No clever titles this trip. It’s gonna be a long one.
The drive up was nice, excepting the insane Big Dig traffic in Boston. Taking 89 up through Vermont is a win from an aesthetic standpoint; it was a bit late for much of a view of the islands, but on the way back S. and I expect to be able to bask in natural beauty. Customs happened. This year, our maps were accurate and we found our Montreal domicile without trouble.
Said domicile — well, 210 square feet is 210 square feet. Clearly, the owner took an apartment that covered the entire first floor and chopped it into three apartments for short term rental. The flaw is a lack of apparent air conditioning and no windows; it’s substantially hotter in the apartment than it is outside. Also, I have not yet figured out their wireless. So it goes. [Update: wireless!]
We’re three subway stops away from Guy-Concordia and the venues. Tim Horton’s makes good coffee. Right now — 11:20 AM — I’m waiting for the box office to open up so I can horrify the nice young lady by asking her to print out 64 tickets. Eventually they’re going to figure out a better system for this.
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