Daughter left early this morning, away for a year to study maths in a foreign country, on the Erasmus programme. The Erasmus programme encourages European students to take a year abroad to continue their studies. It's a great idea, and daughter has been delighted to be at a university that lets her do this.
Daughter has nowhere to live yet and is spending the first three nights in a youth hostel. My friends tell me she'll be fine and she rang a few minutes ago to say that she's arrived and fine and at the hostel, and met another Erasmus student, one that she might share a flat with for a year, a stranger that she doesn't yet know.
Lucky girl.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Happy anniversary
Today is brother and wife's pearl wedding anniversary. That's thirty years of marriage and cool! Congratulations.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Aerialists entertainment
At this academic conference activities were not just academic. I did have a link to my video on YouTube of an aerialist performance in the last session of the conference. But in 2012 or 2013, through LinkedIn, the performer asked me to take it down because it was no longer representative of her work.
Sillery
We stayed three nights in a very comfortable bed and breakfast outside Quebec city (blogged here earlier), in a suburb called Sillery. This is a very pleasant, quiet, and well off suburb with some lovely detached houses together with big old houses, schools, churches and and old cemetery. But the area is under threat of major building. A lot of land on the top of the cliff that has been religious property for centuries is being sold, and the purchasers expect to build lots of blocks of flats, which rather upsets the locals. They have created a coalition to preserve the historic environment of Sillery (CAHDS), and they have a rather nice looking web site here. It is, of course, all in French, but still worth a look.
Our landlady is the voice of the CAHDS group and told us a lot about Quebec history and politics.
Our landlady is the voice of the CAHDS group and told us a lot about Quebec history and politics.
Tromp d'oeil
This wall painting in Quebec is across the road from a cafe in Sillery, on Avenue Maguire. See map here. As you sit and drink, you see a balcony and next to it a same coloured balcony. But it takes a minute to realise what you're looking at is painted.I wonder if we could get someone to paint our wall like this, next to our balcony!
Montreal bikes
Husband explored Montreal, mainly on foot, but also hired bixis, which a cross between bikes and taxis. You put your credit card in the machine and you can then pull out a bike to borrow. It costs nothing if you use it for less than half an hour, so great for commuting, then the cost goes up the longer you have it, so not for touring really. However, if you return it to a stand in less than half an hour, wait five minutes and you can take a bike out again. That way, keep borrowing a bike, and you can take longer to get across the city and explore.
Where NOT to stay
Here's where we shouldn't have stayed! It's next door to this Erotika shop, and there's a building site outside. The whole of the street, St Catherine's street was being dug up and rebuilt, so our taxi driver couldn't drop us off right at the door, which was probably just as well seeing as how horrified he was to drop us at the corner of St Catherine St and St Laurent. He'd have been even more upset to leave us in front of such a shop.But the studio was big, and light, and the desk was manned 24 hours, so you felt secure. The bed was awful - you wouldn't want a bed like that for long, but tolerable and within work budget if I had to go again, and I was only there because work encouraged me to go to this academic conference. It was an opportunity too good to miss just because of low budgets and high costs.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Flew home
We left Montreal around one in the morning, English time, had dinner, 'slept' until we flew into the eastern dawn.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Maple cake
Just treated myself to afternoon tea of a maple syrup cake. The cherry on top is a ground cherry, a fruit of the Physalis family. It tastes something like a delicate tomato with a pineapple under taste and is quite pleasant. It's not sweet and goes well with the very sweet maple syrup that is in the cake.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Chez Pierre
We've moved to from the suburbs to the centre of Old Quebec, staying at Chez Pierre for our last few nights.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thieves
Friday the thirteenth - not a good day. Our hostess here at La California has lost all her reservation records.
Over breakfast this morning, she gave us the bad news.
Yesterday afternoon her Apple laptop was stolen, stolen by the other guests that we'd shared breakfast with. This couple, Patrick and Sylvie, had come for one night, at little notice, referred from somewhere else, and it was easy for them to move about because she had her car. Our hostess has never had anything stolen in ten years of B&Bing, but had enough doubts about this couple to get cash from them. They came with a large metallic pale-green car, the size of a small caravette, with a couple of bikes on the back, and I seem to remember at breakfast that they said something about cycling, though they didn't look as muscular or tanned as some cyclists. They spoke some English, she more than he, and said they worked in Montreal but lived in its suburbs, and that he worked in aircraft simulation, whatever that is. We chatted over breakfast, talked about blonde jokes, and she, an apparent redhead, with a mane thick enough to be a wig, said that she used to be blonde. We didn't find out much more about them but learned a lot about Montreal from our hostess who chatted lots. Later they came into our room to say goodbye - surprisingly friendly since we'd hardly talked.
