Reminiscing of snow

Too much writing, not enough pictures! I hear your silent cries and I'm here to sort it out. Also, because after three days of up to 20ºC pretty much all the snow is gone and we're left with the various browns of mud and grass that hasn't seen sunlight in four months. I miss the snow, let's reminisce...

Pointe-au-Père, January

  

Lucky the dog, in snow and looking bashful (for good reason) in front of the snowy balcony window

Walking on the frozen St-Lawrence river, checking out the ice fishing and admiring the town from a perspective I never expected.

And finally, my favourite thing to do on sunny days when I was fed up with unemployment: walking along the riverside and taking photos of the frozen waters.

The cunning use of video games

My housemate has stolen my boyfriend. With the cunning use of retro video games. It might look like a playstation remote plugged into a Wii-mote but really it is the highly pixelated Punch-Out! 

I'm leaving them to it for several reasons: 

1) Housemate only has two remotes

2) I'm rubbish at video games (except dancing ones, Plants v Zombies and Peggle)

3) I think they need a little bonding time. I don't know if it was since I arrived but I have rarely seen them behave like friends (which I'm led to believe they were before they moved in together)

Also, since I got a job, I've fallen behind on my fashion blog reading - shameful, I know. Although, given the choice (which I essentially do have) I would choose my new job over fashion blogs. It makes the waiting for the next post go so much quicker!

Things I need to do: find a flat (with Denis, don't worry, things are still good), buy a car (I'm hoping they'll accept cake in payment) and sort out the legality of me staying here past October. Otherwise, I'm sticking Denis with a seven-month contract on a flat, and that would be unfair. Also, if my new job continues as I hope, and believe, it will, I won't want to be going anywhere.

In other news, I went to dinner with my new boss last night. We had sushi and wine and talked about swing dancing and looked at pretty dresses. Could I ask for more? While it is friendly at work, there was definitely a different feeling - a feeling of two anglophones, who have both been through the British school system and who wound up in some dark corner of a desolate land. I joke because I love - I walked 30 minutes to work today in temperatures that with windchill were getting on for -20 and involved large amounts of snow blowing in my face. I didn't mind but I could really do with a car... if only to be able to get where I need to be going for job-stuff.

I'm looking forward to this weekend (my first event with the new company) - a Winter Wonderland with face-painting, ice sculptures, free hot chocolate, a live band and dancefloor. Will let you know how it goes.

I'll stop now. The elaborate québécois swearing directed at Super Mario is far too distracting.

Surprise!

I'm back! (Not sure for how long, probably only very sporadically) 

So I got that job I posted about all those months ago. And it was really not for me and I spent my evenings and weekends tired and in a bad mood and definitely did not fancy writing about it. I didn't move thousands of kilometres away from my family and friends to be miserable. So I quit.

That was scary. After five years of being officially a student I couldn't cope with being a call-centre robot for a billion dollar company that considered 7 minutes per day adequate for "personal" time (but would then pull you up if you used all of this allocated time).  We were given "positioning statements" for almost any situation so that we could promote the company's position. I didn't necessarily feel that this was in the customers' best interests but the company assured us it was. I think the moment that really did it for me was the lecture on tones of voice and how to use different tones for different call types to make the customers trust us. 

I quit because I wasn't happy and the search for a job more suited to me had ground to a halt since money started being deposited in my bank account. Now, after several weeks of writing letters to companies that interested me (whether or not they were advertising a position), meeting people, demonstrating enthusiasm and independent thinking and as many skills as I could come up with, I may just have found something very interesting and well suited to me.

I'm supposed to start tomorrow and I don't want to jinx it. I'm being a bit cautious because during these weeks of unemployment this is the third job I thought I was getting and the other two haven't come up with any work yet. I'm also feeling uncharacteristically superstitious as the way this job came about seems very much to have been some sort of fate. Just as I was starting to think I might have to give up on trying to start a career and seriously look for another just-a-job (funds running low) I got a call, for a job I applied to in November. I met with the executive director (ED) yesterday. This morning I bumped into an employee who said she was looking forward to working with me (my mind is going "I don't remember being offered or officially accepting a job offer"), I met the ED again today and she bought cake to celebrate my joining the team.  She also felt like it was fate (her words) as she very suddenly needed someone just about exactly like me and I just happened to be available. From the news I'd had leading up to this week, I had been expecting to have other work at this point but the people promising the mythical work didn't come through. 

