My feet hurt

Montreal makes my feet hurt.

The first thing my sister and I did, after checking into the hostel, is look for food. We ended up walking around for a half an hour to eat to a place that was right down the street. That pretty much set the tone for the entire trip.

We didn't use the Metro, because it seemed like a good idea to walk around to take in all the sights and sounds of this very French-Canadian city. That, and because my conversation with the Metro ticket guy didn't go very well.

Me: Hi, how much do we have to pay to use the Metro?
Metro Ticket Guy (very french accent): Where are you going?
Me: Oh, I don't know. I just want to know how to use it.

Janine starts walking away.

Me: Uh, ok, never mind. Bye.

My sister says that we're the least organized people ever, and that might be true, but I don't think it is. These are pretty much how all my trips are. In fact, I feel this might be the most organized trip I've ever taken, because we actually booked a room at a hostel and our train ride beforehand, and we had a couple of things planned to do, like visit old Montréal, buy bread, and climb the mountain that made my feet hurt. Most of my other trips, usually with Brett, end up driving around aimlessly for hours.

This weekend was the weekend where all the students in Montreal go back to school, so over the last couple of days there have been large groups of cute college girls and guys who want to fuck them prowling around the city. I could tell they were having a good time, because pretty much every group would yell out "Whoo!" or scream "Rarr!" randomly. I don't speak French Canadian, so I assume that "Whoo Rarrr!" means "We're having a lot of fun."

One of the kids told us that one of his friends stole $60, but that we shouldn't worry. I'm glad he told me this, because I would have stayed up half the night in anguish had he not reassured me.

Another group was in a car, dancing around, putting their hands up for Detroit. I am fairly sure that they were not from Detroit, mostly because people from Detroit would NOT be dancing around like they were. I'm also sure because my sister and I are still alive by now, and if anyone from Detroit saw us looking at them with the expressions we had on our faces, they would have shot us dead on the spot.

I think that because my sister and I look like we're still in college, other tourists assume that we aren't tourists as well. One group asked us where a certain restaurant was located, and while we were on a boat to get to Isle de Saint-Helene, an elderly couple asked how long the ride was. The answer to both questions were "I have no idea."

We go back tomorrow, and we probably should be out doing something cool, but instead I'm sitting on the computer, writing this out. That isn't so bad though, this French lady sitting next to me has been here all day, trying to get her webcam to work and looking up things to do. She asked me about what we did today, because, in her words, she's "getting desperate". I asked her if she's leaving tomorrow too, and she said "No, I'm here for another 4 months. I'm going to school here."

Canada.