Day 16 - CANADIENS WIN, CANADIENS WIN!

12:15
I’m awake a little before 06:00. I’ve given up on trying to correct my jet-lag anymore than this. I’m headed home later this week, and could do with avoiding chronic eastbound jet-lag if I can, as we’ve got a busy weekend of 12 Pubsing ahead. I use the time relatively wisely. I try and have a coffee from a Nespresso machine, but it almost entirely fails to make me a cup. It’s definitely not user-error. This is the third Nespresso machine on this trip alone that’s been on the fritz.

I head out around 09:00 for a walking tour of the Old Town, and will see where the rest of the day takes me. I’ve got a list of places I’d like to check out while I’m in town, but other than the Old Town, they’re pretty widely dispersed across what is a sizeable city area. The Old Town feels very European. The town was founded in 1642 - by which I mean some Europeans settled it then, despite it already being land inhabited by First Nations peoples. There are cobbled streets everywhere, and much of the architecture is redolent of 18th and 19th century Paris. There’s definitely a Gallic feel to the city, architecturally - but also in its layout, and in its mood. I’m finding an abruptness to native Montrealers (yes, I’ve checked - that’s what they’re called) that I’ve not experienced elsewhere in Canada. It’s also noticeable that English is very much the second language here. The majority of Quebecois (again, checked) are bilingual, but the balance here is definitely towards to the Francophone.

Anyways, the European nature of the city does make for more difficult navigation. Manageable, but trickier. The Old Town features some impressive buildings, not least the vast Quebec Court of Appeal, which is quite the edifice. I wander down to the Vieux Port (old port) area. I think in my head I’d expected coffee shops and restaurants by the water’s edge. Whether the season, I’m not sure - but it’s desolate and deserted. There’s an observation wheel, that feature of so many modern cities, but no one riding it. I’m sure in Summer it’d be much busier. Montreal is basically on an island at the confluence of the St Lawrence and Ottawa rivers. Urban sprawl has taken the city beyond the island’s borders, but the heart of the city remains on the island. I stop at the Basilica de Notre Dame, which is very closely modelled on the world famous church of the same name in Paris. It’s a beautiful piece of architecture, despite one of the towers being covered in scaffolding and tarpaulin.

After 90 minutes of walking, I’ve exhausted the neighbourhood, and decide to head North to the Jean-Talon market. I’ve read that it’s a hub of market stalls selling the very best produce to locals and restaurants. There’s a bus that’ll take me most of the way there, but after my recent experience in Winnipeg, I check first how to buy tickets for travel. It’s a similar (ish) story. Tickets can be bought at a handful of grocery stores and pharmacies, but the best bet is to head to one of the Metro stations, and buy a travel card. I walk maybe 15 minutes to the North, and find a Metro station. A 3 day card costs me about a tenner, which feels like great value.

It’s properly and bitterly cold today. I’m conscious I’ve been outside for around 2 hours, and I can feel pin pricks of cold on my skin, particularly my legs. I kinda wish I’d worn my long johns today. The bus is warm though, and takes around 20 minutes to take me to an outer neighbourhood. The streets feel simpler, poorer than the downtown area. It’s noticeable in the houses, the streets, the people walking on them. The market itself is a bit of a letdown. Having visited the St Lawrence market in Toronto so recently, the difference is stark. There are a few interesting stalls, but it’s on a much, much smaller scale. The produce for sale somehow looks less appealing as well. It’s also an outdoor market, and I’d kinda hoped it might be indoors and warm.

It’s 12:00, and I’ve already walked 10,000 steps today. I’ve not eaten, so I’m hungry AND cold. Just around the corner from the market is a Vietnamese place selling big bowls of Pho. IN.

16:00
The Pho was outstanding. When done well, it’s the equal of any noodle soup out there. So fresh, so fragrant, so comforting. This one has an incredibly deep beef stock, flavoured with ginger, onion, cardamom, star anise, fish sauce, and I’m sure various other bits and bobs. It’s simmered for upwards of 12 hours, to create a clear beef broth, into which rice noodles, razor thin slices of brisket and other vegetables are placed to lightly poach. Now - its deliciousness notwithstanding, there are two small to medium sized issues with my Pho.

