I have known you as a gallant adversary. It is now my pleasure to make your acquaintance as a friend.
And I yours, Monsieur La Marquis.-From the movie Last of the Mohicans……..
Uh, how’s that getting out flanked thing working out General?
We made the circuit up to Quebec City yesterday. The drive was fine-the car ran great and I had no problems negotiating the Canadian roads on the way up and back. It was a little farther than I had expected-and he journey home was more than a little boring from Quebec to Drummondville-but such is it when the land is farmland all around.
I’ve got plenty of pictures-just no good way to upload them here. Watch this space come Tuesday for some great food recommendations in Montreal.
We treated ourselves to a sinful breakfast and an even more sinful dinner. I feel no guilt about it at all.
To do so, however, I had to kidnap the S.O.- I tricked her into going with me on the premise that we were going somewhere else. I had spotted this particular restaurant earlier this week while prepping for the trip. At first she was not happy with the prices-when I told her I was either spending the money here, or taking her back to the hotel and going out by myself, she calmed down. When the food and the wine came she changed her tune considerably. This restaurant has 500 wines on its list.
Pix of that to follow too. I wish I could post them here-but the connection here at the hotel has been so intermittent-sometimes quick, oftentimes slower than Canadian Maple Syrup. I’ll just wait till we get home.
The S.O. did not seem to like my observation that Montreal is just like Tokyo. Physically, of course, its very different. ( It reminds me of San Francisco-but a hell of a lot safer and cleaner.) No, my reference was to the language thing. It finally dawned on me as we walked the entire distance back from dinner. (2.4 KM). We had taken the Metro up to the restaurant-but the S.O. had suggested we walk back. After, I finally convinced her that-yes-I have figured out my way around. She still cannot picture where she is on a map. I’m glad she did, because it too was a fun thing-details in a later post.
However, it has occurred to me, that the issue with language is about belonging to the club. In Japan-you can only belong to the club if you are Japanese and of course, speak Japanese. The Quebecois don’t have an obvious discriminator like eyes, facial color and height-so they have to rely on the spoken language.
And, since even if you can speak French, your inflection of the words are probably different-then it’s a surefire way to keep the “insider” list manageable. Works the same way in Tokyo I have observed-even if you speak very good Japanese.
I suspect it’s probably easier to breakdown the walls to entry over here though-if you take it over time.
Which leads to a trivia question: Is a person of color up here, an African-Canadian? Enquiring minds want to know.
One more day tomorrow-then off to the home fires. Pix are coming-Tuesday night.