The last few posts have not been very interesting, I know. But that's how a vacationing in a big city without any real purpose passes.
There was an incident on the weekend where my sister was trying to buy a one-way ticket from Montreal to Edmonton, when the price mysteriously went up from $249 on Friday to $394 on Sunday.
I went to the bookstore (Chapters on Ste-Catherine at Stanley) where I found a couple of books to add to my reading list:
Lullabies for Little Criminals, by Heather O'Neill (Montreal author)
Special Topics in Calamity Physics, by Marisha Pessl (Asheville, N.C. author)
Today will be the last post for a while, because I will be away from the computer until I get to Kingston.
26.7.07
I have been reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows this past week whenever I was at home. So far, I am about two-thirds of the way through. Harry is still alive, and so are his two companions.
So far, with regards to September, I have:
1) been unofficially registered for Fall term
2) found a room to rent, a fully-furnished basement complete with bathroom
But the following still needs to be done:
1) meet with Program Advisor
2) send registration form and photograph for identification purposes
3) work on lesson plan presentation
4) pay tuition
5) buy a one-way, VIA rail train ticket
So far, with regards to September, I have:
1) been unofficially registered for Fall term
2) found a room to rent, a fully-furnished basement complete with bathroom
But the following still needs to be done:
1) meet with Program Advisor
2) send registration form and photograph for identification purposes
3) work on lesson plan presentation
4) pay tuition
5) buy a one-way, VIA rail train ticket
24.7.07
20.7.07
Today it is raining pretty heavily in Montreal. I have not done anything too interesting lately, except walk from Parc Jean-Drapeau, along the Lachine Canal to the Lionel-Groulx metro station early Wednesday morning. That is a long walk, and I took a nap once I got home.
I am thinking about all sorts of things, but not really getting anywhere. Should I take heart in my horoscope for today?
Maybe today is the day!
I am thinking about all sorts of things, but not really getting anywhere. Should I take heart in my horoscope for today?
Vous vous en faits beaucoup pour votre avenir - la pension ou la retraite, les enfants et leur aveni, la vie en général, votre réputation, etc. Relaxez!
Maybe today is the day!
11.7.07
My sister is here in Montreal with me this summer, although she has her own place, a room at the residences at Université de Montréal. To get there from my studio apartment it takes about 45 minutes by public transportation.
I am trying to organize my priorities this month, although I am having some difficulties completing them.
1. Get registered for courses (all two of them) this fall.
2. Go through orientation for the course in which I will be a T.A.
3. Pay the tuition.
4. Find a place to stay in Kingston.
5. Make the move west with my stuff.
I am trying to organize my priorities this month, although I am having some difficulties completing them.
1. Get registered for courses (all two of them) this fall.
2. Go through orientation for the course in which I will be a T.A.
3. Pay the tuition.
4. Find a place to stay in Kingston.
5. Make the move west with my stuff.
7.7.07
Last Friday, I left Raeford, and after a two-day journey, arrived in Montréal. After returning my car to Dick Shirley Mitsubishi in Burlington, my hosts brought me to the Amtrak station, where I bid adieu to them and began my journey north. Here are a few highlights:
The train left Burlington at about a quarter to ten. My first moments were a little anxious, since 1) the train started moving before I could even get my bags put away, and 2) I must have annoyed other passengers for trying to plead my case with the stewardess about bringing more than two carry-ons. The sequence of events had happened faster than my mind would allow. The conductor told me to calm down as he punched my ticket.
The ride to Richmond was long...almost 6.5 hours (1.5 hours late). In Cary, a couple of twin boys headed to Philly boarded, and about 10 minutes passed before one asked, "Are we out of N.C. yet?", a question that was answered as the train passed the N.C. State Fairgrounds, and the other said, "Hey! We were just here yesterday!" (Crossing the state line wouldn't take place for another four hours.)
Along the way, the conductor made two separate announcements: First, there is a long line-up at the Café Car because one of two microwaves stopped working, and it was probably caused by the microwave technician; and after 1 p.m., the train is limited to a maximum speed of 59 mph because of the expansion of tracks due to the heat, particularly CSX Railway tracks, which are notorious (among train enthusiasts, anyway) for being not-so-well maintained. As a result, the conductor said, this train is usually late, but today it is going to be latER than usual.
I checked my baggage in Richmond, hoping that I would not have to look after them until early next morning in N.Y. I was told by the ticket agent that I needed to go into the back room to lighten up the suitcases with the baggage guy. One was 6 lb over; the other 2 lb. I had a conversation with the man as I opened my bag, pulled out a canvas bag and a couple of books from each, and voilà! He let me play with the balance that they use to figure out the weights. The man (a black man named Bennett) asked about my job as a teacher, and I asked him about his job. Next time, he promised that he was going to speak to me in Chinese.
Two hours later, the train to N.Y. finally arrived (1 hour late). We were told that checked baggage would not arrive on time because the assembly was missing a baggage car. We had the option of having it arrive next day, or take them as carry-ons and setting them at the back of our train. So a couple of Amtrak agents helped me with the not-checked-baggage-anymore bags, including Bennett. The time was made up by reducing the layover in Washington, and we were back on schedule. I didn't go outside because I wanted to watch my belongings, and it was nice to have (virtually) a whole car to yourself. The other few that stayed behind probably didn't even know we had stopped, for they were in a pretty deep slumber.
I caught a few winks (that is about 1 hour) between Wash., and N.Y. while listening to some music. At 2 a.m., we arrived, and there were no baggage handlers down to help, so I tried out my arrangement I dreamed of during my sleep. It was better. I walked about half of a mile in all to get to the waiting area, most of it backwards. There was probably a shorter way, but I was not familiar with the place. You find people of all types there, including homeless trying to catch some sleep.
