Montreal: the Homestretch

Friday, October 14th
Friday was to be our last full day in Montreal before traveling home so we were going to take it easy, get a late start, and not spend too much time away from home base. The first mundane task of the day though was that John was going to drive me to a local Walmart to get cough syrup for Frank who was fighting an uphill battle against whatever bug he had. John and I stepped outside the front door, mildly surprised to see the windshield of his car frosted over.

Since he and Sue had driven up from the Boston area, I figured their car must be equipped with snow removal tools, and asked for one. John got out a scraper and was beginning to clear the ⅛" layer of frost. I said, " You must be pretty good at this. You probably do it every day in those Boston winters". John quipped back "Nah, I park the car in the garage".

I asked for a second tool and said cheerily, "Let me help. I don't mind." Then I added, just a tad smugly, "I rarely get the opportunity in California." Once the windshield was defrosted, John was still gracious enough to shuttle me to the drug store.

I got the cough syrup for Frank and we returned. We entered the northeast-facing front door of the house, passing the mudroom area on our right. Our collection of shoes was evidence we had gotten quite comfortable there.

Also in the mudroom immediately to our right, was our array of jackets and over-shirts, hung neatly, awaiting our next excursion. For Frank and me that would be when we left for the airport the next day. John & Sue and Joe & Margaret would make one more trip, without us, to visit a canal museum

Immediately to the left upon entry was a glass enclosed staircase, supporting the open concept philosophy of renovations these days that tries to knock down all barriers to the passage of light. Watch any design show. This staircase was quite unique though. It took each of us a couple days to remember where to enter to go which direction. I fought the instinctive reflex to stop abruptly each time I walked past that square hole in the floor ahead of me. The staircase also had no railings. I was glad I was not going to be the one cleaning all those handprints off the glass walls from folks climbing up and down those steps using the glass panels for security and balance. On the other hand, it is probably safest to keep the glass dirty and smudged.

Straight ahead, the view upon entering the home was a spacious kitchen in the west corner with an open concept layout. See those two highly styled modern faucets at the main sink and the sink in the island? Each of us experienced a lingering learning curve regarding the idiosyncrasies of those faucets. Mainly by trial and error, we gradually decreased the frequency with which we drenched the counters and dampened our clothes. We repeatedly learned our lesson the wet way. Our spirits, though, were not dampened. Each error evoked a startled reaction followed by a peal of laughter.

Looking toward the kitchen from the south corner showed a seating area that looked southwest out onto a patio and backyard.

The yard was inviting – small but modestly and nicely landscaped.

The dining table and six bright orange chairs in the south corner was great for meals and puzzles and games. In this photo is also a better view of that open concept stairwell first encountered in the entry way.

The artwork in the dining area had been hand painted by our hostess. The area was also a place conducive to reading.

Next to the dining area, in the east corner, was a television viewing area. The artwork there was not to my taste. The scale filled the expansive wall space, but then again, Sumo wrestlers are big enough to fill just about any area. Other than a common theme of BIG, I did not see how the paintings complemented each other – not in color, not in subject matter, not in emotions evoked. At least when facing the television I did not see the thong partitioned butt hanging above my head. Actually, as we sat on the futon/couch, Frank's head was underneath the left wrestler, not mine. I sat under the guy on the right doing the plié with arms outstretched as if to give a big hug. No thank you!

Since Frank did not feel well, he and I stayed home resting, reading, and watching a couple movies on Netflix while John & Sue and Joe & Margaret set off to visit a canal museum back in the Notre Dame Basilica region of old Montreal. Good fortune smiled on Frank and me because both movies we selected to watch were engaging and enjoyable - what are the odds, right? We watched the 2016 movie In-Lawfully Yours and the 2009 movie The Rebound.

In-Lawfully Yours had a Hallmark movie type feel to it, so great literature it was not, but it was a charming, predictable (though not sappy), feel-good romance none-the-less. Frank and I both liked it.

The Rebound was a little deeper. Its plot line follows a budding relationship between a guy in his twenties and an older more mature woman, played by Catherine Zeta-Jones. He initially meets her in a women's self defense class she takes because of being divorced and recently relocated to New York City. He moves on to become a hired sitter for her two children and the relationship develops from there. It had some very funny scenes, some poignant scenes, and some downright sad scenes. I recommend it. It does make you think about the role that age difference plays in a relationship.

