Category: USA, Canada, NYC, France 2016

Sunday 20 March

We head out of the apartment for our first walk, of this visit, in Central Park.  Before we get more than maybe 10 metres we realise it is too cold for a walk in the park.  The sun shines but that’s a cold breeze ablowin’.  So a quick change to schedule and we take the subway to Columbus, and walk up Central Park South to Lexington.

Past the horse drawn carriages and the tourists sitting in those carriages with balaclavas, beanies, gloves and huge coats on, pretending to enjoy themselves in this cold, cold wind.  Indeed, we pretend to enjoy ourselves walking against the breeze.  Actually, truth be told, we do so because we can see spring starting to spring in Central Park

Christine is a little concerned that Cherrie is not getting too cold, as this is her first day out since her illness.  But they make ‘em strong in Quirindi and Cherrie insists she’s fine.  We get to Bloomingdales….. just because.  It’s just like we both remember David Jones being when DJ’s was still a classy store.  Floor walkers, gentlemen who will assist you with enquiries, fitted out in sartorial splendour.  Quiet music playing, a genteel feel.  Of course we buy nothing but we spend a happy hour in the store wishing we were several sizes smaller and several stages richer.  We even have lunch in one of the many little in-store cafes.

We then walk past the Plaza, still a wonderous hotel with all the bangs and whistles, and through the classy end of the west side of town and we soak up a bit of the architecture of this wonderful city that never sleeps

 

We catch up for dinner with our dear friend Ronnie, an artist and all round amazing woman with so much energy as to leave us disbelieving of her advanced years

We are home before 9pm but Christine has to stay up because the Wollongong based computer maintenance company we engage is booked to hook in remotely to her computer at 9.30pm NY time (12.30pm Monday AEST) to resolve a syncing issue. The calendars are not syncing, resulting in the calendar on her phone being empty, not useful when trying to make appointments if away from the computer (which is most of the time).  This fix takes much longer than anticipated, and in fact by 11.30pm it is still not resolved.  The technician, a seemingly nice fellow called Scott, suggests we leave it until the next day so he can research a fix.  Christine readily agrees, saying to Scott (this ‘conversation’ all takes place on the keyboard) that she is old enough to be his grandmother and it’s past her bedtime.  To her chagrin, he immediately responds saying, verbatim “I know, and I think you are awesome.  You are much more computer literate than anyone else I know of your age”.

Unable to find the virtual slap key to send to him!

Monday 21-Friday 25 March inclusive

Far too much happening for us to keep daily records.  We have had a great week in New York catching up with friends, walking, ticking things off our wish list and having an all-round fun time.  We have gone at a nice pace, and had plenty of down time.

We even found time to change the sheets on the bed

 

Oh, and by the way, a correction with regard to the sofa height.  It is 25cm high, not the previously reported 45cm.   Little wonder the difficulty of Granny getting out of it.

Other joys of the apartment we have discovered is the propensity for the circuit breaker to trip for no apparent reason, although we quickly learned that nothing else can be on when the hair dryer is in use.  But even without the dryer, the breaker sometimes chooses to trip.  That results in a total blackout in the apartment and a trip down to the basement to reset the circuit breaker.  We are so immuned to it by now that we head down to the basement in whatever state of dress we are in.  Cherrie put a pair of tracky pants on the other evening, with her nighty over the top and her puffer jacket.  She might as well have walked in from living in the subway, but no one turned a hair!

One of the things high up on our wish list was to visit the Cloisters, the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s outpost for their medieval collection which is housed in a reconstructed French Monastery on 4 acres in Northern Manhattan overlooking the Hudson River.  We visited last time we were here but on that occasion we decided to take the bus so that we could see the suburbs of Manhattan.  Big mistake.  The bus ride took hours and, whilst interesting, resulted in our arriving at The Cloisters just as the doors closed at the end of the day!  So, this time we took the Subway, a 40 minute ride.

What a superb exhibition in a brilliantly designed environment.