The job is all sorts of things that interest me and is for a non-profit organisation (unlike the billion dollar telecoms company of before). This means the pay is less but the guilt is non-existent. The ED is also a Lindy Hopper. This makes everything more awesome.

Looking for pretty things and a good cup of tea

Ooops, it has been too long, sorry about that.

Turns out I've been living life rather than writing about it ...which has to be a good thing right?

Last time I was massively looking forward to a swing social dance. Unfortunately seven people turned up. Three of the seven were 1. Myself 2. Denis and 3. Denis' dance and teaching partner, Caro. Also I've pretty much decided that I don't like East Coast Swing. It doesn't look nice and isn't that fun to dance. Lindy for life!

So, last Sunday Denis and I drove down to Montreal. He had to go for work and as I had no job at the time nor any interviews scheduled I got to go to. I thought it was going to be like a free mini holiday, turned out a bit more expensive than I'd assumed. I bought a dining table and four chairs from IKEA. Denis is in the process of paying me back, seeing as I'm not likely to be paid for a good four weeks, I'm not really in a position to buy furniture.

I'm somewhat more certain about pay day seeing as while I was in Montreal I was FINALLY* offered a job. It is with a huge national telecommunications company, in their Rimouski call centre as a customer service represent-ant (the French is "Représentant(e), service à la clientèle" and, although I shall not be carrying bits of leaf on my back, I'm pretty sure I will be the human equivalent of a worker ant).

* Five weeks after I arrived, four weeks after I started looking. Not so bad but due to the end of uni and the proximity of school starting to my leaving date I feel like I haven't actually done anything since mid-June.

Montreal was fun. It was good to get out of Rimouski and meet other people. Not that I'm short of people to meet here. I mostly pounded the streets, looking for pretty things and a good cup of tea.

I also got a catch up chat with Jamie, who assistanted in Joliette when I was in RDL. It was fun to talk English with someone who a) speaks exceedingly good English and b) has a very British sense of humour ...In real life. Skype is a great way to keep in touch but it isn't a patch on actually sitting a matter of centimetres from someone. Although, throwing playing cards at someone in real life is slightly less entertaining than it is via Skype.

I found a cafe in which I'm pretty sure the guy in charge is the brother of C.R. Avery and where soup is served in wooden bowls and the large chai latte is only $4 but comes with a cinnamon stick in it. Also, when I bought my lunch the till didn't have change for a twenty so, in a totally laid back way, C.R.'s brother said he'd bring my latte and change over when they were ready. And he did. I was really thinking that I'd just donated a rather large tip (as in more than 100% of the price of the meal) but nope, C.R. clearly has an honest and reliable brother. I shouldn't be surprised, he is Canadian.

Right, first day of work/work training tomorrow. Time to get myself ready. Wish me luck.

Culture Shock

So we're on weekly updates at the moment. Little and often may be more motivating, I'll try to keep that in mind.

Denis is on his way to Montreal to fetch the pimp car. We've been tooling about in a pickup for the past couple of weeks - made me feel like a local.

Writing is a bit slow tonight as I'm watching the Hunter S. Thompson documentary and typing during the commercial breaks. However, the Baby Bullet advert, which features in every break, is very distracting, not only due to the name but for some reason it seems to be twice the volume of the other adverts and three times the volume of the programme I actually want to watch.

Finally the chest of drawers has been repaired and this afternoon, after living out of suitcases for almost two weeks, I finished unpacking and maybe now I'll feel like I'm not just visiting. Step 2 in feeling like I belong: find a job.

I've been working on my CV and have a couple of leads but have also had a couple of set backs. More news when there is some.

Last Saturday night we were invited to Marc-Andre and Steph's for an exceedingly enjoyable evening of fabulous food and fine wines, finished off with a lesson in poker. Clearly I had good teachers as I won my first game but you know what they say: quit while you're ahead.

Earlier that day I'd got my lumberjack (jane?) on and helped stack a whole lotta wood. We ended up with three stacks, ten foot high, six foot wide and as deep as the logs were long. All I was missing was the checked shirt.

Then on Sunday, continuing with the body building theme, we helped a friend of Denis' move into her first solo apartment. If ice hockey is the religion of the locals, helping people move house is their hobby.

