Saturday October 21st

We had arranged to catch up with Alec in the morning before my flight left to Montreal. He had been a friend of Mums, and I'd met him briefly in church the previous Sunday. First we’d thought to meet in Montague, but in the end we decided on having him over to Caledonia. He came about 10am, and it was nice to spend some more time chatting with him, and having all of us together. The flight had been due to leave at 11.20, but was rescheduled some time before, so that it was leaving nearly two hours later, giving me a bit more time there. It was a rather wet day, a good day to be leaving. I was glad of the beautiful sunny day we’d had the day before.
Crystal, Caroline and I headed off to the airport, and I filled up at a service station near the airport. I got a message while driving, and discovered when I stopped that it was from the guy I’d hired the car from. I’d completely forgotten that I’d arranged to return it by around 11 or earlier, because the flight was leaving at 11.20, and so I was still on the road when I’d been meant to return it. I was still thinking I would just drop it off before the flight left. I spoke to the guy apologising and he was ok with that, but the company did charge me extra on what was already a pretty pricey rental.
 
  
I checked my luggage in at the airport, and the three of us settled down for some lunch at the cafe. The airport is very small, it seemed to have only two gates. There didn’t look to be many people waiting in the lounge the other side of the security check, from what I could see. Mickey joined us while we were eating. All the other family I’d visited, I was returning to on the way back, but this was the final goodbye here for this trip.
We said our goodbyes, and I went through the security. There had been no notifications on the speakers so far as I’d heard, but as they were putting my bag through, I was being paged, so apparently most people had already gone through. I was the only person in the security area. They put the bag through, then opened it up and took something out and put it through again, and did the same a third time. Meanwhile one of the airline people had popped in, I think to see if I was in there. I was a bit nervous they would leave without me! They finally passed my bag – apparently something in there had looked like a knife. Crystal mentioned later that Mickey had said that Charlottetown airport was one of the worst for being picky about checking bags.
There were quite a few people on the flight, though it wasn’t full. After seeing so few people in the lounge, and hardly anyone, if anyone, going through security while we ate, I was expecting it to be almost empty, but I guess most people must have gone through before we even started eating. It was raining as the plane took off. The flight was fairly uneventful, we were enveloped in cloud almost straight away when taking off, so there wasn’t much to see.
 
  
The flight was about an hour and a half, and I saw a bit of Montreal when we were near the ground, though it was cloudy there too. I saw that Crystal had messaged me while I was taking off – they had been parked waiting for the plane to take off (they all went home with Mickey), and he had flashed the lights at the plane. I think I was probably facing away from them, but she sent me a photo of the plane leaving, which was so nice.
 
  
I disembarked in Montreal and found my way to the baggage claim. There was hardly anyone there, and not much baggage, so maybe most people were transferring to other flights. I was going to stay with my coworker and friend Francois, who was from France, but now living in Montreal. He’d messaged me saying he’d been held up in traffic, but was on his way. I messaged him to say I was here and where I was.
He was having trouble finding out how to get to where I was, and working out where it was on the map – the airport is pretty large. We worked it out after a while on the phone, and I saw him coming into view. He was different from what I expected him to look like from photos, and having had a video chat once or twice in the past. I don’t think I would have recognised him if we hadn’t both been on the phone.
 
  
I had never seen him in person before, but we got on well, and I enjoyed the time with him. We walked along to a large car park where the car was, and around 3pm we headed off to his place. He lived fairly close to the centre of Montreal, and didn’t own a car. He subscribed to a service where there was a fleet of cars, and you could borrow one and use it for a while – he paid by the hour, and I think distance travelled as well. He had got a car to meet me at the airport and take me to his place.
It was strange to see all the road signs only in French everywhere. It was raining here, as it was in Charlottetown, though not heavily, and the traffic wasn’t too bad by that time. The street that Francois lived on was having some fairly major roadwork done, and I think it was closed to traffic, and he parked as near as he could, a few minutes walk away, and together we carried my luggage over to his place. We went by the Notre-Dame Hospital, which was on the other side of the street from him, and through an opening with a building on top, which he said was one of the coldest places in the winter, with the wind whistling through the opening.
 