 

There’s even a little statue of Shane Warne

We just loved this experience.  One for you, John & Sancha.

Back to the computer for another two hours and finally young Scott found the fix for Granny and all is syncing nicely.

Many walks around midtown reveal an optometrist who can fill Cherrie’s prescription very much cheaper than in Australia and a jeweller who can replicate Christine’s lost pearl drop earring for a very reasonable price.  We visit MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) specifically to see the Degas exhibition, which after paying the admission fee we discover opens next week!  But we do see more Warhol’s, van Gough’s and several Jackson Pollock’s, amongst other treasures.

 

At the Paris Cinema we see a lovely French film called Marguerite, which is based on the story of Florence Foster Jenkins.  Anyone heard of her?  Those of you who have not should have supported CDP more strongly. I produced a play a few years ago called SOUVENIR about FFJ.  A wonderful character and a true story.  Marguerite strays from the truth a bit, but it is full of fabulous performances and poignant moments.  Sooky Cherrie wept.

We catch up with our dear friends Susan Lyons and her husband Jefferson Mays.  Susan is an Australian actress who now lives in NY, of course, with Jefferson who is one of the country’s most admired and lauded stage actors.  He won a Tony, Oliver, Drama Desk and Helpmann Award for his extraordinary performance in I AM MY OWN WIFE and he has just closed a 2 ½ year run starring (above title no less) in A GENTLEMANS GUIDE TO LOVE AND MURDER.  We love Susan and Jeffer and they stay with us at Quamby whenever they are in Australia and we travelled to Italy with them a few years ago.  A joy to see them in their new apartment, which they have bought, on the upper west side near Columbia University.

More Primaries on Tuesday, following the Brussels bombings.  This has bought out record crowds in Arizona and Utah and the election booths stay open for hours longer than they were supposed to.  We fear that these are the hard right voters, mostly those who have not voted before.  But still the GOP is exploring ways to ensure Trump does not get their nomination, despite the fact that he is streets ahead.

On Wednesday night we see Michael Feinstein at Carnegie Hall.  Feinstein is one of the great exponents of the American Songbook, a protégé of George Gershwin and a wonderful performer.  He is joined by special guests, all stars of Broadway, Liz Callaway, Christine Ebersole, Susan Powell and we are even treated to the great John Bucchino for a few numbers on piano.  Bucchino’s songs have been recorded by the likes of Art Garfunkel, Liza Minnelli, Patti LuPone, Kristin Chenoweth, Audra McDonald (must be related to Cherrie) and Barbara Cook.  A wonderful concert which we love, and to be in Carnegie Hall is a treat too.  Afterwards we have a drink on the Roof Top of the Viceroy Hotel, a little known venue with a secret entrance which Cherrie’s optometrist put us on to.  VERY expensive drinks, but a great view.

 

On Thursday we head out early to the NY Botanical Gardens in the Bronx and a lecture by an Italian designer on creating gardens.  Most enjoyable, and then we are treated to a special showing in the library of some of their rare botanic books, some first editions, and wonderful drawings.  Followed, of course, by a walk around the gardens.

 

We take the subway back to Grand Central Station and then walk at a pace for 45 minutes to meet Ronnie at a gallery down in Chelsea (it was further than we thought) where we see an exhibition by a sculptor friend of hers.  A stroll along part of the Highline

then to the Red Cat Restaurant for possibly the best meal of the trip.

On Friday we wake up to CHERRIE’S BIRTHDAY.

We meet Susan, and Mandy Bishop (another friend) in Central Park and walk right around the Jacqueline Onassis Reservoir.  Oh, what a glorious park this is.

Then that night, we dine at the River Café in Brooklyn, right under the Bridge, in the suburb called DUMBO (down under the Manhattan Brooklyn Overpass).  Cherrie has wanted to eat here since 2007 when we walked over the Brooklyn Bridge and saw this glorious place.  We booked in January, and we got the best table in the house.  Right on the windows, right on the river.  We were joined by Susan and Jefferson and it was a very special night.

 

What a good place to end this blog.  More of our next week next week.

