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.

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.

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.

The bright lights (shows) of the big city

First time to Quebec City and how do we get there? Lison just happens to be driving and and gives us a lift. I swear we get more than our money's worth for our rent. Brilliant, non-exploitative brilliance.

Just before leaving Dad said "hope you find a good Winter coat" I said, "I'm not going 200km to go shopping. I'm going for a party!" (the response was "Even better!"). So yes, we headed South to celebrate Nick's birthday. Eibhlin and I arrived at the hostel and immediately bumped into two other assistants, then on our quest to find the Allo-Stop office walked past Andy's housemate and his brother. First time to a strange city and three familiar faces in less than 40 minutes. Madness.

It was beautiful sunshine so

we spent most of Saturday-day wandering about looking at buildings and water which suited me very well. Saw a one-man-band playing old favourites such as California Dreamin'. Stopped off for an expensive beer, tried to nick some crisps (nearly said "chips" - stupid Americanisms) from the people next to us, succeeded and were very disappointed. Ick.

Aaaanyhoo, after a rather nice dinner of fish and chips with an over-attentive waiter, at least until we wanted the bill, we headed back to the hostel to get ready to meet the others and bumped into the St-Georges Crew. We weren't allowed to drink in the rooms but we befriended a French girl in our dorm and started the party.

She came with us to see the Moulin d'images which was an amazing light show out by the port. When I say "light show" it was more like a huge cinema experience on the side of several industrial buildings with pyrotechnics and booming sound effects. I was massively impressed and didn't even mind that it turned cold about 9:30.

On the way back to Andy's (to get the party started) we invaded his l

ocal depanneur. The girl on the till looked very surprised about how many people were shuffling in, picking up copious quantities of booze and blocking the doorway. Mind you, with sales like that she looked pretty happy.

Andy's place is pretty impressive. There's three of them in a pretty central house that's spacious and fairly minimalist - perfect for house parties. Space and not much to break. We were only going there for one drink and impressively Andy managed to mobilise the troops and get us on to a bar before heading for Bistro to get our groove on, throw some shapes etc.

We invaded the place and made the dancefloor our own. A few locals tried to join the group just to have a dance but they couldn't keep up with our awesome moves. I use "awesome" in the loosest possible sense. We were definitely going for maximum flailing, minimum cool.

At one point Emma coerced a breakdancer into throwing down, mostly by going into the middle and doing some sort of chicken-esque move and daring him to do better. He didn't seem very keen to show off but we made him anyway!

2:40am and time to head to Chez Ashton for a poutine fix. My first time in Quebec and it was everything I'd heard it to be. Yum.

I got up early the next morning to watch the Grand Prix. Totally worth it. Lewis crashed on the final lap and gifted Kimi third place. I was grinning all day.

I and a couple of the St-Georges lot met Laura M in Second Cup to sample their indulgent hot chocolate before meeting everyone else and heading to Cosmos for brunch. And my, what a brunch it was. Yum yum yum.

After that Eibhlin and I called into the Allo-Stop office to book a lift home and then everyone piled onto Andy's bed to watch

silly YouTube videos.

We got to the meeting place for the Allo-Stop (this is a brilliant car-pooling service that is cheap, convenient and a chance to practice some French) and shortly after our lift arrived and we had a really nice journey chatting about Quebec, England and Ireland and the people that live there. If only we didn't have to walk 50 minutes after being dropped off to get back to the house it would've been the perfect end to a fabulous weekend. 200km isn't far for a party.

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.

Bruxelles, ma belle

Geoff Meade (my new hero) disapproves of the blogging/facebook/twitter culture where everyone wants their thoughts to be public, their voice to be out there - yelling along with everyone else in the enormous clamour of the internet.

Yes, it is highly self-centred and most people have nothing noteworthy to say. I include myself within that grouping yet I will continue for I need to practice my English. I should say that I am English but after a year in France I've lost a lot of my linguistic capabilities in my mother tongue.

I really ought to sleep mais j'ai fait la grasse matinée so I'm not overly tired and I want to YAY a bit about Brussels before I forget it all.

Monday - Bus at 8am, Train at 9:15, arrive in London at midday. Brief introduction to the European Commission (EC), everyone started talking to each other and got very excited at the free sandwiches, quiche, party sausages and such like.
Took Eurostar to Brussels that evening, hadn't taken reading material as whenever I do in such situations it remains unread - I nicked the G2 off one of the guys I'd just met.
Arrive about 9:30pm in Brussels, get to hotel sometime after 10pm and go out looking for food/drink. Not greatly successful (but not greatly hungry thanks to fruit pastels).

Tuesday - Forgot to change the time zone on my phone/alarm clock so woke up when Fiona bashed on my door at the time when we were supposed to be going down to breakfast. Got ready VERY quickly. Still, I wasn't late for the meeting of the European Journalism Centre (EJC) rep at 8:15am, others were.
Had little intro bits to the EJC and the EC - one by Jean-Paul Marthoz (dude).
Went to the EC (Berlaymont Building) to check it out a bit, see their AV services, go to a press briefing and meet with a spokesperson for Competition.
Lunch at a fancy restaurant (l'Atélier) - three course meal plus aperitif plus wine - with the head of Press & Public Affairs of the UK Permanent Represenation to the EU.
Back to EJC building to be talked to by Simon Taylor (European Voice) and Geoff Meade (Press Association) and then bother them a bit after, supposedly about the challenges of EU reporting.
Quick coffee break before "European Current Affaires" with Jacki Davis (ex-journo, works for a think tank, married to Geoff - I wish I was related to them) Philppe Ricard (Le Monde, very French) and Hajo Friedrich (Frankfurter Allegemeine Zeitung, very German).
Dinner at another fancy joint (La Manufacture) - seated next to a journalist for Radio France and opposite one of the main guys for the European Parliament Press Room.
Wandered aimlessly for a bit in the rain after and then ended up at an Irish bar. Ah well. Back to the hotel about half past midnight.

Wednesday - tbc I'm going to bed now