Wednesday was the next eventful day in that we went to see Alexandre Desilets. I'd not heard of him and, due to a problem with the internet, I'd not been able to check him out beforehand. The worry set in when one of our group described the music as being like Coldplay. The worry turned to horror when the support act appeared and proceeded to present forty-five minutes of keyboard noises; think Ross' sound but not a joke. At least, I assume it wasn't some sort of performance art testing the audience's feelings of obligation to applaud any sort of performance.  Those boys need to go back to their parents' basement and, preferably, not leave. Ever. Or possibly they were there to lower our musical standards. 

The main act were fine. The musicians were tight but I wasn't fond of the vocals and it wasn't particularly to my taste. My main barrier to enjoying the show was the set up - an audience of under 100 people sat at small tables when we should have been standing up and jumping about.

I guess having lived here before I thought I knew how it would be this time but I'm definitely feeling the culture shock. What place has hard floors in every room of the house and then carpet on the open porch?


These days I'm mostly taking walks and doodling. Five minute's walk from the flat I get to hang out and check out these views:

Hey stranger

Eleven days until I depart for Quebec. This time I don't know when I'll be coming back.

I previously attempted to keep some record of what I was up to during my first Canadian adventure and after a year of manic stress (the official term for a PGCE) with absolutely no time/inclination for blogging... I'm back!

You may recall I headed off to Quebec just over two years ago, to a town named Rivière-du-Loup and had a fabulous time teaching high school kids English. I worked about 18 hours a week and had various adventures with the other teaching assistants (Thanksgiving, Halloween and chalet adventures in Quebec, Chicago for Christmas, New York for Spring Break, the breadth of Canada over the summer ...not that the latter adventures made it on to here.)

Well, things have generally got a whole lot more serious. I tried applying for teaching jobs but didn't really want to get any offers as that would mean I had no excuse to run away. I took this to mean that if somehow I did find a job in these difficult times I would still want to run away and so the best course of action would be to head off to foreign lands for a third time (first being France in 2007).

I've got myself onto the Working Holiday Program, which is now called "International Experience Canada" (IEC) and no longer explains what it is about in the name so you'll just have to go read this if you're interested. I get to live and work in Canada for a whole year and if all goes well I shall be looking to apply for residency.

When I get there I will be doing something (role still to be determined) for AMH Canada, and before you get too excited I probably won't be allowed to play with the welders and the fire and the sharp bits of metal.

If I am going to become a real teacher at some point in the future I feel like a bit more life experience would be a good idea. Yes I've already lived in two foreign countries but I've always had the warm cocoon of education to protect me. From the age of four my life has gone: primary school, high school, two years of university in Sheffield, year abroad (France) teaching English in high schools, back to university, belated "gap-year" teaching English in a high school in Quebec, back to university to train to become a high school French teacher. Now I like education very much but I need to see if I like other things too. So. Welders it is then.

Like I said, things are a lot more serious. Not only am I hoping this year will lead to a) knowing what I want to do with my life and b) a permanent move to Quebec, but it is also getting pretty serious in the relationship area. I'm moving to a town I barely know in a foreign country, that speaks a foreign language and I'm moving in with my boyfriend, whose father I shall be working for (for three months to give me time to find my own job). The last two parts are, in theory, to help my move go more smoothly but sometimes I wonder if I might be taking on rather a lot all in one go. Most of the time I'm too excited to wonder about such things.

Also, I'll get to live with a dog. I spent years campaigning for my parents to buy my one and now I get a trial run before I am a real grown up and have to do things for myself for realz.

Final few weeks of England are passing quickly. Had a visit to Sheffield, shall be heading to London, been to the dentist and opticians, going to the hairdresser tomorrow, seeing my uncle and aunt on Friday, fitting in as much dancing as I can, making the most of my wonderful friend Sam being not so far away, seeing family friends. Oh yeah, and culling about half of my worldly belongings so as not to leave my parents with too much of my rubbish as I'm only taking two suitcases this time.

That reminds me: must check hand baggage allowance and check-in time. And go to sleep.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?

Three days of outdoor summer swing dancing in Montreal which I would so love to go to:
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010

For the first I'll be at the qualifying of the Montreal Formula 1 Grand Prix YAAAAAYYY!!!! Which is a good enough reason to miss the dancing, except the racing doesn't go on that late. But the dancing is not so much a "day" as an "afternoon" so that is NO help.