Happy Easter to all. By the way, only Easter Sunday is a public holiday here.  Everything open on Good Friday and Easter Monday!!

 

 

 

 

Tuesday 15 March
We fly with Delta from Quebec to New York. We are reminded at just how ordinary US airlines are, we really are spoiled with Virgin and Qantas in Australia. However it is a short enough flight (2 hours) and then into JFK which seemed very quiet. But an Emirates flight landed at much the same time as us we guess, since there is an enormous blended queue at immigration. And, one booth open. We stand in a queue for more than an hour before we pass through the actual screening process quite quickly. Clearly there are others who look more terrorist like than us.

We booked our Airbnb apartment on the upper west side a year ago. We chose this area because many of our friends have now moved here, from further downtown – primarily the Village and Chelsea. But also because we are not as familiar with this area as we are with the others, and from here we can get to know Central Park intimately with a walk each and every morning. That’s the plan.
We identified this apartment because there is a lift in the building (and a year ago Christine was not doing stairs), a functioning kitchen, a decent sized living space (in case we want to entertain) and a bedroom which allows access from both sides of the bed.

We arrive by cab to our home for the next month in W90th St, between Central Park West and Columbus. A dream location. But, we’re not as thrilled as we had hoped to be. The place is a little tatty

the bed is jammed up against a wall and so high that we have to sort of roll into it on our backs. Literally, it is 150cm high!

Here it is again with a desk height chair to give it some perspective

Over the next few days we will get very adept at gymnastics, as we make our way into and out of this bed. And you can only imagine the manoeuvres when the one by the window needs to get out of bed without disturbing the one not by the window! Suffice to say such a manoeuvre is impossible.

The kitchen is t-i-n-y, and one can’t make toast and boil the kettle at the one time for fear of blowing a fuse! There’s very little crockery etc, two only mugs (no cups) and NO wine glasses, but there are 4 (only) emergency a tumblers which will do!! The furniture is all old and tatty

And, in contrast to the bed, the sofa is unbelievably low, at 45cm high. 45cm! Can you imagine Christine getting out of that? Only three options we have discovered…..Cherrie hauling, block and tackle (as yet unsourced) or bum-shifting to the corner where we have placed the desk from the bedroom as a self-hauler. The latter is the most commonly used and always accompanied by much deep breathing and huffing and puffing. My, this is going to test the knee.

Needless to say, our plans for entertaining go right out the window. But on the plus side our ‘host’ is a very charming director of alternative film and theatre who is keen to make sure we are as comfortable as we can be. He even went out and bought an iron and ironing board for us when I enquired about them. He’s a bloke….he sends his laundry out!

Wednesday 16 March
We head out early to Christine’s chiropractor appointment, then get a local sim card for Christine’s mobile (cell) phone and walk, walk, walk before grocery shopping and returning to home. We get in about 2pm and unpack fully for the first time in a month and, oh the joy of access to a washing machine and dryer (in the building basement). It’s the little things that thrill! Even if there is nowhere to hang our clothes, we make do with a little imagination. We’ll get used to this place, and have already moved furniture around to make it more practical for us. We want to be sure to eat in more than out so we have to find a way to make it work. Wild Atlantic salmon for dinner, home cooked under very trying circumstances, but palatable.
Then we discover Netflix and watch Ep 1 of Season 4 of House of Cards. Uh oh….

Thursday 17 March
Cherrie has woken up crook as a chook. She reckons it’s a result of those coughing Emirates passengers in the immigration queue. She remains tucked up in bed all day. Christine sets herself an almost insurmountable challenge to cook soup for the infirm in the almost completely unmanageable kitchen…but stuff is moved onto the sitting room floor to free up bench space and carrot soup is cooked. And consumed. A good sign.

Christine goes for a long walk around the neighbourhood. Down 90th and along Amsterdam and Columbus reveals more eating places, some bottle shops (always a relief to know they are nearby) and clearly a Jewish community. Further down to the low ‘80’s is Irish territory and today is St Patricks Day. It’s all a bit raucous for an Australian retiree and so she heads home.

