Travel can be stressful. It doesn't have to be, but the Commish doesn't know how to or even like having fun. He's too busy correcting the world. The tone of which sounds like a far older and grumpier man. Dear commissioner, you suck. You knew my shoes hurt my feet, but you insisted on walking across hell's half acre. Even after I started limping. You ignored my pain. Even when i put on a blister pad and begged to stop walking. After promising me a beer and patio, we still had to walk 10,000 miles. When I finally convinced you to stop for a brief respite, you thanked me. A beer and a discussion can go a long way to saving a marriage:) So the fun part of our vacation could start.
Strangely enough in Montreal Hubby and I ended up on a patio where everyone was speaking English. I am not sure if we were drawn together by the siren call of fondue, or of it was the encouraging smiles of our almost bilingual servers, but Montreal started growing on us.
I am convinced that Toronto is the Canadian equivalent of a snobby grown up cousin, just home for summer holidays. Thinking she's smarter than everyone and wearing designer clothes-borrowed from her roommate but none the less cool.
If that's the case though, Montreal is the girl who transfers into 8th grade with the exotic French accent. She walks with a swagger more mature than you are and all the boys think she's the fairest girl in the land. Which is true. Montreal holds a certain- Je don't know what for an Anglo like me. Old Montreal encourages the masses to eat ice cream and maple syrup at the old port. Keeping hidden the little villages that make her so fancy. But I found them, you tricky vixen. And if I didn't have so many destinations on my list I would go back again next weekend:)
Montreal-Cheri, thank you for beating the Commissioner out of my Hubby & giving us a few windy wonderful food filled days.
Strangely enough in Montreal Hubby and I ended up on a patio where everyone was speaking English. I am not sure if we were drawn together by the siren call of fondue, or of it was the encouraging smiles of our almost bilingual servers, but Montreal started growing on us.
I am convinced that Toronto is the Canadian equivalent of a snobby grown up cousin, just home for summer holidays. Thinking she's smarter than everyone and wearing designer clothes-borrowed from her roommate but none the less cool.
If that's the case though, Montreal is the girl who transfers into 8th grade with the exotic French accent. She walks with a swagger more mature than you are and all the boys think she's the fairest girl in the land. Which is true. Montreal holds a certain- Je don't know what for an Anglo like me. Old Montreal encourages the masses to eat ice cream and maple syrup at the old port. Keeping hidden the little villages that make her so fancy. But I found them, you tricky vixen. And if I didn't have so many destinations on my list I would go back again next weekend:)
Montreal-Cheri, thank you for beating the Commissioner out of my Hubby & giving us a few windy wonderful food filled days.
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