Montréal Part 2: O Poutine, My Poutine

27 October 2006
Twenty-two hours is a long fucking time. Twenty-two hours on a train is even longer. Even animals in the wild allow themselves to sleep in a reclined position, which was not an option for me. When I finally disembarked, I was very worn. I took my carry-on bag and sauntered into the Gare Centrale where Marc-O spotted me before I saw him. He patiently awaited for my other luggage to appear from the depths of the VIA Rail private rooms. I plucked my clunky valise from the conveyer belt and we infiltrated the city through a series of underground tunnels and the subway.

I showered at Marc-O's, after which we went out for breakfast at a quaint Italian restaurant (name forthcoming). Naturally, we discussed music in extensia throughout my stay, and this morning was no exception. I ordered L'Intéressante, which is French toast with ham and cheese, and it was brilliant. I tried to get some work done that afternoon, but I was too exhausted from my 800-mile journey to focus on writing an advertorial about a local insurance company (name witheld until they float me some money for namedropping them). I chose instead to peruse his bookshelf, and on his recommendation I began Douglas Coupland's Generation X. Scary how much that book echoed my own sentiments past and present.

Marc-O's afternoon was more productive than mine, and when he was ready for a break, we retreated again to the subway to visit his favourite record shop, Atom Heart. I bought the Hall Ranaldo Hooker collaboration album (Ranaldo being a Sonic Youth regular, for those who don't know--most of you). I also bought the reissued Animal Collective live EP Hollinndagain several days before its original release, a moot point considering I've yet to listen to it. So much for getting a headstart on those who haven't downloaded the thing.

I helped Marc-O prepare dinner, sheepishly chopping broccoli and other miscellany, and we watched Seven Samurai afterwards. I crashed on an air mattress we inflated. Sleep was badly needed at this point. Real sleep, that is.