Watching tele, we get lots of Primaries Updates. The Republicans are deeply troubled by Trump and are exploring ways to block his nomination at the July convention. These are unchartered waters, but there are an awful lot of Republicans who can’t bring themselves to vote for him and so if he ends up being the nominee then it seems that many GOP members will either not vote at all in the November election or move to the Democrats. The general opinion is that Hillary will get the nomination, despite many people liking Bernie Sanders and his socialist policies. They feel that he just doesn’t have the power to engage Congress, whereas Hillary does.

We are amused by the TV ads for “Australian Dream Arthritis Cream”. And for “Kangaroo Biscuits”. Both Australia’s favourite apparently.

Climbing into and out of this impossibly high bed is proving problematic but there is no way to lower it or to move it away from the wall to give access. Our only option is to take up training. It’s a bit easier for Christine who is not as vertically challenged as Cherrie. God only knows how we will change the sheets when the time comes. Another challenge to look forward to.

Friday 18 March
Cherrie a little better but not up to going out yet. Christine makes her own way downtown to the Chiropractor again (that Quebec fall had quite an impact on her neck) and potters around a bit. When she gets back at 3pm Cherrie is up and dressed, feeling a little better but not yet ready to go out.
A quiet afternoon in and pasta for dinner. More episodes of House of Cards.
We are planning a walk around Central Park tomorrow with a friend. Snowstorms forecast for Sunday!

Saturday 19 March
Cherrie worse, not better. She now has a savage cough and a fever. Cancel our friend, Central Park will still be there when Cherrie is better. She manages to get down to the consulting chemist on the corner and has now returned home with pills and potions and is tucked up in bed. Christine does some food shopping for later and then heads out again into the fray of Manhattan. She feels bad about leaving Cherrie but is encouraged to do so by the invalid. She alights the subway at Columbus Circle, at the southern end of Central Park and directly opposite Trump Tower. There is a demonstration in Central Park

What could they be demonstrating about?

She walks down to Times Square, just because, and anyway Cherrie hates Times Square. It’s Saturday afternoon and CD can sort of see why Cherrie is not fond. She wanders aimlessly, the boys in blue are out in force

Ice skating

At the Rockefeller Centre

And then returns home, where Cherrie is feeling miserable. More of that home- made soup for lunch and a very quiet afternoon. Until Christine starts to make Julia Child’s Coq Au Vin for dinner, at which time the crashing of the (very few) pots and pans start. Prior to the swearing.

She understands the concept of small apartments and tiny kitchens but this place lacks any order. Christine realises how important order is in her life. This place could be so much more comfortable…..

The Coq Au Vin is palatable, but not a patch on yours, Mary. That was particularly lovely. Mind you, no casserole dish might be one of the issues – who cooks this dish in a saucepan…was Christine mad?

We finish Series 4 of The House of Cards.

Sunday 20 March
Yippee, Cherrie is feeling better. She is up and dressed and we are shortly going to go out for a stroll in Central Park. Mind you, moving slowly. It’s 11.15am and we’re still here, but heading off soon.

Predicted snow storm did not eventuate and it looks like a lovely day. Although we can’t see the street from here, the apartment faces an internal courtyard, which we can’t see either since we are on the 4th floor but we can see this, which we think is rather cute

The advantage of looking out over the street is that you can see what people are wearing and how rugged up they are. The weather has been very mild really, just jumpers and a coat. No need for hat and gloves. The Michelen man has lost weight!
It’s also a quiet apartment, we hear no traffic noise but we do hear the constant rumble of the helicopters. Perhaps Central Park is the attraction?

Out into the fray, to see what delights New York offers us today, before dinner with a friend tonight.

Adendum to most recent blog, just because it looks so much more dramatic!!

