Heading West

4am and I'm up, washing my face. My God. I have to be at school in two days.

We wait outside the Holiday Inn ... sort of. The shuttle stop isn't clearly marked on the map, so we're waiting at an intersection in hopes of flagging the shuttle down. Taxis are honking at us. Men are shouting things like,"$45 flat rate to the airport! $45!" No thanks. We already paid for our transportation. Even though it's late.

15 minutes late, to be exact. Oh well, the service was uber friendly. We slowly made our way to the airport and hung out at the gate. I managed to spill the berry salad ALL OVER my purse, getting pecans in the most inappropriate places. Berry stains on my white hoodie. But the salad was so delicious. But it was too early. I couldn't eat it all. Sable ate my berries. I chucked the rest. I drank my cranberry juice and drugged myself up for the trip. Mmmm ... Gravol.

We boarded the plane at last and I slept through most of it. Except for a brief time where I woke up and my tv was showing Ellen. She was talking about going to Universal Studios. I fell asleep again immediately. I didn't wake up until we landed in Edmonton, about 9:20am. Yay! I was home!

Home is a beautiful thing. I just don't know it because I don't travel often enough. But it is. And slushy Edmonton was beautiful on Saturday morning. I couldn't wait to see my peeps!!

When it was all done, I was glad that I had gone. I wish that we had had more time for things like museums and other touristy attractions, but I felt like I got a good feel for Toronto, at least. I'll go back to Montreal. Not just for the stopping, but maybe to stay for a while. It's cool. Plus I want to brush up on my French.

Edmonton is nice for now. Homeward bound.

I gots a Bag!

Friday was the final day that we could hunt for my bag. "Jules, I'll find you a Matt and Nat bag if it's the last thing I do before I leave Toronto!" Man, when Sable's determined, things happen. She mapped out our route beforehand. To Yorkdale mall, where there are plenty of stores to make the bag happen.

In case I didn't fill you in on this, because I don't think I did, I wanted to find a nice bag while I was out east. Bentley at West Ed does not fulfill this purpose. Even Aldo is dull. I wanted something truly hip and good quality. Something that I didn't have to throw away in a year. Coach or Matt and Nat would work. If I hadn't bought so much at Simons, I suppose I could have bought a Coach bag. But then ... that's for New York now :)

ANYHOO, we headed to Yorkdale via the Rocket. We shopped all morning, from 9-12. It was a good session. We saw a very outletey-outlet. We tried to hunt down a cool tea traveller at lululemon but to no avail. We hunted down Matt and Nat. Nobody knew what they were in Toronto. One lady said they weren't in this mall. Sable rolled her eyes and said she would find one. And she did!

There's a store called B2, which is the younger, hipper version of Brown's. Brown's is a LARGE shoe company that carries EVERY kind of shoe you can think of. Every brand. Brown's in Montreal had nothing interesting but the Brown's here carried Matt and Nat. Not the one that I wanted though :( I ended up purchasing an equally cool bag, even though the salesman wanted me to buy a larger, bulkier bag because it looked better on me. No no - I want this one. Matt and Nat bags come with a carrier bag inside that carries the Matt and Nat bag. They left that bag in my purse and wrapped it in a cloth Brown's bag. Then put THAT bag into a plastic shopping bag with PVC handles. 4 bags for the price of 1! Gross.

We looked throught their GIGANTIC Holt Renfrew, with Marc by Marc Jacobs and Louis Vuitton. We tried out Coach bags. Looked for hair accessories. We had lunch in the upstairs foodcourt then headed for The Path.

The Path is the underground shopping district in Toronto. It is the largest underground shopping hub in the world. You can enter The Path from any subway station, though it's not always easy to find. The one by St. Andrew's is clearly labelled. We walked through, buying nothing. It was interesting and full of cool places. Wait ... I lied. We did buy a few postcards. It was good. We went to a market called Fresh n' Wild where we bought berry salads and banana bread for breakfast for the next day. Planning ahead is essential!

