Cue the calypso

tired

ready for bed

but...

caught some amazing music tonight.

I was hellbent on catching two POP groups tonight, got lost (quelle surprise), and had no choice but to make my way back to my hotel. With less than 30% charge left on my phone, there ain't no way in heck that I'm going out in a foreign city not knowing how to get back, that's how bad my lack of sense of direction is. So, hopes for a fun dashed more than slightly, I clambered back onto the elevator at Mont-Royal and resigned myself to yet another hotel room night of fun.

But, quelle to my surprise, when I got out of UQAM-Berri, the sound of zydeco stopped me in my tracks. What was that music?! I wondered to myself. And lo, like Zeus parting the clouds with his lightning-like scissors, stood L'escalier, some hole-in-the-wall located on the second floor like a shady manicure place the news warned you about.

Undeterred, I crossed the street and bounded up the stairs, drawn to the strains of accordion and clarinet music like the rats to the Pied Piper. It was almost like threads binding me to the door, the pull was that strong. And once I got in, it was like coming home.

There were five youngish guys on stage- upright bass, accordion, trumpet, clarinet and drums- and the sound that they put together was enough to keep me there. Not having any idea what anything on tap meant, I ordered a McKeown. Turns out it was s cider and the name alone should have maybe been clue enough that one should not order a drink in a bar with the same name as a Canadian national. But good news is, I won a CD from the band by doing the wild, outrageous act...of raising my hand. Kiddies, your teachers were onto something. Be polite, raise your hands, and good things will come your way.

So now I've got one night left in La Belle Province and I'm sitting here, watching CNN, wondering just where the hell the time went. It seems like only a sunset ago it was Thursday and my train was backing up on the bridge. But alas, it's technically Sunday and I leave in just 16h, minus a few here or there for sleep.

C'est la vie.