Oh, Quebec, how glorious you are. We have left the best to last in Canada. What a truly beautiful place this is. We are staying in a hotel (another triumph from booking.com and tripadvisor) in the old town, overlooking that magnificent St Lawrence River. It’s tidal, and we stand at the hotel window ogling the great chunks of ice moving downstream at quite a pace, and then upstream later in the day. One day, right on midday, we notice that the ice has stopped. It’s still. The tide is changing and within half an hour it’s moving again, in the other direction. We antipodeans are fascinated by the beauty of this ice. Each day there is a little less.

We arrive in this gorgeous city on Friday 11 March , shortly after 4pm and by the time we get to the hotel and check in there is just enough daylight to take a walk to get our bearings.

Oh, my lord, the slippery streets! Deep snow against all the buildings and ice on the pavements. You take your life in your hands in this city at this time of year, as the snow melts but the ice remains below. We, along with everyone else, walk on the streets when the pavement is iced over, and the drivers are extremely tolerant. Obviously used to this. It is almost as if pedestrians have right of way. Perhaps they do.
Once again we hear about what a mild winter they have had. They had a few days of -35◦F (that’s -37◦C folks!) but only a few. What a mild winter indeed! For our stay in Quebec it was really mild – we had days of -5◦C to +2◦C, and believe me that’s warm they say. The river usually freezes over in November and doesn’t break up until April. This season it didn’t freeze up until January and is already breaking up.
On Saturday, our first full day in Quebec, we make our way up the hill. This is a hilly city, with the old port (where we are staying) at river level but it’s not long before we have to make it up the hill to the main old part. This is still a walled city, the only fortified city in North America (north of Mexico at least) and is a UNESCO site. We can clearly see why. Our breath is taken away so many times by its beauty. A surprise around every corner.

That river, which we still can’t take our eyes off, from the top reveals boats on it. Can you believe it? These maniacs go out on what look like kayaks (but I know one of you will correct me), with a crew of 6 or 8, and row to the first ‘iceberg’ and then climb on, haul the boat across it on foot and then row to the next ‘iceberg’. Some slackers just stood on the ice and let it do the work. They travelled a long way downstream, without any work!!

So, then we did as every Australian is expected to do. We went to the Ice Hotel (le Hotel de Glace), a 15 minute bus ride from town, in the apparent middle of nowhere! This is an accommodation house built entirely of ice, kept at -5◦F. They build it (should that be freeze it?) every year to open in January and it defrosts at the end of March! There is even an ice Chapel, which is a very popular wedding spot. Rather different to Reno! It’s all very touristy, kinda weird, and clearly a gimmick but we are pleased we saw it. There are 44 rooms, each with snow covered floors, ice beds with mattresses of some sort (which are not ice), with ice side tables and nothing else. Apparently the guests are provided with sleeping bags. This is a one night stay place, believe me, but I guess there are a lot of folk who want to say they slept in and on ice for a night. We both reckon that an igloo would be more comfortable, but what would we know?

I’ve already mentioned how hilly this city is but what we noticed is that lots of folk use sleds instead of strollers. It’s really cute to see these little folk being pulled along strapped into their sleds instead of their strollers. Very sensible, considering…..
On Saturday night we had a fabulous French meal at a little bistro near our hotel. Cherrie had escargots and fillet mignon and Christine had French onion soup and cassoulet, all washed down with a very decent Bordeaux. Magnifique, and very very French in this most French of North American cities.
Sunday was the most beautiful, sunny day and all of Quebec city (pop. 800,000) seemed to be out and about, obviously enjoying this first spring day for the year. It was warm (2◦C) and absolutely gorgeous. We took a ferry across our favourite river to Isle Lèvis, quite a large island directly opposite Quebec City. It’s a 15 minute ride in an ice-breaker ferry which in itself is exciting enough. Like kids, we leant over the front rail of the ferry and watched the vessel plough through these great thick slabs of ice and smash ‘em to pieces

There’s not much on the island that we could see – it’s where all the little farms are but we would have needed a vehicle to get to them. So we pottered up and down for an hour and saw more snow beaches