I doodled and observed others for a few hours before napping for about 30 minutes before wandering to Dunkin' Donuts (the place that involved the least walking and dragging) for breakfast. When the train arrived, the handlers at N.Y. were not very nice (probably because they were overwhelmed with requests for assistance, and they were severely understaffed), so I had to move everything on my own. In N.Y., dozens of train departures happen during rush hours (sometimes simultaneously), so you have to make sure to listen to the announcements about where to line up, or which platform to go to.
The train to Montreal was also long (12 hours), and I passed the time sleeping, listening to music, reading (hey, I got through a whole book!) and wondering what am I going to do once we arrived. The beautiful scenery of Lake Champlain was on the other side of the train, so I had to settle on seeing what was on my side (which was nothing).
In Montreal, I managed to get my stuff to the subway platform, which is about 70 feet underground, and then back up at my destination (trust me, it gets easier with practice). Various people offered help along the way, but I told them I could manage. Along the street I was about a tenth of a mile away when a man came out of his house, watched me struggle down the broken, uneven sidewalks for a few seconds and said he was going in that direction anyway and took me to the house in his car. I thanked him for the ride.
My temporary place is a duplex (common in Montreal), where the landlord lives on the bottom floor and rents out the top floor. It has two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and a bathroom. The couple is Ukranian-French-Canadian and is (mostly) retired. The man, Émile, worked in drafting/computer-aided design but now works late nights on the weekend as a doorman for a condo complex in downtown (to try something different); the woman, Daria, is 75 but looks much younger. For now, she cooks and prepares meals for a family.
More to come in a future post.
The train left Burlington at about a quarter to ten. My first moments were a little anxious, since 1) the train started moving before I could even get my bags put away, and 2) I must have annoyed other passengers for trying to plead my case with the stewardess about bringing more than two carry-ons. The sequence of events had happened faster than my mind would allow. The conductor told me to calm down as he punched my ticket.
The ride to Richmond was long...almost 6.5 hours (1.5 hours late). In Cary, a couple of twin boys headed to Philly boarded, and about 10 minutes passed before one asked, "Are we out of N.C. yet?", a question that was answered as the train passed the N.C. State Fairgrounds, and the other said, "Hey! We were just here yesterday!" (Crossing the state line wouldn't take place for another four hours.)
Along the way, the conductor made two separate announcements: First, there is a long line-up at the Café Car because one of two microwaves stopped working, and it was probably caused by the microwave technician; and after 1 p.m., the train is limited to a maximum speed of 59 mph because of the expansion of tracks due to the heat, particularly CSX Railway tracks, which are notorious (among train enthusiasts, anyway) for being not-so-well maintained. As a result, the conductor said, this train is usually late, but today it is going to be latER than usual.
I checked my baggage in Richmond, hoping that I would not have to look after them until early next morning in N.Y. I was told by the ticket agent that I needed to go into the back room to lighten up the suitcases with the baggage guy. One was 6 lb over; the other 2 lb. I had a conversation with the man as I opened my bag, pulled out a canvas bag and a couple of books from each, and voilà! He let me play with the balance that they use to figure out the weights. The man (a black man named Bennett) asked about my job as a teacher, and I asked him about his job. Next time, he promised that he was going to speak to me in Chinese.
Two hours later, the train to N.Y. finally arrived (1 hour late). We were told that checked baggage would not arrive on time because the assembly was missing a baggage car. We had the option of having it arrive next day, or take them as carry-ons and setting them at the back of our train. So a couple of Amtrak agents helped me with the not-checked-baggage-anymore bags, including Bennett. The time was made up by reducing the layover in Washington, and we were back on schedule. I didn't go outside because I wanted to watch my belongings, and it was nice to have (virtually) a whole car to yourself. The other few that stayed behind probably didn't even know we had stopped, for they were in a pretty deep slumber.
I caught a few winks (that is about 1 hour) between Wash., and N.Y. while listening to some music. At 2 a.m., we arrived, and there were no baggage handlers down to help, so I tried out my arrangement I dreamed of during my sleep. It was better. I walked about half of a mile in all to get to the waiting area, most of it backwards. There was probably a shorter way, but I was not familiar with the place. You find people of all types there, including homeless trying to catch some sleep.
I doodled and observed others for a few hours before napping for about 30 minutes before wandering to Dunkin' Donuts (the place that involved the least walking and dragging) for breakfast. When the train arrived, the handlers at N.Y. were not very nice (probably because they were overwhelmed with requests for assistance, and they were severely understaffed), so I had to move everything on my own. In N.Y., dozens of train departures happen during rush hours (sometimes simultaneously), so you have to make sure to listen to the announcements about where to line up, or which platform to go to.
The train to Montreal was also long (12 hours), and I passed the time sleeping, listening to music, reading (hey, I got through a whole book!) and wondering what am I going to do once we arrived. The beautiful scenery of Lake Champlain was on the other side of the train, so I had to settle on seeing what was on my side (which was nothing).
In Montreal, I managed to get my stuff to the subway platform, which is about 70 feet underground, and then back up at my destination (trust me, it gets easier with practice). Various people offered help along the way, but I told them I could manage. Along the street I was about a tenth of a mile away when a man came out of his house, watched me struggle down the broken, uneven sidewalks for a few seconds and said he was going in that direction anyway and took me to the house in his car. I thanked him for the ride.
My temporary place is a duplex (common in Montreal), where the landlord lives on the bottom floor and rents out the top floor. It has two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and a bathroom. The couple is Ukranian-French-Canadian and is (mostly) retired. The man, Émile, worked in drafting/computer-aided design but now works late nights on the weekend as a doorman for a condo complex in downtown (to try something different); the woman, Daria, is 75 but looks much younger. For now, she cooks and prepares meals for a family.
More to come in a future post.
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