Our hostess tells us that they left without returning one of her keys, came back in the afternoon, let themselves in and took the laptop. That they didn't take more was because she had a friend staying who was in the shower for fifteen minutes and they couldn't have told where in the house she was and when she would appear and catch them. If caught, they could have said that they were just returning the key. However, I think, that only one of them came in the house, that the other remained on the other side of the road, watching and ready to warn of the hostess returning. I suspect that they returned on their bikes, that one bike would have been parked right outside the house, ready for a hasty exit, without leaving number plate evidence, without making a noise on the gravel. The one who came in would have had a back pack, stuffed the Apple in the bag, and cycled off on the bike very quickly to wherever the other was waiting in the car. That's what someone did at work about a year ago.
So our hostess has lost her computer, a ten year old one with a bug on it, and with all her B&B reservations, and no back up. Now she doesn't know who's coming when, though fortunately she doesn't keep peoples' credit card numbers on there, thank goodness. If you booked here, then contact her to help her record her reservations again.
We have a sadder, wiser hostess.
Over breakfast this morning, she gave us the bad news.
Yesterday afternoon her Apple laptop was stolen, stolen by the other guests that we'd shared breakfast with. This couple, Patrick and Sylvie, had come for one night, at little notice, referred from somewhere else, and it was easy for them to move about because she had her car. Our hostess has never had anything stolen in ten years of B&Bing, but had enough doubts about this couple to get cash from them. They came with a large metallic pale-green car, the size of a small caravette, with a couple of bikes on the back, and I seem to remember at breakfast that they said something about cycling, though they didn't look as muscular or tanned as some cyclists. They spoke some English, she more than he, and said they worked in Montreal but lived in its suburbs, and that he worked in aircraft simulation, whatever that is. We chatted over breakfast, talked about blonde jokes, and she, an apparent redhead, with a mane thick enough to be a wig, said that she used to be blonde. We didn't find out much more about them but learned a lot about Montreal from our hostess who chatted lots. Later they came into our room to say goodbye - surprisingly friendly since we'd hardly talked.
Our hostess tells us that they left without returning one of her keys, came back in the afternoon, let themselves in and took the laptop. That they didn't take more was because she had a friend staying who was in the shower for fifteen minutes and they couldn't have told where in the house she was and when she would appear and catch them. If caught, they could have said that they were just returning the key. However, I think, that only one of them came in the house, that the other remained on the other side of the road, watching and ready to warn of the hostess returning. I suspect that they returned on their bikes, that one bike would have been parked right outside the house, ready for a hasty exit, without leaving number plate evidence, without making a noise on the gravel. The one who came in would have had a back pack, stuffed the Apple in the bag, and cycled off on the bike very quickly to wherever the other was waiting in the car. That's what someone did at work about a year ago.
So our hostess has lost her computer, a ten year old one with a bug on it, and with all her B&B reservations, and no back up. Now she doesn't know who's coming when, though fortunately she doesn't keep peoples' credit card numbers on there, thank goodness. If you booked here, then contact her to help her record her reservations again.
We have a sadder, wiser hostess.
Quebec people
Quebecois, Quebecians? These people of Quebec are amazingly friendly. I'm not too surprised that our B&B hostess chats, because people who run B&Bs usually like to talk with their guests, but to find some stranger on the bus who goes out of his way to help us is amazing.
Looking at the bus plan as it carried us back from the city to our B&B, the gentleman across the aisle asked me if I knew my way and offered to hep. He spoke in French of course and I answered inn French then turned to husband to confirm our stop in English. The gentleman realised we were tourists, told us we were a long way from our stop, but that he was local, his car was nearby, to get off with him and he would drive us to our destination, which was very kind of him, but we, or rather husband, knew just how far we had to go and where we were. The problem was a confusion of the the name of the bus stop that husband was referring to by the name of a supermarket and gentleman understood as the name of a road somewhere else. So gentleman insisted on staying on the bus, accompanied us to our stop and then missing his own stop walked back to get his car.
