I'm...in Montreal

Thoughts

Pretty much the only thought in my mind is, I'm in Montreal. I'm looking out my fifth-floor hotel room window on Rue Sainte-Catherine, watching the cars cruise by and the motorcycle 'gang' gather below, and my thoughts have no cohesive narrative, no pattern to them. It's just a jumble of How did I get here? and What's next? I wish I could be more articulate than to utter one-word mumbles of how awesomely fantastic the architecture is, how taking the train in is (even if I'm on the milk run for 6.5h), and how, despite all my shyness, I've already talked to a bunch of people with plans to meet up the next day.

Reality

My hotel is not great. If you've ever seen an episode of Mr. Bean, my room is pretty much the same, only a lot smaller. There's a porcelain sink with a light above (the pull cord appears to only be there for frustration-releasing tugging), a TV that I haven't had the time to test out, a double bed that feels like it was exported hurriedly out of Chernobyl, a nightstand Ikea would probably reject and a 'desk' that's mostly just a flat surface on four legs. Oh, and I've also got a mini-fridge but with only 11h left in here, it probably won't get much use other than to keep my remaining bottle of water cool. There's also no bathroom attached; it's right across from my room and has no soap or paper towels.

But you know what? It's a hotel room that's not a bedbug-infested hostel room, and entirely my own. I've been listening to doowop for the last 3h and nobody can say anything. There's also nobody who'll be sleeping above or below me, or crawl in soused at 3am, using a flashlight to noisily pack their bags.

Misgivings

As with anytime I go traveling, I got lost pretty much the second I got off the train. Everything was fine once I figured out Rue Rene-Levesque was where I wanted to be; ignoring the fact that I was walking into the sun at 16:00 was not so good. I'd walked about 1km before I checked Google Maps and realized it'd be about another 30 minutes before I reached my hotel (I love saying those words- 'my hotel').

I almost bought a ticket to the exhibition game for the Senators v. Canadiens (kinda wishing I did!), but kept walking away from the English-speaking man. Gosh darn it, but I had a media mixer to attend!

It's not even midnight, but I and my swag bag have been ready for bed for hours now. Tood...ZZzzzz...

Also, right this very second, I'm listening to "Save the Last Dance for Me (by the Drifters, of course!), and it's making me think of being in Bratislave, Slovakia.

I miss traveling.