The second I plan to be at the VANCOUVER FOLK FESTIVAL. Oh. Yes. Hopefully. Tickets not a problem but there is a distinct lack of accommodation and as I'll have all my stuff with me camping is not an option. 

The third I plan to be in England for. So I think you'd better start planning me an awesome Welcome Back party, hadn't you?

On a completely unrelated note, I bought some cherry sweets which loudly proclaimed that they contained "real fruit juice". Only when I read the ingredients did I find this to be pear juice. Um, okay.

The toe bone's connected to the heel bone (what?)*

I was stopped on the way to school today. It was by an elderly but well dressed couple who wished to compliment me on my sartorial choices saying that it was nice to see a vraie femme.

Tomorrow night I plan to go to a gig for the first time in weeks. I've really not been to enough gigs this year, it is a bit pathetic. Now, had I been in Montreal....

*Doing The Body with Sec 1s and using Fats Waller's version of Dem Dry Bones. Does include some questionable science (the chin bone's connected to the nose bone?) but has almost all the essential body vocabulary.

Pancake Day FAIL.

These crazy people don't know what pancake day is. Only my second favourite holiday-that-you-don't-get-time-off-for after the one where we burn a pretend guy...

It was also my day off and I went SKIING. With MUCH greater success than last time. Much. However, this means the next time I will get to sleep in past 7 am is likely to be 26th February. Ten days! Aaaaarrrrghhhh!

On the plus side this is because of SKIIIIIIING and SWIIIIIIIING. Two things that look very similar when written like that. I will sleep when... ummm... I don't have skiing or swinging to do?

Due to both of these I did not get pancakes today. Booooooo. After skiing I didn't have much time before swing to make myself half respectable. 

On the plus side, I got a ROSE! From a male person! First time EVER. 

Let me give you a brief history of the flowers I've been given:

I've had a single stem pink thing (dunno what it was) from the (retired) female owner of the shop I used to work in. The (now retired) manageress of said shop gave me a huuuuge bunch to say good luck at uni and well done in your A-levels. A colleague, also of the same shop, gave me flowers for my 18th (I will be 23 in May) and for my last birthday Abbs gave me some lilies that she'd been given but found the pollen too much for her nose. Second hand flowers. Not that I was in a position to complain. I was also given a small flowering plant by my responsable in France. Which I managed to not kill (result). My responsable was a sweet French lady a couple of years off retirement. 

Back to the rose. It was for my helping with the swing classes. Which is kinda ridiculous because if I didn't then I wouldn't get to dance. But also pretty awesome. P.S. It's yellow and goes really well with my room.

And the young man watched the snow through the window.

Lison took Eibhlin and I cross country skiing today. We managed six kilometres in the time it took her to do 14... This was mostly because of all the time I spent sitting/lying in the snow and not actually skiing. Eibhlin probably could've managed ten in that time but thankfully she stopped periodically and waited for me to catch up.

Going very slowly or "shuffling" isn't too hard until you get to a downhill but every time I got up a bit of speed - even on flat bits - I lost my balance. Although from the start where I had fear and dreaded the downhills by the end I loved them even if I knew I was more likely to end up on my bum than my feet.  Oddly, I fell quite a bit at the start then got into it a bit, then got more into it and fell over even more.

This winter I have learnt that I don't need to be good at something to enjoy it.

My knees are still bruised from my ice skating fall (I was trying to go backwards and I can only just about go forwards) last Sunday and they ache after exertion however, despite ski du fond this morning and skating this afternoon it is infinitely more comfortable to stand than sit on my poor bruised behind. I really enjoy skating and I very much want to do ski du fond again - it was so beautiful, moving amongst snow dusted fir trees with flakes falling gently from the sky. At least I was good at skidooing, small mercies. 

Hopefully I will remain upright somewhat better when I try snow-shoeing tomorrow. I'm also trying ski alpin for the FIRST TIME on THURSDAY. (Get me and my getting out there). I'm supposed to go to Quebec City on Friday. I might be dead. And then I won't get to go skidooing again. Better not die. 