John & Sue and Joe & Margaret came back with some pastries to share. I liked the unique package design. The cardboard "box" with all the softly-rounded edges unwrapped by peeling back the first flap that was slit to fit over the handle. It sheltered a lemon meringue tart within its curved sides.

After one final evening of visiting and conversation we all retreated to our bedrooms on the upper second and third levels – all of us that is except Frank. Frank, for our final two nights, retired in a public area in the basement, that we had barely used. Frank slept down here so he could be propped vertical and so his violently coughing kept only him awake most of the night and not the rest of the household. I think maybe most of us did shoot a basket or two in the game seen in the background but that was about it. We had had a great visit and vacation but it was timely to be heading home to rest and reflect and, in Frank's case, to recover.

Saturday, October 15th
John & Sue left first in the morning since they were driving and wanted to be back to their home by 4:30 pm. We decided John had the longest arms so we all sat in that transparent stairwell and he took a selfie of the six of us.

Joe & Margaret and Frank & I had mid-afternoon flights and would be leaving late morning. Frank and I had our first experience using Uber, a real time, web based, taxi-type service. We shared a ride with Joe & Margaret. It was obvious I was a newbie at this. I stood outside watching for our driver to arrive. Margaret waited comfortably indoors and tracked its progress from the map displayed by the app on her iPhone. We rode together to YUL, Montreal's airport. Joe & Margaret had a direct flight from Montreal to Washington DC. We parted with Joe & Margaret at the ticket check-in counter since each couple had a different path passing through customs.

The itinerary for Frank and me took us from Montreal to Toronto to San Francisco; basically a 1 hour 20 min flight, 1 hour 20 min layover, and then a 6 hour flight. Frank and I had expected our customs process to be upon arrival at our destination airport but we were wrong. Customs for us was in Canada on both our outgoing and returning flights – in Montreal upon arrival and in Toronto upon departure. For our processing at Toronto Frank and passed this unique structure as we scurried along the circuitous second level path from one customs line to another. This different, leafy away to display the status board of arriving and departing flights caught my eye as worthy of a quick photo on our run (literally) to make our flight. Even with a 1 hour 20 min layover in Toronto, customs processing took long enough that we barely, just barely, boarded our flight to San Francisco before its departure time. Then we sat on the plane and waited about 45 minutes for our pilot and co-pilot who, ironically, had been delayed by... going through customs. 

Our flight to SFO had a few bumps but, other than its auspicious beginning, was relatively uneventful. We deplaned, waiting quite a long while to retrieve our luggage, long enough we were getting nervous about it being on the same flight as us. But it was and we began the remaining ground portion of our journey home, taking the shuttle bus to the parking garage, riding the elevator to the correct floor in the garage, walking to the correct aisle on that floor, and locating the car. I harkened back to the first cell phone  photo I had take for this trip. It was our parking garage location. Who can remember something like that for a week? Once in our car, we spiraled five floors down the end ramp to exit. Both of us admitted we were a bit car sick and nauseous from all that circular motion by the time we reached the bottom. It was raining that evening as Frank drove us home. We were tired and glad to be home.

Sunday, October 16th (and beyond)
I unpacked our suitcases and did laundry the very next day. As you can, see it took me three weeks to complete blogging about it all. The documentation process was hampered by Frank and me both being confirmed sick by doctors' visits and a delightful accompanying suite of medications. We are on the mend now though energy levels are taking their time getting back to normal. Here is a summary of our expeditions in brochure form to remind us where we went.

Here is the summary in ticket form to prove it really was us who went there.

At customs we collected stamps in our passports. Our only other souvenirs and proof that we'd "... been there, done that ..." were the grocery bag from the Metro grocery market where we food shopped and next to it the paper bag from when we bought muffins just before boarding for our Montreal to Toronto flight. We had nothing to declare at customs. Yay!

It wasn't Southwest Airlines - our usual carrier, but we still saved the complimentary bag of pretzels from Air Canada for Alex. Some travel traditions know no borders.