Bound for Quebec

I rise just after 8. Don't want to be late. We have a train to catch.

The kids turn up at 10:15. We laze around for a while. Quite literally in Andrew's case as he gets into bed.

We check out at 10:45 and get an Uber to the station. Montreal Gare Centrale is remarkably well disguised as an office block. Inside, it’s quite cramped, too. Not quite as charmless and alienating as Birmingham New Street. But not far off.

We plonk ourselves down in the business lounge to wait. I get myself a coffee.

Our train is coming from Ottawa and appears to be on time. Which is good. We're sitting in the little compartment thingy again. Which is nice and private. And the business class seats are pretty comfy.

There's a drinks service straight after boarding. I get a gin and tonic again, while the kids have beer.

It's all very green and agricultural outside. With the occasional small town. And lots of trees. A few times we get a view of the mighty St. Lawrence River. Which makes the Rhine look like a little stream.

“Would you kill a seagull, Dad? Alexei asks.

“No. Of course not.” I reply.

“Not even if it stole your chips?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a twat.”

“That’s open to question.” Andrew chips in.

“OK. I’m not an animal-abusing twat.”

“I’ve seen you kill mosquitos.” Alexei says.

“Those evil bastards don’t count.” I say.

“That’s a slippery slope, Dad. Who knows which animals ‘won’t count’ next.” Andrew buts in.

“Look, I’m not an animal torturer.”

“Just an animal murderer, for certain species.”

“You’re defending fucking mosquitos, Andrew. The things that eat you alive, given half a chance?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Right. I stand 100% behind my anti-mosquito stance.”

“It’s hard for you to stand up 100%, let alone behind anything.” Alexei says.

“Thanks. That makes me feel so much better.”

“My pleasure.”

My Creole Haddock is OK. Certainly, far better than most KLM meals. And two glasses of red wine help it slip down more easily.

Our hotel isn't very central. It's about a 20-minute ride from Quebec railway station. After checking in, we hang around in my room for a while wondering what to do. Alexei has found a pub with a decent beer selection nearby: Café au Temps Perdu. We head there.

There's a supermarket nearby. But we'll leave that for on the way back. Au Temps Perdu is a lively neighbourhood bar. We sit on the terrace. As the sun sets behind suburban houses. Dead relaxing, is how I would describe it. The air is still and the light golden.

I get a Noctem Catnip IPA, the kids have cider. And some food: beef dumplings, fried calamari and poutine. The poutiine is really good: rich and deeply savoury. It really does seem to be better in Quebec. The gravy is almost like brown sauce, in a very good way

It's a lovely summer evening and customers drift in and out, the crowd becoming noticeably younger as time drifts on. I get an espresso martini for my second drink. What the hell, I'm on holiday. 

A wonderful local bar. I’m so glad Alexei found it. One of the highlights of the trip so far.

“You're going to have to rate all the cities once we're done, Alexei.”

“What?”

“Score them all 1 to 10.”

“Well, you're a minus one.”

“We're not rating each other.”

“Why not, if we're rating cities?”

“You're missing the point.”

“That you don't want to be criticised?”

“Just go fuck yourself.”

“Exactly. That proves my point”

We drop by the supermarket on the way back. Milk, sandwiches, crisps. That sort of thing.
Back in my room we hang around for a while. I turn in around midnight again. Canadian clubbed.


 
Café au Temps Perdu
867 Av. Myrand,
Québec, QC G1V 2V8.
http://www.cafeautempsperdu.com/