We headed back to the hostel where I fell asleep "studying". I dreamt about my significant other because I think I missed him, even though I wouldn't ever say so out loud. Then Sable's phone rang and nearly stopped my heart. Her cousin Calvin called and wanted to pick us up for dinner. We got into dress formation for Dirty Dancing, then met him outside.

As we were getting dressed, one of the girls we shared a room with came in. She asked how long we were staying. I said we leave tomorrow morning. She nodded. Short holiday. I laughed. You know it. I asked her how long she would be here. She laughed then shrugged. She said she had a problem with her hands - then held them out - that kept her here. The hospital said she couldn't go home until her condition was stabilized.

Here fingers were deformed at the tips and completely black. It's what you see when organs die. Tissue necropsy. I tried not to cringe. Does it hurt? "Like hell." What happened? She didn't know. One day, she was fine, taking a holiday in Toronto; the next day, she was in a hospital being told she had an autoimmune condition. "The doctors told me my immune system was attacking some disease that ain't there. So there's a lot of stuff in my blood and it's causing these clots." I asked if she was given anti-coagulants. She looked at me like I was Jesus. "Yeah, yeah! And they gave me blood pressure pills and pain pills. Just about everything you could think of." I nodded. She said she was sure that it was her poor diet. I shook my head. Autoimmune conditions are nobody's fault. Anything can trigger them and nobody can predict them. It's not her fault. She wasn't convinced. We had to leave before I could tell her anymore. I told her to feel better and that I hoped she could go home soon. Where did she live? She smiled wryly. Florida. She's sick of snow now.

I waved at traffic aimlessly to signal to Sable's cousin where we were. Renee, Sable's sister-in-law was with him. He drove us to Richtree Market, which is a sort of buffet-style restaurant where you get a credit card that scans everytime you purchase an item. Then, at the end of your meal, you bring the card to a cashier who will take your payment there. But if you lose your card, you have to pay $100 fine or do dishes. Plus, you need a receipt to exit. So it's pretty hardcore. I had roast porkloin with rosti potatoes and a banana-strawberry napoleon. It was amazing. Then we went to Dirty Dancing!

Man, I wish I had the body of the girl who played Penny. She's frickin' beautiful. Legs that extend two feet above her head and strong strong strong strong strong. But she's also about six feet tall and 120lbs. The little Asian girl from the third season of Canadian Idol joined the guy who sang everything to sing all of the important songs from the movie. I .... had the time of my life ... cool. I liked it a lot, even though it was much abbreviated from the movie. I missed Baby's nose though. And her sister should sing like shit, not like a broadway star, dammit! Oh well. Still enjoyable, especially the lifts in water. Electronic screens do wonders.

A walk back home made me chilly, but off to bed as 12am for a 4am wake-up. And I'm still singing the songs in my head.

Coach and Shoes

7:30am
There is something about travelling in the morning that makes me reflective. The sun is up just outside of Montreal. The snow is bright. Small, rural houses blow white smoke out of their brick chimneys. I am being carried away on a train.

I wonder if I could live in Montreal. I don't think Toronto is a city for me in a permanent sense. I suppose I could live in TO for a year or two, but the vast urbanscape is wearing. I like trees, hills, rows of flax. I like the Prairies in an aesthetic sense.

Granted, Toronto doesn't sleep. People are always going, with people wandering the streets at 4am just about the same as when they roam the streets at 10am. Little shops are always open, there's 24 h grocery stores, and there's always a place to just hang out. Montreal goes to sleep at 7pm, so you'll have to be home before then if you want to stay warm.

But, for me, Toronto is just too urban. People walk everywhere without stopping to look or think or dream. I think Edmonton is still small enough that you can stop and think for a second without getting trampled. In TO, you have to go, go, go. On the Rocket. Off the Rocket. Onto Bloor. Yonge. Queen. Spadina. Crazy.

Montreal can be this way when you hit the heart of downtown. Rue St. Catherine Ouest is where you can be trampled. Pedestrians dash between speeding cars, just so that they can get to the other side and do it again in the next 100 metres. They do it without flinching.

