Oh Canada!

Guess I can't say I never go anywhere... did I mention I was heading to Montreal this weekend? Land of the Canadian French.. Anthony and I made the 6 hour troop up north, and I have to say, despite freezing my ass off at times, it's been worth it. I mean, the bums kind of scared me, more so because they spoke French that sounded sleazy and I wondered if they were asking for more than money. Beyond that, things have been very... European, but I've learned that despite the country you are visiting, Wendy's workers are incredibly slllooooowwwwwww..... Vieux Montreal is a beautiful collaboration of cobble stone streets that reminded me of a colder version of Viejo San Juan in PR. There are so many boutiques on Saint Catherine (street), and so many people walking around with shopping bags from those boutiques that you're easily inclined to spend $250 on a jacket you would never take a second look at in NY. I didn't buy the jacket, but that's only because they didn't have my size... Old languages die hard... whereas I am often reprimanded for not speaking a word of spanish, French, the language I learned in high school and never used, fell easily onto my ears and I was soon teaching Anthony that French words are rarely spoken the way they are spelled i.e. Champs de Mars is not to be said CHAMPS (like the sneaker store) DE (like day) MARS (like the planet), instead its CHAM-DUH-MAH- like one big word.. I don't think he gets it, and who am I to correct when I can't even say "arroz" like a true Puerto Rican (do I really need to say it like I'm hacking a lugy?)... It's already Sunday night and we're looking for a place to eat and drink the rest of the evening away, before I know it I'll be back in NYC annoyed by the tourists in my way with their maps and cameras, totally forgetting what a tourist I was at the Notre-Dame Basilica... such an Americanne I am...