Montreal Hospitality

I know I’ve mentioned on more than a few occasions that most days just don’t seem to go as planned. Well, today was so unexpected I’m almost at a loss for words – I say “almost” because let’s face it, even when I have nothing to say it still takes me a dozen or so paragraphs to not say anything.

After yesterday’s short day on the bike but great day in the air, I knew today was going to have to cover more than 16km today. I could also tell that today was also going to be a bit of a wet one – the rain pelting my tent all night was a bit of hint. The funny thing about the sound of rain on a tent is that it is strangely capable of waking you up and putting you to sleep. Last night it did both, several times. Every time I woke up to the sound of the rain I soon fell back asleep hoping that the rain would stop by the next time I woke up. At 6:45am I had my window of opportunity. I didn’t really want to get up but I REALLY didn’t want to take my tent down in the rain so up I got and the tent went down. It was soaked, but at least I wasn’t.

By 7:45am I was ready to go. I opted to go with full rain gear on both the panniers and me to start the day – this proved to be unnecessary but it wasn’t until about 2:00 pm that I actually de-raingeared myself.

After a hearty breakfast (a Western Omelette) at “Goodies” I was on the road heading for Montreal. I’m not entirely sure why but I opted to make the trek on the Quebec side of the river – probably read something somewhere. I have to say, my first provincial border crossing by bicycle was a little bit of a let down. I don’t know where the good “Bienvenue à Quebec” signs are but they certainly aren’t on the bridge between Hawkesbury and Glenville. Oh well, that didn’t stop me from taking a picture.

The ride to Montreal was generally uneventful – well, except that (much like my New Zealand trip) I managed to lose my blue baseball hat. However, unlike my New Zealand trip, this time the hat stayed lost. Never to be seen again. By the time I realized it was gone it was WAY too far to go back. sigh. I guess I need a new hat. Anyway, the rest of the ride was good. The ride through Oka and Oka Provincial Park was about the hilliest part of the trip so far but considering how flat the trip has been that’s not really saying too much. The BIG hills are still to come.

The most eventful part of the day came as I was riding through Montreal. I was heading to Îles-de-Boucherville to camp for the night when a rollerblader caught up to me (gives you an indication of how slow I was going at that point – I prefer to think of it as he was going really fast). As is now the norm, the conversation started in French (briefly) but obviously that didn’t last long. Once English took over we started talking where I was going, the route, duration, etc. He (Guillaume) had also done some cycle touring including a recent trip which included pulling a trailer with his 3-year old twins along. We followed the trail for at least a couple of kilometres when he pointed out that I might not make it in time to catch the last ferry over to Îles-de-Boucherville. I didn’t really have any other options (or so I thought) so I decided I would have to try and just hope for the best. Well, the “best” came moments later when Guillaume offered to put me up for the night. I was completely surprised but it sounded like a good plan and so I accepted.

Within an hour, we were sitting outside at his place, drinking beer, watching the World Cup, while Guillaume marked on a map a number of places to check out on the road up to Natashquan. It was great. Shortly after, we stayed outside for what I can only describe as a dinner feast with his wife Veronique, the 3-year old twins, and another friend (Roxanne) and her daughter Lya. Language wasn’t really an issue as Roxanne also spoke English, and Veronique seemed to understand most of what I said (although, I was a little proud of myself whenever I heard her ask, “qu’at-il dit?” – or something like that). Lya (I’m guessing she was 10, or 12 – I’m horrible at guessing ages) proceeded to name everything within sight in attempt to expand my French vocabulary. It was pretty funny. Sadly, all I remember now is forchette and couteau. But it’s more than I knew yesterday!

After dinner we each had a glass of cognac before Guillaume suggested we head downtown to check out the Jazz Festival. So we did. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised but the scope of the festival is enormous. Several big stages, huge crowds, and just a fun energy everywhere. We weren’t particularly successful in timing our arrival at some of the stages as we managed to catch only the final moments of the first few shows we went to. We then headed over to watch a Swedish band that was apparently very popular however, technical troubles delayed their performance so we moved on. We eventually ended up at a blues show with JJ Grey & Mofro. They put on a great show. It was too bad they could only play for an hour.

By the time the show was over it was midnight and time to call it a day – I still can’t believe how much stuff I did AFTER cycling 106 km. It was definitely an incredible day – thanks again so much Guillaume and his family for their overwhelming generosity. Despite the massive amount I’ve just typed, I really am lost for words to express my gratitude.

Distance Travelled: 106.37
Time on Bike (actually moving): 5:34:16
Maximum speed: 155.16 km/h (I’m thinking I can stop reporting this given its lack of accuracy)
Average speed: 19.08 km/h