But the people in Montreal are warm. They speak English if you need. They aren't the bastards that everyone makes them out to be. Maybe if we were in Quebec where EVERYBODY speaks French, they wouldn't be so tolerant, but in Montreal, you are so close to the Ontario-Quebec border that bilingualism is more of a necessity than it is an asset. I like Montreal. It has all the facets of a great city, with its truly poor parts completely contiguous with its truly rich parts. You just have to walk south to north to see it all. It has a well developed underground and above ground transit system. Le Metro et les autobuses. It feels like a real big city without the urban landscape that Toronto has. Toronto is all about glass and walls. Montreal has windows and trees and normal things. And a whole lot of hills. It's a rhythm, I suppose.

11:15am
Checking in at Clarence Castle again. Oliver greets us with a big smile and a, "Sable and Friends!" I ask not to be pluralized again without my permission. He smiles. "But I forget which one of you is Sable ...".

After changing, applying lipstick (real lipstick, with dark colour and everything!), and waiting for some guy to arrange to get his cat from Vancouver, we called Sable's friend Justin to try and meet up with him. We ended up texting him from my phone, so hopefully there's no long distance charges for text messages ...

We met him at East! on Queen and St. Patrick's Market. It's a fusian asian place. Sable and I shared Sexy Summer Rolls, which were thin slices of smoked salmon, prawns, vermicelli, and veggies in a rice wrap. We shared a house pad thai, with chicken and prawns, and talked with Justin for a while. He asked if we wanted dessert and we said,"Sure!".

He drove us in his car downtown, whipping around the UofT in a record 10minutes. We made fun of school children who had to spend their day at the Uof T, even though they were four. Getting an early head start, we supposed. Oh God. Those poor children. The design school is held up by giant ... pencils? They look like coloured chopsticks, but they are supposed to be pencils. The top is a large slab of black and white tile. The library is supposed to be shaped like a peacock ...? I don't see it. Physics building was. Shudder.

Yorkville mall is much too swanky for me. It was upscale enough to make me feel uncomfortable. Like, if I worked there, I would be watching me too, with my ugly Esprit hobo bag and odd purple jacket. There are four Hugo Bosses within a square mile. Over the Rainbow is way overrated. The jeans aren't even that nice, but are worth $300, apparently.



On our way out of Yorkville, when we realized that Coach is in YorkDALE and not YorkVILLE, we saw an ice-sculpting contest. They were unloading their ice that has to be shipped here in pre-formed pieces. There was a treasure chest and sea horses already standing. A mermaid was in process but still in pieces. Looked cool! The lady had to shoo away hobos, as they seemed fascinated with the ice and wanted to plunk themselves down to beg in front of a big public draw. Too bad for them.

Bloor offered numerous shopping opportunities .... for Justin. He bought shoes and some stationary gifts for people. Sable bought a long-anticipated pendant from Coach that ended up being oddly spherical. But still cool. Just spherical. We searched for Matt and Nat bags, but to no avail. The Pet Boutique, however, let me handle pink velour hoodies by Juicy Couture that cost $128. God - I don't even have clothing that expensive for myself, let alone a dog. I bought my mom and Melissa some gourmet dog treats. There was a Christian Dior t-shirt on-sale, so I bought an XL for Dilly and a pin that reads "I love my chihuahua" for my mom. I hope the dogs like the Pupcakes!

Then we headed to a cafe on Bay and Yorkville called Pusaterie where we sampled 7 - count them - SEVEN different delectable treats, courtesy of Justin. Key lime chocolate, berry, lemon meringue, chcolate, tiramisu, almond meringue, and a caramel meringue. SO. GOOD. They also served free water containing lemon, lime, grapefruit, strawberry, and cucumber. I resolved to make some when I got home. Erotic chocolate bars. Enough said.

Dawn joined later and ended up spilling her wonderful salad from Fresh! Not the avocadoes! Sable and her gathered the sprouts and avocadoes from off Dawn's purse and legs. The floor was scavenged, but then abandoned. Alas, most of the avocadoes were done. But most of the salad was intact, so the green dressing went down, and the salad was eaten. We cleaned up and took off to the Bata Shoe Museum.



Pablo Picasso had zebra shoes! Shaquille O'Neal is a freakin' size 23. Christian shoes contain the papal seal. We bought a gift for Nicole then headed off for dinner.




