Je ne parle pas francais...
Well, here I am in Montreal. Thanks to all of the new technology we've come to know and love, I can update you all on my trip so far right from my very hotel room! Yay wireless!
So, the flights were good, but there was a bit of a sour note on my first night here due to the fact that this VERY nice (AKA: expensive) hotel (Omni Mont-Royal) had over-booked (?) themselves, and regretfully the only room they had for me was actually a parlor room of a suite
(that had now been divided up into 3 separate rooms for 3 separate guests) which had a Murphy bed (AKA: small, single bed that folds up into the wall.) Actually, I'm giving them much too much credit, because they didn't tell me this at all; they simply sent me on up to the room and left it for me to discover the situation (AKA: find the bed.)
What???
Yes. That's what I said. So when I make my way back down the 22 stories to the front desk, there's
only one poor girl (who's also new) left there. (What happened to everyone else?) I did not yell, but simply said, "No, this won't do." And she explains she doesn't know what to do, and why would the manager leave her in this
situation, she's having to turn the other guests still to check in away, etc, etc.--all in a terribly charming French-accented sweet little voice. Okay. I won't yell. I proceed back up 22 stories to fire up the "what would I do without it" laptop and cell phone, and ascertain for myself that there aren't any rooms available for the next 4 nights anywhere within walking distance to the Mont-Royal Centre (where the blood-curdlingly exciting Tropical Medicine and Disease Conference is being held.)
At this point, I'm tired and exasperated, and I just pause and ask myself B's favorite refrain: "What would Charlie Mayo do?"
Well, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't freak, and I'm pretty sure he stayed some questionable places in his travels, so I decide this: "I've never slept (or for that matter even seen in real life) a bed that pulls out of the wall, so it's kind of like an adventure, right? And adventures are fun, right?" So I pulled the bed out of the wall, and I went to bed.
And it wasn't really so bad.
The next day I wait until lunch break, (thinking checkout time is noon, right?) and walk right up to Mr. Snotty and say, "I'm in 2211, and I'm ready for you to move me to a room with a real bed now." And he says his snotty comments, which I'm pretty sure meant "I'm so Frenchy-French and you are not..." or somthing like that, and which I choose to ignore (usually a wise choice when you can't understand EXACTLY what's being said,) and then he moves me to a real room with a real bed. Just like that. Easy enough.
So, I'm very proud of this because I never yelled, freaked, cried, fretted, lost sleep, nor let myself be consigned to the tiny-bed-from-the-wall for four consecutive nights.
Moral of the story: When in a seemingly impossible jam, stop and ask yourself, "What would Charlie Mayo do?" It actually might help.
So, anyway. That's done.
Yesterday afternoon/evening I headed off to the Le Jardins botanique de Montreal (or the Montreal Botanical Garden for you non-French-speakers out there :). It was FANtastic! So glad I went. I thoroughly, completely enjoyed it, and got tons of exercise and fresh air, too. So wonderful. I will only include a few of my favorite pics (including one I managed to get of myself with a handy railing and my camera's nifty timer which I had forgotten about.) Everything was so beautiful that I ended up taking over 60 pics! Too fun.
More on Montreal later!
BTW: Title Translation: "I do not speak French..."
So, the flights were good, but there was a bit of a sour note on my first night here due to the fact that this VERY nice (AKA: expensive) hotel (Omni Mont-Royal) had over-booked (?) themselves, and regretfully the only room they had for me was actually a parlor room of a suite
(that had now been divided up into 3 separate rooms for 3 separate guests) which had a Murphy bed (AKA: small, single bed that folds up into the wall.) Actually, I'm giving them much too much credit, because they didn't tell me this at all; they simply sent me on up to the room and left it for me to discover the situation (AKA: find the bed.)What???
Yes. That's what I said. So when I make my way back down the 22 stories to the front desk, there's
only one poor girl (who's also new) left there. (What happened to everyone else?) I did not yell, but simply said, "No, this won't do." And she explains she doesn't know what to do, and why would the manager leave her in thissituation, she's having to turn the other guests still to check in away, etc, etc.--all in a terribly charming French-accented sweet little voice. Okay. I won't yell. I proceed back up 22 stories to fire up the "what would I do without it" laptop and cell phone, and ascertain for myself that there aren't any rooms available for the next 4 nights anywhere within walking distance to the Mont-Royal Centre (where the blood-curdlingly exciting Tropical Medicine and Disease Conference is being held.)
At this point, I'm tired and exasperated, and I just pause and ask myself B's favorite refrain: "What would Charlie Mayo do?"
Well, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't freak, and I'm pretty sure he stayed some questionable places in his travels, so I decide this: "I've never slept (or for that matter even seen in real life) a bed that pulls out of the wall, so it's kind of like an adventure, right? And adventures are fun, right?" So I pulled the bed out of the wall, and I went to bed.
And it wasn't really so bad.
The next day I wait until lunch break, (thinking checkout time is noon, right?) and walk right up to Mr. Snotty and say, "I'm in 2211, and I'm ready for you to move me to a room with a real bed now." And he says his snotty comments, which I'm pretty sure meant "I'm so Frenchy-French and you are not..." or somthing like that, and which I choose to ignore (usually a wise choice when you can't understand EXACTLY what's being said,) and then he moves me to a real room with a real bed. Just like that. Easy enough.
So, I'm very proud of this because I never yelled, freaked, cried, fretted, lost sleep, nor let myself be consigned to the tiny-bed-from-the-wall for four consecutive nights.
Moral of the story: When in a seemingly impossible jam, stop and ask yourself, "What would Charlie Mayo do?" It actually might help.
So, anyway. That's done.
Yesterday afternoon/evening I headed off to the Le Jardins botanique de Montreal (or the Montreal Botanical Garden for you non-French-speakers out there :). It was FANtastic! So glad I went. I thoroughly, completely enjoyed it, and got tons of exercise and fresh air, too. So wonderful. I will only include a few of my favorite pics (including one I managed to get of myself with a handy railing and my camera's nifty timer which I had forgotten about.) Everything was so beautiful that I ended up taking over 60 pics! Too fun.More on Montreal later!
BTW: Title Translation: "I do not speak French..."
posted by Heather at
4:38 PM
2 Comments:
The Botanical Gardens looks awesome!! I am so jealous, but not of your hotel room. I slept on a murphy bed in college, with my head in "the closet". I felt like I was in a cave or something! Anyway, great photos and I look forward to seeing more of them! Hang in there....
By
Scott, at 5/25/2006 8:38 PM
I called you Tuesday night to let you know Prince was performing on American Idol. Hope you saw it in French-Canada. (There's a no Canada like a French Canada...)
By
RynoM, at 5/26/2006 10:04 AM
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