Also. ALSO! Swing is back on Tuesday. Hurrah! And in two weeks I will be at a Swing weekender in the big QC. Awe. Som. U. Lar. Marie-Josée came skating today and we were talking and I'm really hoping she's gonna come to the swing thing. It would be so much more awesome if she did. And Marco. People! I know people!

15 minutes till 24

Canada is great. Having cable in Canada is better. Getting to watch 24 before the peeps at home makes me feel special and privileged, as well I should for braving temperatures below -20 Celsius just to teach some Quebeckers how to speak properly...

Passing my time in one of my most favourite ways - no, not dying my hair - reading style blogs, I come across many many people bemoaning the prevalence of Uggs. My favourite part about the one linked to there is that it points out the shuffly nature of Ugg-wearers. If I was to do a Monday Rage List (Artur Boruc stylee @Miss Duck (oh the internets)) it would go something like this...

I REALLY HATE PEOPLE WHO DON'T PICK THEIR FEET UP!!!!!!!!!! YOU LOOK STUPID AND YOU DESERVE TO FALL OVER ON ICE!!!!!!!! AND BE IN PAAAAAIN!!!!! YOU LOOK ESPECIALLY STUPID BECAUSE YOU'RE WEARING YOUR MORONIC UGG BOOTS!!!!!!!! YOU NEED TO BE DROP KICKED INTO ALDO/OFFICE/RUSSELL&BROMLEY!!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!! PEOPLE AREN'T TRYING TO BE WITTY WHEN THEY SAY YOUR BOOTS ARE UGGLY!!!!!!!!! THEY'RE TRYING TO HELP BUT YOU'RE SO BLINDED BY SHEEPSKIN YOU WOULDN'T KNOW!!!!!!!! SHEEP SHOULD EAT YOUR FACE!!!!!!

Also I forgot to say: I'm going to the 2010 Montreal GP. But Kimi won't be there. MS will. I'm still not over Kimi not getting a championship when he was at McLaren (I WILL CRUSH RON'S FACE WITH STOMPY STOMPY BOOTS!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!)

That was far too geeky. 24!

Best laid plans etc

Yes yes yes. I did mean to keep a nice blog here of all my adventures on the North American continent. Unfortunately as soon as something becomes an obligation it loses its fun, hence the dearth of entries.

On the plus side (for me) I have kept something of a record of my doings in a notebook.

Since Christmas (in Chicago with Added Abby And Eric Awesomeness) and 2010-welcoming at Stoneham (the ski resort near Quebec City not the small village in East Sussex) followed by the incredible Cirque du Soleil and particularly fabulous outfit on my part, even if I do say so myself, I've not really done a whole lot.

I bought ice skates! Hockey ones. And I'm getting there, slowly. I've been skating six times since I bought them just over two weeks ago - only need to go three more times until the cost-per-wear is less than skate hire. Hurrah! Maybe by April I will have a new skill. Or maybe I will have so thoroughly destroyed my knees that I will never dance again. Who knows?

Today one of the teachers who works with Eibhlin took us skidooing with another teacher and a head teacher. They really are too generous round here. It was AH-MAY-ZING. They found my need for speed amusing. But I kept it upright and got some good speed up, also got a bit of air at one point... I love the snow.

Talking of snow, we have really great snow right now. On Friday it was a snow day so Eibhlin and I celebrated by playing in the back garden like children.

Rather unfortunately this is not snowman building snow. We attempted snowballs but they didn't work either. However, I believe there is some sort of ice-sculpture competition in town tomorrow. Eibhlin and I spotted some industrious types hard at work on Friday.

A frustrating aspect of Canadian (or is it just Quebec?) life is that they're really behind with the whole mobile/internet thing. Basically phones and internets are on complicated and expensive plans that wring all the money they can out of you then change the rules and bully you for more. Bastards. This means I must spend less time on YouTube watching swing videos and more time reading/knitting/drawing/skating/learning German but no. In reality I have replaced video footage with fashion blogs. And shopping websites. I'm planning my amazing teachering outfits so that I will become my students' favourite. Well, I realise some sort of teaching ability will probably be the main thing here but stunning dresses and fabulous shoes can't hurt...? I feel this dress would go down well - good job it isn't on sale just yet.