Everybody had recommended New Generation on Bloor, just west of Spadina, but we tried and couldn't get in. Far too busy in such a small place. So we crossed the street and tried the least shady sushi place we could find. J-time offered us a wonderful combo of 8 california rolls, 8 CNE rolls, and 6 spicy tuna rolls. We drank green tea and passed the time amiably, eating the large amount of sushi and tempura in front of us. Then we ordered green tea ice cream and found out it was on the house! The Cantonese people that owned the place were super nice. I would recommend the place for delicious sushi!



Dawn called and met us at St. George's station. We took the Rocket to Bathurst, boarded a streetcar (no, not named Desire) to College. Walked to Dawn's apartment. We met Sarah's, Dawn's roommate, guinea pig, Bella. she was fat and cute. We tried to convince her to go to Mod Night, but she was already going to a salsa function the next night and wanted to get work done. C'est la vie. After a handful of almonds for Dawn, we left.

The Mod Club is AWESOME. Even though we came super early, at about 10. Not too many people were there, but that meant that I could really see the place. It's really like a concert venue rather than a club, with a big stage and huge sound. Large screens flank the raised stage and small, white tableclothed tables sit near the back of the dance floor. Each table is it by a small tealight. There was Brit Pop radio being broadcast and it was pretty groovy. The bartenders don't have tip jars and don't seem to want them. They're fast, as long as you know what you want. A gin and tonic? Right up. Two malibu sunrises for Sable and Dawn. We sat and grooved for a while. Watched the bouncers greet each other. Watched the psychedelic movie screens. Looked at past concert photos of Metric and Death Cab for Cutie. If you want to start big in music, you have to start here. It would be a cool place to start, that's for sure. We left early so that Dawn could get some sleep.

We headed to Dominion, a 24h grocery store and bought a berry salad and chicken wraps for tomorrow's lunch. We walked Dawn back, caught a street car up College to Spadina and Spadina to King. Off to bed. Another day well spent. The liquor had made me warm and overly happy. Mmmm ... sleep.

Mercredi en Montreal

I awoke Wednesday to find the person on the bunk across from me staring right at me. Oh God. I rolled over and rocked myself gently until I mustered the courage to go take a shower. Oh wait - the bathrooms weren't free. Who the hell is ALWAYS showering? I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and drummed my fingers until the person exited and I jumped in the shower immediately. Sable and I were going shopping today.

I was so excited that I left my shampoo and conditioner in the shower. I hopped out, dressed, and we headed out for McGill. McGill is easy to enter from Rue Sherbrooke and is just a few stops from Berri-Uqam. We took pictures, hunted down the bookstore, bought a few paraphernalia items, then headed for the malls. I needed a TD, so we hunted for one of those as well. Note to self and others: TD has virtually no locations in Montreal. We had to hunt down an obscure street down Sherbrooke and interstecting at Parc, which eventually turned into Bleury where a TD Canada Trust lay on the intersection of Bleury and St. Catherine's.

Oh my. The north side of St. Catherine's was beautiful. New York-like. Tall, grand stores with long, colourful banners and wide, glassy storefronts. Bustling with life and people. Notably free of sex shops. We did everything. Guys - I LOVE Simons. It's an amazing department store with beautiful clothing that gives you slight aneurysms from all of the colour and the sheer quantity of good stuff you can buy. I over spent by buying a trench, a basic cream V-neck cardigan, and a plaid zip-up mockneck sweater, but it was so worth it. They are beautiful. I wanted to buy a pair of pink jelly shoes, but they were $20, and I needed dinner too, so I waited.

Now, I had been on the hunt for a good handbag. Since we were in Montreal, we looked for Mat and Nat and found a really cool green sporty one that had pockets on the front and cute little buckles and a nice sized strap. But I wanted to save myself to look for Coach stuff instead, so I left it. OH! I left it! Bad Julia! Good things always happen when you give in to impulse!

We went to Ogilvy to look for a feather headband for Sable's mom. Ogilvy is a very upscale store, like the stores you see on movies where the sales associate won't let you touch anything and looks at you suspiciously until you buy something. Sort of fun to look through, though.

