I have finally done some touristy things, including passing by the 'tam tams' at Parc du Mont-Royal. Every Sunday people go with djembes, bongo drums, rubbish bins, drum kits, and anything else vaguely resembling a drum, and just dance around all afternoon to some homemade beatz.
I then decided to go for a walk in the forest, which ended up being a scramble to the top of the mountain wearing a dress and flipflops. The view of the park, the city and the port was stunning. I stayed chatting with the guys who had made a perch up there for a while. After reaching the conclusion that the best power a pet could have would be mind-reading, the scramble down was also interesting; one of the guys managed to get all the way down while playing guitar and singing at the same time. Nice.The international student soceity had a free barbeque on top of the mountain, thanks very much, and I finally tried out the bike rent system to get there. It was so nice to be back on a bike, despite the numerous potholes that go unnoticed as a pedestrian, and despite having only 3 gears. I would love to buy a bike, but with only a month left before it gets too cold and snowy, I think I would rather put my money towards buying the fattest coat I can find. I have been hearing very mixed stories about the winter here. I have noticed that the people who tell me that 'it isn't too bad' generally end up coming from colder parts of Canada though...
After going to the uni activities fair, I am now a real live convert to Quidditch. I know I'm going to have threats of friend disownment (in fact I more or less already have), but it literally is the most fun sport I have ever played. Apart from mini-olympics at Beauchamp maybe. But seriously! You have to keep a broomstick between your legs at all times, even in the warmup laps around the field that we share with the football team. Yes there are always people watching and laughing but there's at least 40 of us so I only felt silly for the first ten minutes or so. If you 'dismount' your broom it's like you have fallen off, and you are obliged to run around your goal hoops as a time penalty. I'm a beater, which means I spent 2 hours on Thursday and Saturday running around on a broomstick, scooping up a 'bludger' (a big squashy ball) out of the wet mud and throwing at members of the other team, while avoiding getting hit myself. It's a full contact sport, so it can end up in a half-violent scuffle on the floor over a ball, while avoiding falling off your broom of course. The snitch is a long distance cross country runner wearing all yellow with a tail, which the seekers have to find and grab. The snitch is allowed all over campus; Saturday's snitch grabbed somebody's bike and cycled off. After Thursday's practice I got in the shower in my trainers I was so muddy. It's hilarious and brilliant and I'm getting the T-shirt tomorrow; I hope you will all still be my friends!
I am the official 11th housemate of Rue Hutchinson! I have been given an actual key to the actual front door, so I can now wander in to the English House (as I've started calling it, despite the very much international presence) at my leisure. I haven't quite put a spare toothbrush in their bathroom, but it could definitely happen. They haven't changed the locks yet, even after they made me demonstrate how to run with a broomstick. Oh dear, I love it but I may well keep this new found interest on the dl when meeting new people! Particularly when they make the association that I'm British, and apparently quidditch is British...I am quick to inform them that it is not at all common in England, and that just because a British person came up with the idea it is actually a fictional sport. OR IS IT?!
I made my first cake this side of the Atlantic Ocean, with Max throwing in anything he found in the cupboard. It ended up being a pretty good banana, peanut, coconut, sunflower seed and chocolate chip cake, although I have to say I was pretty doubtful at first. The french phrase for fainting is to say 'I fell in the apples'. A fire hydrant on the main street of McGill campus burst, creating an impressive flood for 24 hours. I tried the Montreal version of a kebab called poutine - fried potatoes and cheese curds in gravy. The first time I had it was in a proper restaurant where the dish was called La crise cardiaque - a heart attack. Beer is sold from a refridgerated room at the back of a dépanneur (like a Select and Save). When you take the empty bottles back to be recycled you are reimbursed some dollar.
Finally putting some photos up. My flatmates Marie, Max, Firmin and I.Peace
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