Can I come back to England for the shopping please? I know where I can get the stuff I like and I don't have to worry about how much it'll cost to ship across the Atlantic. Don't get me wrong, I'm having a great time and totally not ready to leave but my superficial streak is clawing at me. Probably because the more I buy here the more it'll cost to post home and I'm yet to discover a shop I love here. This has inspired a lot of "if..." shopping - I decided on a look I want, I find the components for it on the internet, I do not buy it. But I would. If I was in England, employed, with cash and a fabulous little Karmann Ghia to set it all off with. This article didn't help although I do wish I could be even bolder with my outfits. Like Katie.

More reading French, less reading fashion blogs/style sections.

Unless they're in French.

It may have been a Tad cold but we had a whale of a time

We (Eibhlin, Fiona and I) took the ferry from RdL to Saint-Siméon on Friday afternoon. I took the last class off, leaving Sylvie alone with group 22. On the ferry we ran into the Rimouski ladies and met two older women who owned B&Bs on the way to and in Tadoussac and were giving us the hard sell.

Once on the other side of the St Lawrence we went to a café to wait for our lift from Luke and Jessica. I had poutine followed by sugar pie. Can't get more québecois than that.

The journey to Tadoussac was about an hour but it passed quickly. To get to the village in question we had to take another boat but unlike the traversier it was free as without it you cannot go any further. It counts as an extension of the road.

That evening there was a bonfire and live music at the youth hostel just across the road from our motel and where Fiona was staying. Some people didn't even arrive until after midnight but there were still a few more hours of dancing round the bonfire singing camp songs (until someone got a guitar out and started on a few old favourites), and stupid competitions: Laura and I versus CJ and André (not laughing, being cute, wearing scarves). I also was introduced to a Canadian from Halifax whose sister is Buck 65's friend (because everyone knows everyone in Halifax). I have to go to Halifax.

Saturday started with a half-hour walk out to the Maison Alexis before 10am in order to pay Andy and get ourselves on the whale watching Zodiac activity for the afternoon. The rest of the morning was mostly spent in a café called La Boheme that had the best Earl Grey I've ever tasted.

We then got ourselves seriously layered up in preparation for three hours of being out on the water. All week I'd had people saying "Whale watching? Tadoussac? Wrap up warm!" and "Whale watching? Tadoussac? You'll be cold!" and I was determined to not get cold. I don't think I've ever worn so many items of clothing in one go but it did work, thankfully.

We saw seals, balugas, minke whales and a couple of humpbacks. Definitely worth being in the little boat. The picture is of the boat I was in (I have a white hat covering half my face under some hoods) and was (obviously) not taken by me but by someone in the other boat. I was surprised they got all of us into two boats as they looked so small before we got in.

It was brilliant to get so close to the whales - the humpbacks didn't get very close but still were probably only about 100m away and we got to see the proper tail splash. Just like in the movies.

That evening Andy and some roped-in assistants fed us amazingly well for $13 a head. I ended up with two plates of food because both Fiona and Laura fetched me one. It was great! Laura and I also composed The Crumble Song because we knew there was apple crumble for pudding and we were impatient. Morven also contributed to the masterpiece than went a little like so:

Crumblllllle, crumble!

And ice-cream.

Crumblllllle, crumble!

And custard.

Crumblllllle, crumble!

And (insert something else you can eat with apple crumble)

It is gonna make us rich. No stealing. I wasn't even drunk. It was all the sugar and e-numbers in the Sprite that did it.

We headed back to the youth hostel because that was where all the fun was happening but after a five-day week (I know, right) and a very late night followed by no lie-in I could barely speak so went to watch the grand prix. I heart F1.

On Sunday we once again brunched at La Boheme before heading to our respective Canadian homes. I was so tired I failed to be properly excited about the going on the ferries. Totally worth it though.

2 days, 200km, less than $200, 3 hot chocolates.

There are two Allo-Stop stops in RdL. One is at the McDonald's I can see on the other side of the centre commercial on my way to school and is maybe 20 minutes walk from the house, if that. The other is at St Hubert (fast chicken but classier than KFC or Maccy D's. Just about.) which is at least a 50 minute walk away. Unfortunately it was the latter I was headed for on Friday.

It was a chilly walk so I got myself a petrol station hot chocolate to keep warm while I waited for the man. It worked but it wasn't the best way to introduce myself to Canadian hot chocolate. I was to find out they do it pretty well here.

