song. We later found out that he was 18 and had never been to a club or danced with a girl before. Sheridin had to lead the entire time, and he dropped her when he dipped her. Smooth. This is him. What a goob!

I think it's safe to say we've become regulars at Hurley's. The waitresses recognize us, we're friends with the featured band... this doesn't even happen back home. I see the Guinness sign and I know I'm home.

Diese Onze to hear Alex

We went back to the Miles Davis exhibit to hear a live band cover some of his hits. Chuck knew the sax player and said he was definitely the best sax player in Montreal, but wasn't a fan of the trumpet player, so we stayed for 2 sets and then left.

After leaving the exhibit, we decided that after dinner we were going to hear the advanced improv teacher's combo play at Diese Onze. Little did I know, this was the jazz club that we went to earlier in the trip that I could never find again because the sign was so well hidden, as well as being a pretty good walk from the dorm.

We got a little lost (and by a little I mean we were like 15 blocks in the wrong direction) after getting an already late start, so needless to say we missed the first set. We got a few pitchers and settled in for the night. Somehow, the pitchers magically emptied and when Alex came over to thank us for coming, he insisted on refilling them.

After the sets were over, we talked to some of the musicians. We met the guys in the combo as well as some musicians we'd heard at other jazz clubs and some of the group got phone numbers to arrange for lessons. Naturally, there were no singers. Quelle surprise.

After our long walk home, the girls bonded and told secrets and the boys separated and somehow managed to witness a very violent arrest of some troublemakers.

epic picture

It finally happened - I got a picture with Jonathan and Dave. For those too lazy to read previous posts about who they are, here's the Sparknotes version: Jonathan plays a mean fiddle while Dave goes to town on a flute, penny whistle, electric guitar, harmonica, or whatever he feels like doing at Hurley's. I'm hoping they'll play at my wedding or grad party or something phenomenal like that... They're pretty awesome

teaching pigeons and phallic imagery

Nothing too eventful today... just two random guys wrestling in front of RVC (our dorm) and a girl playing with a pigeon, "teaching it how to pivot." Mid-wrestle, one of the guys said "yo is that girl still playing with that pigeon?" The girl replied, "she needs to learn how to pivot, I'm just helping her learn a lesson."

... Seriously, I couldn't make this up if I tried.

For our GHUM class, we are required to go see a few of the shows at Montreal's Fringe Festival. A fringe festival is essentially the borderline cool slash sketchy shows that are not mainstream but either could possibly be with some support, or will never be just because they're so strange, but they have a tiny following who insisted that they be included.

Melissa looked on the schedule for us and found one that she assumed would be entertaining. What title could possibly make her think that? "Pretending Things are a Cock." Again, I really couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

Essentially, this guy went around the world for 4 years and took pictures of things that resembled... other things. The show was a mixture of photography, story-telling, and comedy, and though this was probably borderline sketchy, I enjoyed it. He had a cool way of presenting his stories and you could tell it meant a lot to him. I'm not quite sure why, but to each his own. We insisted on getting a group picture with him making his classic face. He's the one in the tie.

vegetarian paradise

I never posted anything about Commensal, which is by FAR the best all-vegetarian restaurant ever, not just in Montreal. Apparently, it's a chain of restaurants. Definitely somewhere I'd recommend to someone visiting here.

whether you think you'll fail or you'll succeed, you'll be right

Today we had a guest speaker for our GHUM class who was about our age, worked as an actress and started her own production company - pretty impressive for 21 years old. She essentially told us that the only way she got to the level of success she'd gotten to was through believing she could. My favorite motto of hers was "whether you think you'll fail or you'll succeed, you'll be right." She encouraged all of us to pursue our goals, and it was very inspirational.

In other news, I'm learning piano for my Jazz Improv class and although I was petrified at first and struggling to play a bass line, I've gotten a little better and it's helped my ear as well as my own song-writing, so this is a step in the right direction for me.

week one complete, hiking Mount Royal, and the drum jam

I arrived in Montreal exactly a week ago today… weird. I feel like we’ve been here much longer than a week and yet I still feel like we have so much of the city to explore.

We hiked up Mount Royal / Mont Real (the reason Montreal is called what it is) and because we were at Hurley’s so late the night before to hear Solstice play again we were all a little out of it. Luckily there were about a million stairs to go up so that was awesome. We finally got to the top and looked down on the city lovingly.

After we stopped feeling like we were going to die, we went to a pond within the park and there were baby ninjas doing karate or something like that.

Chuck wasn’t exactly sure if the path we were going to take down the mountain would lead us to the drum jam or not, but we had faith. We basically had to scale down what was probably a waterfall or something. Good thing I’m the clumsiest person I’ve ever met – I was covered in dirt by the time I reached the bottom, but I was alive. We made it to the drum jam and it was beyond legit.

wedding crashers, I'm on a boat, and Celtic fiddle players

On our walking tour today, we passed the architecture museum or something and it was too pretty to pass up. I might have to go back to actually explore the museum when we have a few free hours.

We were going to go in the Basilica Notre Dame but there was a wedding going on so we couldn’t. The pictures featured outside were impressive, so we’re heading back on a less popular wedding day.

We did a boat tour after our walk to the water and we saw the Cirque du Soliel tents from the docks and decided to take pictures of everything we saw, regardless of the fact that we stopped listening to the tour guide after 5 minutes and had no idea what anything was. I do know that the stadium pictures were people watching time trials for the Grand Prix and the dome has something to do with America and the World's Fair, but I’m not sure what. Oops! Meet Sheridin and see Montreal from the water like we did!

Later, a few of us headed to Hurley’s to hear the Celtic group Solstice play again. We hung out with the phenomenal flute player and the fiddle player remembered my name – celebrity status, no big deal.