Back on the mainland we went to the farmers market, where they sell lots of fish, meat, cheese, charcuterie and a wide selections of oils and vinegar in bulk….take your bottle/s along and fill ‘em up!
As we walked along the waterfront, tenuously on the snow and ice, we saw….Ice fishing of course! A wonderful Sunday family outing for spring, on a part of the river which is still frozen. Ice fishing holes, pre dug, families rent a little stool and fishing rods, or hand held lines, and off you go…

Just Quebec’s version of the family by the river on a Sunday.
Despite the spring in the air, some boats are still stranded by ice

Nearby, the Museum of Civilisation was having an Australian Aboriginal art exhibition, most beautifully curated and displayed

where we saw the works of Emily Kngwarreye, Rover Thomas, artists from Yuendumu, Yirrakala, Papunya as well others from Western Australia and some urban artists. The disgrace which is white Australia’s treatment of the first peoples, and which is clearly displayed in this exhibition, is palpable
Sunday night was very interrupted by a fire alarm which sounded at 2.15am. We leapt out of bed, as one does in such an emergency, and the alarm stopped. We held our breath and waited…nothing. So, deciding it was a false alarm we went back to bed. Just got off to sleep when the alarm went again. For a short time only, but for long enough for us to be disconcerted. No word from management, so we rang downstairs and negotiated a conversation with the not very good English speaking night manager (but a damn site better than my French) ‘we are not sure Madame what is ‘appening….we are not certain if there is a fire…’ Not very reassuring. Meanwhile the fire door in the corridor outside our room had closed itself, as fire doors should. We put on our socks and boots, got our coats ready and packed up our valuables into one back pack, ready for evacuation. Then lay down again as all was quiet. For another 15 minutes. Then the alarm again. The alarm is not only a very loud whoop whoop but is accompanied by a strobe light. Again it stopped after maybe one minute. Then silence. Another phone call from us established that the fire brigade were in attendance but it seems like it is a false alarm. “Oui Madame, please stay t until you ‘ear from us”. Which we never did. We ‘slept’ in our boots and jackets. The alarm triggered another 6 times until peace at 4.50am. The hotel was very decent about it the next morning and gave us a complimentary night’s accommodation…much appreciated.

Clearly we were weary on Monday but nonetheless made the trek up the hill to truly explore the old town.

It’s still cold, as evidenced by the snow everywhere

Which Christine loves

You take your life in your hands in this thawing out weather, not only with the slippery streets, but also with the ice falling from the defrosting roofs. Our taxi driver from the station to the hotel on Friday told us of the man who last week was hit on the head by a lump of ice, resulting in 8 stiches. Yikes!

Sometimes the ice is given a helping hand

And then, as might be expected by all who know her, Christine slipped on ice, fell spectacularly and hit her head and, until now, good knee!!

Remarkably, all ok though and her NY chiropractor (remember, one in every port) will put her whiplashed neck right

At least she’s not the only donkey in town

Tuesday 15 March has us off to New York – on an early afternoon flight. Au Revoir beautiful Quebec….we have fallen in love with you.

Nous voici à Montréal, mais il est alors très Français que nous pourrions être en effet en France déjà

French is their first language but everyone speaks English, in varying degrees of competence.  But all infinitely better than our French. Their menus, television, street signage are all in French. But mercifully the national newspaper is in English! In 1969 then PM Pierre Trudeau officially made Quebec a bilingual province, and so everyone speaks French first and foremost. We are very much the tourist. What an embarrassment that we speak only English.  It’s sort of weird that we are in such a French environment with such an American ‘culture’.

We arrived in Montreal to everything snow and ice covered, much as it was in Toronto when we arrived, but thicker. Montreal is on an island on the St Lawrence River, and the river was largely frozen when we arrived. This is the river view from our delightful hotel room

However, we have seen a dramatic decrease in the ice between arrival on Tuesday and departure on Friday. It is astonishing how quickly everything defrosts, making the streets wet and slippery. Mind you, some things don’t defrost quickly enough, and have to be helped along.  From this

to this

in a mere 40 minutes.