My driver was Jean-Michel. He wore a bandana on his head like a pirate and had small shifty eyes but was neither a pirate or shifty and we had a good chat so I practiced my French. He'd not been to England but knows some of Europe as he has a Swedish girlfriend. We talked about the environment and public transport and travel and drinking cultures. The two hour journey passed quickly enough and it was wonderful to see forests all different autumn colours.

I caught the bus into town from Ste-Foy (a suburb of Quebec City that is about 7 minutes drive from the towncentre in a car, several hours' walk or half an hour by bus. I don't understand it either) picked up a box o'beer and headed to Andy's place. Or should I say André's as Andy was in Germany and my host was André. And a very good host he was too.

We were just discussing what would happen if magicians worked for armies when Stephanie and Salima turned up and we went flyering for an Palestinian hiphop group. I say "flyering" there was a little bit of sticking paper to old posters with sellotape, quite a lot of holding the end of the tape so the roll unwound and rolled off, a bit of making André wear the ruined tape but mostly it was wandering about and looking in shops. We even went to a lovely chocolaterie called Erico for hot chocolate. Much better than the first one I had! Not as thick as the French ones that are pretty much just melted chocolate but not that sweet and so SO good. I was also shown a very sweet épicerie which has all sorts of fancy and expensive and interesting wares dedans.

We then went to get ingredients for dinner, at which point André realised that cuillère à thé de canelle doesn't mean "a spoon of cinnamon tea" (because why would you put cinnamon tea in apple crumble?) but rather "a teaspoon of cinnamon". This story was to be recounted at every possible opportunity.

Dinner was quiche, presided over by Salima and pudding was apple crumble, presided over byAndré for his very first solo baking experience. It was yummy and there was plenty of random yet entertaining conversation with people I'd only met that afternoon.

Saturday I met Laura and Nick in Second Cup for a hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate curls. We spent most of the rest of the day in Simons and a couple of other shops out in Ste-Foy but it was my formal introduction to Simons and couldn't been rushed. I bought furry white earmuffs that I'm certain are not vegetarian and a fluffy white beret.

Laura and Nick also found themselves some chic attire.

Hat and earmuffs from Simons Scarf and cardigan from Simons

After the most enjoyable trip to the pretty clothes and accessories we went back to Nick's for tea (Eary Grey) and biscuits. When I saw André later that evening he couldn't get over how British we were being with our tea and biscuits. Fiona always says there is no one more patriotic than an ex-pat and I know I drink a lot more tea here (as I did in France) than I do in England.

Anyway, that evening I took the bus out quite a long way to find the Port-o Swing studio and my whole reason for the weekend in Quebec. You guessed it: Swing dance. It was weird going on my own but I made good dancers dance with me and then other good dancers asked me to dance including ...the Canadian balboa champion (well, the bloke anyway).

Sadly I only got about three hours of dancing in before I had to catch the last bus back (that or a two hour walk after midnight, no thank you). But then I went to Salima's birthday house party where there were cupcakes and dancing and a very old drunk couple who smoked a lot and petticoats and a Newfie (someone from Newfoundland) and discussions over who of the Canadians was the most English.

On Sunday I met Nick and Laura and we (mostly me) cooked brunch for André to say thank you for letting me stay and then I had to run off and get my Allo-Stop so left my fellow Brits to do the washing up. Fortunately I had fed them well and we're all still friends.

The kindness of Canadians part II

On our first Sunday in RdL Lucie drove the four of us assistants out to Kamouraska to visit a brilliant German bakery and have lunch in the cafe next to it. Yum yum yum. She bought us bread and lunch (she said it was on the school board but I'm not convinced that wasn't a ploy to make us stop trying to pay our own ways). We had a somewhat confusing bilingual conversation with our waiter because no one was sure whether it was more polite to speak English or French.

Having studied a novel called Kamouraska, which was set, unsurprisingly, in Kamouraska, I was pretty excited. Unfortunately we didn't see to much of the place but it doesn't take long by car so we'll have to get Vicky to drive us back out there (friends with cars = win).