1) It is not beard friendly. I think any noodle soup would be a challenge with a beard as long as mine has now become. At various times I:
a) dip my beard straight into the beef broth
b) dribble the broth down my beard as I try to drink it from the frankly inappropriate spoon, and
c) allow the rice noodles to splash against my beard

The result is mixed. My beard definitely has a beefy tang to it, but it’s also warmer than it was.

2) A little of my way through my bowl, I notice a pot of chilli sauce on the table. I reason that a bit of heat will help warm me, and stir a healthy teaspoon into the broth. Holy fuckballs, it’s incandescently hot. I have somewhat shot myself in the foot. I’m now slurping lava-juice all over my lips. Some of it even makes it into my nose. Aye carumba.

From here, I head over to Mont Royal, which is not really a mountain at all, but rather a hill in the city centre, and the source of the city’s name. The views down across the city are great, but the wind up here is noticeably stronger (and therefore colder). It’s pushing 14:00, and I decide a little afternoon rest is in order. I jump on another bus, back towards the Old Town. I’m starting to get my bearings now, so feel more confident that I’m both on the right bus, and heading in the right direction. I’m proved right on both counts, though the bus undergoes something of a detour. There’s a TON of construction going on in Montreal. I don’t know if it’s preparatory to an event or not (as it was in Seattle).

Back at my apartment, I make plans for the remainder of the day. It’s a toss-up between a very cool street food market, or a Montreal Canadiens ice hockey game. I seek counsel from my twin, and he steers me towards the game. I buy a ticket, and open a beer, by way of celebration.

22:15
I head out around 17:00, conscious that I’ve only had my Pho earlier to eat. I head to Reuben’s, a grill house just round the corner from Bell Centre, the home of the Canadiens. They’re famous for (hardly a surprise) their Reuben sandwiches. Perched at the bar, I request a glass of red wine, and demand a Reuben. It is BRILLIANT. The corned beef is ultra moist, wonderfully flavoured. The combination of corned beef with melted cheese, sauerkraut and Thousand Island dressing is one of my favourite things, and it’s done brilliantly here.

Satiated, I head round the corner to the arena. It’s a Tuesday night, and yet the Bell Centre is perhaps 95% full. The crowd (MY crowd) is highly partisan. I quickly join in. I’ve never really been grabbed by ice hockey before. Watching it on TV I find challenging, as it’s very easy to lose track of the game, and the puck. Watching it from an arena, it makes much more sense. My seat gives me a great view of the whole ice-rink, and lets me understand many more of the subtleties and nuances of the game. I played (field) hockey to a pretty high standard as a kid, so I can appreciate the complexity of doing many of the same things that I used to, but all whilst skating around an ice rink. There’s certainly a forgivable recklessness to some of the play. I’m struck by the juxtaposition - the game is at once graceful, but brutal; the skills on show deft, but clumsy. These guys are obviously incredibly talented, and massively hard-working, but at the same time, some of the play is bordering on comical.

The game’s pretty even. Both the Canadiens and the New York Islanders (their opponents) are having poor seasons. They seem fairly well matched, but to my eye, the Canadiens have the edge. Their play is sharper, more creative, more incisive. Early in the 2nd period (of 3) they take the lead, with a really well worked goal during a power-play. Late (VERY late) in the second period, the Islanders equalise, also under a power play. The crowd do NOT respond well. The third period is a tight affair, neither team pushing for a win, in case they push too hard, and invite a defeat. Deep, DEEP into overtime, the Canadiens score. I’ve always been a little disparaging about North American Sport’s inability to accept a draw (tie) as a reasonable result. The truth is that the tension of overtime is highly exciting, and just a little bit addictive. NHL games do sometimes end in a draw. Shootouts are reserved for playoff games. In the regular season, if you play 20 minutes of overtime, and there’s no additional score, then the spoils are shared, and everyone goes home moderately happy.

Well - there it is. I’m signed up to a lifetime of supporting the Montreal Canadiens. I’m so unfamiliar with them, that I have to read about their history. It transpires they’re the most successful team in NHL (National Hockey League) history. Worried that I’m going to be accused of glory hunting, I read on. It further transpires that they’ve not won anything since 1992. They’re in the midst of a horrendously long drought. This season’s poor start is nothing surprising. I’m happy with this. I feel like I’m picking an underdog out of the dirt. That’ll do for me.Читать далее