In the evening, waiting to catch a bus again, the same gentleman was at the supermarket and insisted on giving us a lift, taking us on a detour to see the river front and admire the view. When he dropped us off, he gave us his phone number and offered to drive us into Quebec old town this evening, to give us a tour. He said that as a young man, he had wanted to be a tourist guide but at that time didn't have enough English, and now he could at last be a tourist guide. What an amazing person.
Looking at the bus plan as it carried us back from the city to our B&B, the gentleman across the aisle asked me if I knew my way and offered to hep. He spoke in French of course and I answered inn French then turned to husband to confirm our stop in English. The gentleman realised we were tourists, told us we were a long way from our stop, but that he was local, his car was nearby, to get off with him and he would drive us to our destination, which was very kind of him, but we, or rather husband, knew just how far we had to go and where we were. The problem was a confusion of the the name of the bus stop that husband was referring to by the name of a supermarket and gentleman understood as the name of a road somewhere else. So gentleman insisted on staying on the bus, accompanied us to our stop and then missing his own stop walked back to get his car.
In the evening, waiting to catch a bus again, the same gentleman was at the supermarket and insisted on giving us a lift, taking us on a detour to see the river front and admire the view. When he dropped us off, he gave us his phone number and offered to drive us into Quebec old town this evening, to give us a tour. He said that as a young man, he had wanted to be a tourist guide but at that time didn't have enough English, and now he could at last be a tourist guide. What an amazing person.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Quebec city bed and breakfast
We're spending a few nights in this bed and breakfast. In contrast to the plastic covered mattresses of our last place, this is luxury. The mattresses are huge, firm and soft. The floor has a thick rug, the shower is sparkling with fresh paint. And our hostess is so willing to talk to us, as if we're guests, not just paying guests. She offered to fetch us from the train station, is willing to lend us her bicycle, tells us we can sit in her garden, and I've even been picking her raspberries.
Over breakfast she tells us (there is another couple here) that Quebec is a very safe city, of only seven million people and that people leave their doors open because they have nothing worth stealing. So it sounds great until she tells us how high the taxes are, and they sound high. However the country does provide free health care and university education. She knows and tells us about Quebec history, and is passionately proud of her heritage. She is also very sociable because there are always people in her house, friends, a sister, a mother with her new baby, a neighbour.
Our hostess is busy petitioning the local authority to conserve the local area where many plots of land are up for sale, almost all to be sold by local religious bodies to pay off fines for the pedophilia scandals. The problem is that the plots will then be used to build a thousand condominiums, which will loose the character of the area, not to mention what it will do for house prices.
Over breakfast she tells us (there is another couple here) that Quebec is a very safe city, of only seven million people and that people leave their doors open because they have nothing worth stealing. So it sounds great until she tells us how high the taxes are, and they sound high. However the country does provide free health care and university education. She knows and tells us about Quebec history, and is passionately proud of her heritage. She is also very sociable because there are always people in her house, friends, a sister, a mother with her new baby, a neighbour.
Our hostess is busy petitioning the local authority to conserve the local area where many plots of land are up for sale, almost all to be sold by local religious bodies to pay off fines for the pedophilia scandals. The problem is that the plots will then be used to build a thousand condominiums, which will loose the character of the area, not to mention what it will do for house prices.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Conspirations to confuse
Daughter and I skyped last night. She told me that auntie's district council had rung about some problem of aunty ringing people and asking them for money. Now it's sorted, I can see aunty would be confused
Preconditions
The previous tenant had speed dialing to a Jane C
Aunty rings a different Jane (G) to ask where her bank book is because she wants cash
Consequences
Jane C answers the phone, realises she has a confused old lady asking for money so warns the council.
Council check records for the person with legal power of attorney and rings me (or daughter because I'm not there)
Now we understand the problem, someone is going to aunty's to change the speed dial numbers.
Moral
Learn phone numbers by heart and don't use speed dial
Preconditions
The previous tenant had speed dialing to a Jane C
Aunty rings a different Jane (G) to ask where her bank book is because she wants cash
Consequences
Jane C answers the phone, realises she has a confused old lady asking for money so warns the council.
Council check records for the person with legal power of attorney and rings me (or daughter because I'm not there)
Now we understand the problem, someone is going to aunty's to change the speed dial numbers.
Moral
Learn phone numbers by heart and don't use speed dial
Speaking French in Montreal
In Montreal, if you speak French, the francophones are pleased, yet if you get stuck and speak English, they are happy to speak English. And they speak English without the accent that French people have.