There was a secondary motive to our trip - to find the true identity of "Pearl". One of the assistants in RdL last year, Colin, had also been taken to the bakery and had rather fallen for one of the girls that works there. On my first evening in the town the story was recounted to me and it was the stuff that soppy films are made of. Or would be if he'd actually managed to contact the girl. After several failed trips to Kamouraska (the bakery was closed) he was told the girl he liked was called Pearl and that she had a boyfriend. So he stopped trying. Then it turned out Pearl is the other one! Lucie recounted the saga to the poor girl while she was getting our order. She took it well but possibly because her (highly unsuccessful) "stalker" is now several hundred kilometres away (near Quebec City).

We were then taken to Lucie's parents' place which is on the outskirts of RdL to meet them and the cat/kittens (so cute!). Because Lucie is so ridiculously active she doesn't have time to keep pets but she rescued a cat and then it had kittens so they're being distributed amongst members of her family.

As well as getting to play with small cats, Lucie's parents have an impressive kitchen garden so we were sent home with bags of gooseberries as well.

The kindness of strangers part I

While officially I believe the first few days in Montreal were intended to give us administrative and teaching advice there was a very important secondary function: networking. By putting all the British, Irish, German, French and Mexican assistants into one hotel we got to know one another pretty quick and gained instant friends. Just exactly what you want when you've arrived in a new continent/country for an extended time.

Before the "workshops" began (and thoughtlessly interrupted our eating of free food - no please not another coffee break, I can't see free food and not eat it but I swear I'll explode) we had a chance to see a bit of Montreal (and we saw quite a lot of it from Mont Royal, above).

The socialising was confirmed by an evening bowling. It started pathetically enough but I did learn and did not completely embarrass myself. Plus another evening of pubbing at Hurley's Irish Bar in downtown Montreal. I'm still a little excited that I'm in a land where "downtown" exists. It isn't just in the movies.

Friday afternoon we were cruelly severed from our new friends and shipped off to our various destinations. Some had days of travelling ahead of them but I arrived in RdL at 8pm that evening. Only one hour after the scheduled time. Eibhlin and I were met by Lucie (who I'm sure will feature prominently) and taken to Lison's place where we now live. So I'd met Eibhlin on the Wednesday, Lucie Friday evening and only about an hour before Lison but everyone is ridiculously lovely and friendly and generous. Lucky really.

On the Saturday Lucie took us to hers for dinner and to meet Vicky and Fiona - the Canadian monitors working in local primary schools. We sampled her famous penne which was, as expected, very nice indeed and were treated to stories of mountain expeditions and personal philosophies (everything is perfect).

So far Canadians seem to be awesomely positive people which, I must admit, I find a little bit scary. We have been welcomed by so many people, quite a few of whom have shared their life-affirming beliefs with us.

Hugs and kisses and treats in a bag

Tuesday evening, Barfly, downtown Montreal.

Having arrived Monday afternoon and done my best to stay up until 10pm local time (23 hours since I got up) to try and fool my body clock into not being jet lagged, Tuesday was my opportunity to see some of Montreal before the training started. And what an introduction to Canada it was.

Two other monitors had arrived Monday evening and a few more turned up Tuesday day time, four of whom I cajoled into heading downtown for a gig I’d been told about.

After a slice of pizza and a can of fizz for almost no money we turned up at the bar – black and scruffy on the outside, dark and dingy on the inside, “Montreal’s favourite dive bar” according to one of the band. The drinks were cheap, $4.75 a pint while light outside, $5.45 when it got dark.

The band was L’embouscade – three key members plus a few friends, including Mark Berube, one of my all time favourite musicians. He was sitting at the bar by the stage when I went over to say hey, not really expecting him to recognise me after more than two years. I should’ve had more faith in the friendliness of Canadians.

“Hey, Jen! You made it. How’s it going?” accompanied by a hug and kiss on the cheek. So we had a chat, later on he came over to where I was sitting with my friends to meet them too before disappearing. He came back just before the band were due on stage, sidled up and said “a present, don’t tell anyone” as he passed me his new album under the table. The joy of this was magnified by the fact that to save weight I'd left all my CDs at home and was stuck with just mp3s. I was already missing my music collection so a CD with a jewel case and insert was just what I needed.

The band was amazing. I’d read a review that said “as precise as a terrorist strike and as tight as the finest knit sweater” and I’d have to agree. It was just a shame that it was the drummer’s last gig with the band before he goes to study in Vancouver and that the band seemed to be built around the drummer who also did lead vocals and played melodica.

It was the perfect start to my time in Canada. Perfect.