Lunch at Reuben's, where their specialty is smoked meat. I had half of a gigantic burger and I packed the rest away. Back to the hostel.

We decided that we would go to the main boutique for mat & nat because that would be where the most unique bags would be, right? Since they are manufactured in Montreal, it would make sense that they would have an exclusive boutique. We looked it up online and found a location at Rue Chabanel, north of the end of St. Laurent. If anyone is familiar with the east, they would know that St. Laurent is rather long. They would also know that the Trans-Canada Highway intersects at the end of St. Laurent and that we were going north of that. Sable suggested it was their warehouse. I said there were still shops around. It could happen.

No it couldn't. We walked to the office building where we found their corporate headquarters on the fourth floor. Oh. We're so done. We took a picture with their metallic philosophy, then ran for the bus, which was just heading back parallel to St. Laurent. We got off at Sherbooke and headed for the Gogo-Lounge on St. Laurent, picking up pastries at a bakery on St. Laurent for tomorrow's breakfast.

So cool! The seats are shaped like palms of hands. The feeling is psychedelic and the lighting is red. The bartender looks like Buddy Holly and sports a tight black t-shirt proclaiming J'adore GoGo. I order a Twister, which is a grapefruit juice, peach schnapps, and cointreau concoction. He serves us Bits and Bites in a martini glass. The menus are on old LPs. 6pm on a Wednesday. The bar is empty. We are so cool.

A guy does a mime act to make us smile outside the window. I pray to God that he doesn't come in. He doesn't, he waves and walks off when he gets his unamused look from Sable and my ever-obliging laugh. Two old men enter and order drinks. We leave before they figure out that we are not francophones.

We head back to the hostel by streetcar where we find kindred spirits from Vancouver. They felt alienated by the French. We also met Americans who were surprised that the lunar eclipse takes "several hours!". Sable and I were happy to discover that the showers were free. 12am sleep for a 5:30am rise.

Mardi en Montreal

Oh Mardi Gras.

A 6:55am train saw us rise at 5am to catch our train. Supposedly, we were supposed to check in a half an hour early to check our baggage BUT only certain trains allow you to check baggage. Apparently, our train is carry-on only. So we hobo'd it out at the gate until it was time to board.

The train ride was long and we made about 8 stops. I realized, very quickly, that the Ontario-Quebec countryside was not very different from Alberta's. In fact, heading out of Toronto, you feel as though you are driving down Yellowhead Trail, following train tracks and looking at factories and cranes. Signs of development and signs of stagnation. It's all the same. And the bloody snow. By the time we hit Oshawa, it was blowing snow in all directions. We were delayed at the Ont-Que border because we had to wait for a CN train to clear for us to cross. We arrived an hour late at Le Gare Central. A taxi took us from the station to our hostel, L'Alexandrie. The French hostel was a bit more ... rustic? than the Toronto one. But the people were far more open. Our host pointed us to the best shopping in Montreal. Rues St. Catherine, St. Denis, and St. Laurent. We were armed with maps and a key, so we headed out for Old Montreal.

The Metro took us from Berri-Uqam, just around the corner from our hostel, to Place Des Armes, where we walked our first icy, windy hill to Basilica Notre-Dame. What a sight. $5 to get in. So ... what a sight from the outside. There were plenty of postcards to see the inside anyway. Who wants to pay to go to church? We walked the cobblestone streets to find most of the interesting stores closed. The perfumerie. The Marguerite de Bourgeoys Museum. There was a man carving an ice slide that ran down Rue Jacques Cartier down into Place Jacque Cartier, down a sloping hill that levelled out by the St. Lawrence. (Montreal is an island, you know. I didn't.) We watched until we were cold, which wasn't long, then continued to look for interesting places. As scenic as Vieux Montreal was, none of the interesting shops were open. Nobody was on the icy, blustery streets. The city throws gravel over the new ice in hopes of providing its unsuspecting citizens with more traction, but the gravel just sinks into the water and becomes immortalized in ice. Ca c'est Montreal.