English is my mother tongue, but the reason I learned French is because of Montreal, and the story goes back over a hundred years to a little Scottish village where my great grandfather became "the carpenter who drowned in the moss".
This drowned carpenter left a widow with four children, two teenage daughters and two little boys. The elder daughter, Margaret Jean, set out at the age of 16 to find a new life in Canada, at Montreal with "a pound in her pocket". When she had settled, and found work, she sent for her mother and two little brothers, while her sister, stayed in Glasgow, looked after by her grandmother's cousin.
Some ten years later, friends of my Aunty Jean visited her when their ship docked in Canada, and she asked one of them to take a parcel back to her sister in Glasgow, another port. Thus, that ship's engineer met and married my grandmother.
My grandfather was a seasick sailor whose family hailed from Liverpool. At that time, his ship often went to Le Havre, a small port on the north coast of Normandy, too small to load and unload the ships very quickly, so he tended to spend more time in France than in Liverpool. So he moved his young wife and first born child to live at Le Havre for a few years before world war I, which is how our family came to know two sisters from La famille Moulin.
Half a century later, one of these sisters and her nephew's family taught me to speak French. What goes around comes around, and now I speak French in Montreal, where my grandmother's sister spoke only English.
English is my mother tongue, but the reason I learned French is because of Montreal, and the story goes back over a hundred years to a little Scottish village where my great grandfather became "the carpenter who drowned in the moss".
This drowned carpenter left a widow with four children, two teenage daughters and two little boys. The elder daughter, Margaret Jean, set out at the age of 16 to find a new life in Canada, at Montreal with "a pound in her pocket". When she had settled, and found work, she sent for her mother and two little brothers, while her sister, stayed in Glasgow, looked after by her grandmother's cousin.
Some ten years later, friends of my Aunty Jean visited her when their ship docked in Canada, and she asked one of them to take a parcel back to her sister in Glasgow, another port. Thus, that ship's engineer met and married my grandmother.
My grandfather was a seasick sailor whose family hailed from Liverpool. At that time, his ship often went to Le Havre, a small port on the north coast of Normandy, too small to load and unload the ships very quickly, so he tended to spend more time in France than in Liverpool. So he moved his young wife and first born child to live at Le Havre for a few years before world war I, which is how our family came to know two sisters from La famille Moulin.
Half a century later, one of these sisters and her nephew's family taught me to speak French. What goes around comes around, and now I speak French in Montreal, where my grandmother's sister spoke only English.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Touring Montreal
Montreal is a nice city for walking round and lots going on. Today we paid a quick visit to the Adler art exhibition, where the theme related to business.
The conference organised a trip round three Montreal businesses, (see my Phd blog here for details) and in the evening husband and I went on a boat tour though it was too wet to see much out of the boat.
The conference organised a trip round three Montreal businesses, (see my Phd blog here for details) and in the evening husband and I went on a boat tour though it was too wet to see much out of the boat.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Seedy side of Montreal
Husband is discovering aspects of Montreal that perhaps the organisers of this conference hadn't intended us to discover.
For instance, he went out early Friday morning, early Canadian time, but we're still on UK body clock, to look for breakfast, when a black woman came up to him and asked him if he wanted 'company'.
Then, today, when he tried to negotiate the steps into the hotel, there were some youngsters sitting there smoking. One announced, "Hey man! We're just smoking a bit of weed." and the stubs on the step are the evidence of that activity.
So these stories tell of a more interesting side of the city.
For instance, he went out early Friday morning, early Canadian time, but we're still on UK body clock, to look for breakfast, when a black woman came up to him and asked him if he wanted 'company'.
Then, today, when he tried to negotiate the steps into the hotel, there were some youngsters sitting there smoking. One announced, "Hey man! We're just smoking a bit of weed." and the stubs on the step are the evidence of that activity.
So these stories tell of a more interesting side of the city.
Thursday, August 05, 2010
Not salubrious
"This area is full of drugs and prostitutes!"remonstrated our taxi driver as he dropped us off at our hotel, Abri du Voyageur
This is not an auspicious start to our stay in Montreal. we have a studio flat for a week. The flat is ok, (I have internet access on my eeePC) but it's the sort of area I wouldn't want my son or daughter to stay, but they are not with me. Daughter is alone at home - again a tad worrying and son is staying on at uni on a grant to build a fusion reactor this summer - quite exciting. Husband will explore, and cycle while I attend an academic conference.
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