Once again, booking.com and TripAdvisor have excelled. We are staying in an Auberge in the old port and it is absolutely lovely with really friendly and efficient staff. Full breakfast is included in the very reasonable rate, which sets us up for the phenomenal amount of walking we do in this city. Christine is deeply impressed with her chemotherapy doctor, because indeed her knee is holding up particularly well to the exertion. There is such a difference between Old and New Montreal. Nothing really to recommend the new part…just another high rise city but old Montreal has been protected from all development and is charming, accessible and an area we love to just wander around, with its narrow streets and laneways.

We decide it’s time for some culture, so on Wednesday night we go to a concert at the glorious Maison Symphonique de Montreal, opened in 2010. It is a 2100 seat concert hall with magnificent acoustics and comfortable seats. We are at the Orchestre Symphonique de Montreal, conducted by their resident musical director Kent Nagano. The program comprises Debussy’s Jeux, Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No 3 in C Major Opus 26, with an astonishing 25 year old Russian Daniil Trifonov on piano (keep your eyes, or should that be ears, out for him – this boy is amazing) and the second half was Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. The printed (and complimentary) program acknowledges financial assistance, public, corporate and private, in excess of $85m. And, the bespoke organ paid for by a private donor. Oh, the difference in cultural enlightenment between Australia and the rest of the world. Shameful. Michael Lynch’s speech is well timed, although I don’t expect Malcolm to hear it.

All in all, a most enjoyable evening, save for the loss of one of Christine’s beautiful pearl drop earrings, a gift from Cherrie many years ago. I expect that it came off when she removed Mrs Khrushchev’s hat as she got indoors. A search of the lost and found and security departments failed to turn up anything encouraging. Christine is now considering whether to emulate Vincent and cut off one ear, or buy a pair of drop pearl earrings. The major consideration is what she would do with her relatively new, and exceeding expensive, hearing aid. Stay tuned for the final decision.

The following night we went to our first ever (and very possibly our last ever) ice hockey match at the Bell Stadium, a short subway ride away. Sancha, we trust you are impressed with a concert one night and sporting event the next. What an experience the match was. Even trying to get in was a challenge. We had, thankfully, decided not to take our smart leather backpacks but rather consolidate into one small, rather fetching red nylon backpack in deference to our expectation of the possibly shonky crowd, which Cherrie wore. Christine was busy concentrating on retaining both earrings. The match was to start at 7.30pm and we thought we’d do the whole experience so didn’t eat prior but planned the hot dog and coke thing. The first impediment was getting into the stadium. We queued with the very orderly crowd in preparation for passing through the security check, but Cherrie was pulled aside by a uniformed and officious security officer. I went with her of course (yes, I am aware I am shifting between the first and third person in these blogs, but hope you forgive that). Guess what? Backpacks are not allowed into the stadium, and whilst this is not advised on their website it is on the ticket. Which is in French. There are VERY large handbags clearing security but our little ineffectual back pack is banned. We remove Mrs K’s hat and gloves, the umbrella, Cherrie’s hat and wallet and put them in the pockets of our jackets, making us look more like the Michelan man than ever, rendering the backpack empty but still no joy. Our empty backpack is still banned. Meantime, handbags full of explosives and handguns are passing through in the hundreds. Cherrie is tempted to lose it, but Christine has visions of Guatonamo Bay so does her best to placate as we slink off in search of a locker. How ridiculous. There are no public lockers in North America. They were all done away with after 9/11. We walk back to the railway station and against all odds chat up a ticket clerk who is sympathetic and who kindly agrees to hold on to the little empty backpack until the end of the match. What a saviour he is. So, we return to the stadium (thankfully we had time due to our hot dog dining plans) and clear security. Our jackets are so loaded down with hats, gloves, scarves, wallets, camera that we barely fit through the security archway but no one cares, so long as we don’t have a back pack.

We don’t have a hot dog. The Bell Stadium is much more upmarket than that, although there are still 44 gallon drums of popcorn available. We settle for hamburger (Cherrie) and salad (Christine). Cherrie made the better choice.