We stopped at a small cafe, Cafe Presse, for chai lattes and a snack. The lattes had two teabags in them! Then, we tried shopping on the streets that everybody had suggested. Always go south for the ritzy areas, right? We found sex shops, strip clubs, pawn shops, and other seedy things on all the streets that we saw. The coolest find was a small, cramped shop on St. Denis where we bought mittens, hats, and scarves. The saleswoman was a petite blond woman who spoke English super well and told us to try St. Laurent. No such luck. What were people always raving about? The shopping was thoroughly disappointing.

We proceeded to map out a route to get to the University of Montreal. Sable had a friend, Erica, that was performing in an open rehearsal for Die Fledermaus, an opera. This meant returning to Berri Uquam, transferring to a line that would take us to Jean-Talon, then transferring again and getting off at Edouard Montpetit. We figured that the University of Montreal would surely have some swanky cafes or places for students to eat.

THERE IS NO FOOD ON THE UNIVERSITE DE MONREAL CAMPUS. NONE. Nada. Nil. Nunca. Like, we walked for ten blocks up Edouard Montpetit and found nothing. We asked locals, and they said at the very end of Edouard Montpetit, there were a few not-so-nice cafes. We searched their buildings. We found that EVERYTHING in Montreal is on a steep incline and requires more than normal effort to get to regular, uninteresting places. There is a stairway to heaven with no stairs in the building adjacent to the Metro station. It's like the longest treadmill in the world. Even just standing on it requires the use of your obliques. It's ridiculous. It took us up to nowhere. We walked around, hungry, until we found their phys ed. and rec building, where we bought a chocolate milk and waited for the opera to begin.

The hill up to the Claire-Champlain Room where the opera was taking place was one of the hardest hills I have ever climbed. We scaled that hill, then realized that the building was on a hill atop the hill we just climbed. My quads and lungs were burning as we reached the entrance. My face had lost sensation. It was horrible.

But the opera was lovely! Sable's friends are so talented!! I wish that I could sing so lovely and so on key. The constumes were fabulous, the set was well-designed. The only thing that would have been nice is if the actual acting part was translated to English in subtitles. I don't get every french joke. But, I understood the majority, so it was okay. We met Erica after the show, took pictures, then headed home.

I was hungry. Starving. Ravenous. We contemplated ordering-in. Just as I had picked up the phone, Jack Black asked me why I hadn't gone for poutine. Well, not literally. But he looked like Jack Black and he was just as cool, if not cooler. He showed me a map to La Banquise, a 24h poutine place that served 22 varieties of poutine. His only advice was,"Get the small if you are not to be hungry so much." Will do. Sable and I did the 15 minute trek UP THE HILL. How is it that this city has so many hills? Are they just a continuous series of hills that build on each other? The cold was nearly unbearable. But the poutine was well worth it. I bought Poutine Matty, which consisted of bacon, green peppers, onions, and mushrooms on poutine. Sable had pizza poutine, with pepperoni, green peppers, and mushrooms. We were sated and we headed back.

Downhill, by the way, is almost worse than uphill. You feel as though you might slip on their useless gravel-ice walkways and die, sliding forever down this hill-city. But we made it back in one piece, to find the showers are never free, and we went to bed at about 2am. Sweet, sweet bed.

Sunday-Monday Hybrid

Sunday = lab work, last-minute packing, and off to Sable's.

We had a dinner of leftovers, including a delicious salad, chicken and potatoes on rice in a creamy gingery sauce, and Limonata. We sat around, watched the end of Love Actually and Project Runway Canada. We headed to the airport at around 11:15pm.

I forgot to package my under 100ml liquids in a clear, resealable bag. Have no fear, however, because security is well-prepared. The Edmonton International Airport at night is very empty. People are sitting around at the gates, in flip-flops and capris, and falling asleep. Sable and I sat around and laughed loudly, waiting to board. Finally, at 12:46am, we boarded.

The flight was fine. The take-off was really smooth. I was a bit apprehensive before taking off because there was a loud, blond girl who was laughing in a SUPER annoying way and swinging her gold-foil tna bag. Gross. Her boyfriend was looking around, possibly for escape, and catching the important documents falling out of her disgusting bag. But she fell asleep right away on the plane. I watched the live map until we were 37 000 feet above ground then fell asleep. When I awoke, we were descending, but not as smoothly. Up, sharply down. Straight. Roll to the right. Uh-oh. Julia is motion sick.