  
He was able to just leave the car there and mark it as free on the app he used. I found out he could leave a borrowed car anywhere within an area around central Montreal, or else park it in one of a few special parking areas set up for this rental company. Parking on many of the streets required residential permits for that area, and this company had arranged to have a kind of global permit which allowed parking in any residential permit areas.
He lived in a small apartment building, with three stories, and he had the ground floor, which was a decent size, with several bedrooms. The door was right off the footpath, and there were doors nearby to get to the other floors. The hospital across the road included a quite historic looking building. Within seconds of us getting in, I was greeted by a very friendly, somewhat overweight black cat rubbing against my legs. Francois had asked me if I minded cats, because he was letting me use his room, which I think was the main bedroom, and the cat also slept there. It was nice to have feline company!
 
  
His younger son also lived with him, and his godson, who I found out had come from France to live there for a while. He showed me to my room, and I dumped my luggage and got a bit sorted out. There was a pretty decent sized bathroom off the room, which also had a door to it from the living area, but there was another bathroom further away too. Outside the living area was a small courtyard with some plants, which the cat visited from time to time through a cat door. Apparently the upstairs apartments had balconies overlooking the courtyard.
 
  
About half past four we headed out again to look around. It was still raining lightly, but it wasn’t very cold. I had a heavy waterproof jacket, but Francois lent me a lighter one. His destination was a mountain called Mont Real, only about 20 minutes walk from where he lived. I found out that this is what Montreal was named after, being translated as Mount Royal. The mountain was surrounded by a large swathe of parklands, which had apparently been designed by the same person who designed Central Park in New York City.
 
  
Near Francois’ apartment was a nice park, well laid out, with lovely autumn foliage, and a lake in the middle. We walked through this for a while, then along city streets, and Francois told me that there were English and French parts of the city, divided by a central road which we crossed after a while. We joked about everyone suddenly speaking English as we crossed the road. A lot, if not most of the shop signs were also in French. It felt like even in the English part there were a lot of French signs. He stopped in at a shop, which seemed to be a kind of French deli, and got quite a few different types of cheeses and put them in his bag. He conversed with the shopkeeper in French.
 
  
We arrived at the edge of the mountain, where across a main road there was a plaza surrounding a large pillar with a statue of an angel on the top, then a statue of a man further down, then statues of other men and women around the bottom. It looked to be in honour of Cartier, who I gather had discovered the area and named it Montreal. Apparently there were a lot of things named after him.
 
  
 
  
It was about half past five by now, and the light was starting to fade a bit in the drizzly weather, but I was blown away by the colours of the trees. I just kept saying, “wow!” as we walked along the pathways, seeing incredibly vibrant reds, oranges and yellows from the trees.
 
  
 
  
We made our way up to a lake, and then on to a lookout over the city, around 6.30, by which time it was pretty much dark. The city was quite close by below, and the lights were pretty. There was a building in the distance with a very bright light that swept around in a circle.
 
  
Next to the lookout was a large ornate looking hall. It was still open, and we went inside. There were only a few tables and chairs inside, and a lot of empty space. The ceiling had polished wooden beams, and around the walls, high up, were pictures, and a coat of arms, and a bit of information about Montreal and its history along the sides. The park was fairly well lit up, and we walked back to the statue, which was also nicely lit up by then, then back to Francois’ place.
 
  
He took me and the others out to dinner at a place nearby which specialised in poutine. He said I hadn’t tried poutine until I’d tried it in Montreal – I gather they had originally invented it. There was a very popular poutine restaurant, but he knew one which he said was better, so we went there. They served not just chips, gravy and cheese, but also a lot of other toppings, making it into quite a meal. There were some menu choices that they had pre-done, but we also got a sheet where we could make our own, with all kinds of options for adding meats, vegetables, types of cheese and sauces. I choose a few different options which resulted in a pretty nice dish.
I hadn’t really done any work for HDRsoft for a couple of months by this time, and Francois had some work questions to ask me about things he was trying to get working, which I had previously been working on. I chatted a bit with his son and godson too. After a while we turned in for the night. The cat was asleep on a cat bed near the bed, and stayed there while I went to bed.





































 
  
 
   
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  









































 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  









































 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  

















































 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  










































































 
  
 
  
 
   
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  











































 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  





































 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  























 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  




























































 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
  
















