Recently my friend Bonnie and I went to the Montreal Jazz Festival. Very cool, if a little overwhelming. We decided to stay outside of the city in a little place called the Motel Iberville in Saint Jean sur Richelieu, about 20 minutes outside of Montreal. Our plan was to go to one of the Metro end stations from there for the ride into the city. Along the way we could save a little money, and it would be easy getting in and out of the city. And all of that worked just fine.
Now, we know that the Quebecois are very proud of their French language, and we knew that we were going to encounter some people that didn’t speak English so well. Boy, did we ever. Some of their English wasn’t much better than my French, and that’s setting the bar pretty low.
About a month earlier…
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