There was two boys to my left who were talking across the aisle, making fun of the people who were surprised by the movements of the plane. I grabbed for the barf bag, leaned over the guy and wretched. I wasn't sick, but it was satisfying to see the boys horrified. Sable slept soundly until we landed.

We had booked a shuttle from the Airport to the Holiday Inn closest to our hostel for 6:55am EST. The shuttle showed up and the driver took our confirmations to give us a ticket but he refused to let us board. In the next half an hour, we experienced the humid cold that everybody from the east warns you about. The creeping, ugly cold that seeps into your marrow and circulates throughout your body to leave you slightly breathless all the time. We boarded the next shuttle at 7:25am and rode into the heart of Toronto.

Guys - there is nothing sweeter than the skyline of the city you have been waiting for. Toronto's skyline was so distinct, even in the sleety grey background of snow and rain. The city is tall and the infrastructure is a winding series of concrete overpasses. Everything about the city is sleek and modern. The black glass windows of office buildings, the digital readouts of minute-by-minute stock exchanges in the Trade Centre, and even the MacDonald's looked swanky and new. We were in Toronto!

Check-in wasn't until 1pm at Clarence Castle, so we dropped off our backpacks and headed to Bloor Street for brunch after a breakfast. Actually, one of the owners, Danny, met us on the road up to Clarence Castle. He asked, "Are you two headed to Clarence Castle?" We nodded. He smiled. He asked if we knew how he knew we were staying there. I suggested that our backpacks were a dead giveaway. "But we're surrounded by hostels! Who's to say you weren't going to the Backpacker's Hostel just across the street?" We shrugged. He smiled again. "Only the classiest guests stay at the Clarence Castle." Touche. He left us to eat breakfast.

To kill time before meeting Sable's friend Dawn at Fresh on Spadina and Bloor, we explored BMV books, which sells used books, CDs, LPs, comic books, text books, VHS cassettes, etc. etc. Three floors of literature in a white store with a floor-to-ceiling window front. I picked up a few gifts then we headed out to Fresh.

Fresh is a vegan restaurant that is famous for its fresh fruit smoothies and juices. I had a Ladybug, which is a smoothie of strawberries, blueberries, and apple. I also ordered a roasted vegetable and pesto burrito with a side of sweet potato fries. Oh man. Grilled eggplant, roasted zucchini, alfalfa sprouts, cucumber, sundried tomato, radicchio, and romaine lettuce topped with fresh basil pesto and soy ranch dressing. So. Good.

We then walked the entire downtown area of Toronto. Bloor to Yonge, Yonge to Queen, Queen to Spadina, Spadina to Kensington Market. Much to see, including numerous shops, Chinatown, MuchMusic, numerous restaurants, University buildings, City Hall, the Bata Shoe Museum. the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM), and the Biggest Bookstore In the World. Kensington Market is a flea market that Sable and I imagined would be a bit like the open air markets in Europe. Instead, the shops are in small townhouses and sell vintage wear, odd accessories, and other novelty items. It was a bit disappointing, but I got a cool leather cuff out of it.

We bought pastries in Chinatown for breakfast the next morning. 5am train to Montreal. Sweet. We walked back to our hostel, showered, re-dressed, and headed out again. Dinner at a nice Indian restaurant topped off my day of eating good things. Butter chicken and some kind of kopta. The kopta was a creamy vegetable sauce with cottage cheese balls baked into it. We ate it with basmati rice with carrots and peas and garlic naan bread. Mmmmm ... spicy. Then we walked one block to the Second City Comedy Club for a night of jokes, including jokes about Dalton McGuinty, MacDonald's, children's puppets, having sex in the water, lesbian sex, friends playing pool, and, of course, good old improv. I enjoyed it. The toffee coffee helped. Bailey's, white chocolate liqueur and coffee. So warm and so good.

We headed home for an early night. Toronto thoroughly enjoyed in one full day.