The match was thrilling. Just to watch ice skating is wonderful – it is by definition a graceful activity. The referees are as entertaining to watch as the players, as they avoid the puck and the players by quick skating manoeuvres which often involve jumping on the air, as if advertising a Toyota. Canada Montreal vs the Buffalo Sabres. Buffalo scored the first goal, to dead silence. Literally. We were not quite sure what had happened and thought perhaps it was a foul. However, soon after when Canada scored its first goal, 27,988 people leapt to their feet and hollered. Then the final two stood. We felt advised to barrack for Canada.

It’s an action packed game, sometimes brutal

Every 10 minutes or so the match would be halted whilst a team of skaters came on with wide shovels and scooped up all the soft ice

Three periods of 20 minutes each, punctuated with two 15 minute intervals, make up the match. In each of the intervals, ice making machines come on and lay a think skim of ice, and repaint the goal area blue.
Canada won, 3-2. It was a great experience and we are very pleased we went. We were in the 3rd back row of the very large and very high stadium so a long way from the action but it was still terrific.

Our saviour had our back pack when we made our way back to the station.

Also in Montreal we went to…..well, guess where? Correct. The Botanic Gardens, a 30 minute subway ride away. We walk past the Olympic Stadium which brings back memories for Christine.

She worked here in 1987 or 88 with the International Opera Festival and Kevin Jacobsen on the stadium ‘spectacular’ production of AIDA, in preparation for the reproduction at the Sydney Football Stadium in 1988. Oh, the horror of that one.

The Botanic Gardens in winter (spring doesn’t start until 23 March in Quebec) don’t have a great display although once again we hear constantly what a mild winter they have had.

But, we spent time in the wonderful glass house displays. We went through the usual tropical, arid, succulent sections etc and everything was so beautifully displayed with really clever and evocative design. The penjing (bonsai) in particular were wonderful – including this Chinese Elm ulmus parvifolia, a staggering 110 years old

and this Japanese Maple acer pallmatum ssp.matsummurae , a pup at a mere 40 years old

There’s also an annual butterfly exhibition, with free range butterflies, which Cherrie spent ages in. Christine doesn’t like flying things near her, even pretty ones, so stayed away.

We also found this glove tree which amused us. I guess the attachments give it a hand to get through winter.

And of course we still love these little fellows

Our few days in Montreal has been another terrific time, with the two very special experiences of the concert and the match.

The gorgeous concierge at our hotel, with whom we have become buddies, checks us out and asks how on earth it is that an apparently civilised country like Australia could have voted in ‘that fool Abbott who was in Canada last year’. How embarrassing.

As we leave the hotel in our taxi it is snowing lightly, but the sun shines. Winter is over.

On the train to Quebec City now. Cherrie sips a Gin and Tonic and Christine allows herself to be talked into a Caesar, in place of her ordered Bloody Mary. The difference? A Caesar is made with Clamato Juice. Tomato and clam juice. Only in North America….the verdict….red wine next time please.

As we speed, train style, to Quebec we note the St Lawrence River still frozen over in places, frozen fields with old stubble sticking up through the ice, roofs snow covered, cars iced in, and we know we are headed to colder climes. Still a very mild year though……everyone recognises global warming and is concerned about it, but grateful for the relief this year.

As we move towards Quebec the landscape changes again. It is now like those snow covered prairies we saw from the trans-continental train. Snow everywhere, piled even higher in front of houses – how do they get to the front door I wonder. Here, as in Toronto, there is so much snow on the streets that they simply can’t shovel it so they bring in the ice melters. Enormous machines driven by one man which sucks the snow into its belly and then, once parked, melts it. The water runs into purpose built drains, away from the streets.
We’ve come upstream, still on the St Lawrence. There are great chunks of ice on the river now, as we are 10 minutes from Quebec City. Huge broken off ice slabs. This river was completely frozen over a few days ago.

Still, the sun shines.

Until next time, au Revoir!