Tea in a Saucepan is how we roll...

Wednesday arrived with a 'clatterboom' as I heard my landlady's shrill voice at 9am, heralding the arrival of our Chinese flatmate, Ka Ki (or Katrina). All I can say is that I'm glad Aziza was up and about otherwise they would have been standing behind that door for a long time. An interesting thing that I should point out which I have noticed both at Strathclyde last year and in Montreal is that students coming from China often choose English-sounding names as monikers during their studies. As cool as this is, I also feel slightly sorry that Chinese people feel the need to choose names that people find easier to pronounce. For example, I would hate to simplify my name, it's my name and everyone should know it (I'm not sure why I'm going on a bizarre tangent here, I'm tired).

Anyway, I hurriedly pulled on my clothes, not wanting to meet my new flatmate in nothing but pyjamas and tried in vain to mould my hair into an acceptable style. We introduced ourselves and spoke to her for a while. She had had an insane 18-hour journey from Hong Kong and was very jet-lagged, poor thing. Leaving Ka Ki to adjust and settle in, I went into the kitchen to prepare a seemingly simple breakfast of toast. Except the fact that the toaster is broken and you have to physically hold the toast down whilst it cooks. I mean, Jesus wept and that's all I have to say on the matter.

However, at around 11am, the landlady very kindly offered to drive us around the block and show us the local landmarks. Firstly she took us to the shopping centre near us, which is probably similar to a retail park. Inside, there was a supermarket, Metro, which I would describe as the equivalent of Morrison's, a shop very similar to B&M and 'Dollarama', a one-dollar shop and possibly my favourite shop here so far (I am a genuinely poor student now, after all). The landlady very kindly waited whilst we did some shopping and then drove us back home, which was great considering how heavy our bags were, via HEC Montreal, which was the first time I had seen it in reality. I have to say, It's quite an impressive building, if not slightly ugly. Although, as my cousin said, it was 'probably sexy in the nineties'.

After we were dropped back home, I fluttered around, trying to make sense of my biggest enemy since the rope frame at the gym, the American-style washing machine. I believe that the washing machine is its own entity, has its own mind and has one goal and one goal only, the goal being to confuse every single international student who uses it. There are so many dials on this thing... I didn't even know where to begin. By a random act of divine intervention or magic, I managed to get some things washed but they didn't turn out very well (although, it might be because the detergent is from Dollarama, go figure).

It's always after you've been shopping that you realise you have forgotten something and I realised that I needed to get another pillow. I have a King-Size bed in Montreal (which I'm not used to, I still use only one side of it, although I intend to learn the spread eagle position momentarily) and I only had one pillow. Not only do I have four at home (don't gasp at me, they are flat and firm, not these big, soft fluffy monstrosities) but the bed just doesn't look right with one pillow. So, I decided to be a big girl and venture out on my own, back to the retail park. I was quite proud of myself for undertaking this expedition, mainly because if I fell and injured myself, I would probably be left to die in the snow (like what happens to climbers on Mount Everest).

I made it to the retail park unscathed and headed to SUPERMAX (the B&M) and found a pillow for $8, which I thought was pretty good. The other thing I needed was a king size sheet because the double one I bought would not fit, no matter how many times I pulled and stretched it. The cheapest one they had was $35 so I think I can live with the double sheet not quite fitting the whole bed for the moment (I've taken student living to extremes). Then, I headed to Dollarama, which is genuinely amazing, bought a few bits and pieces before buying milk at Metro and making my way home. And I made it back alive. Put it this way, if it was socially acceptable to high five yourself, I would have, I was so proud of myself.

Then, I Facetimed my family and it was genuinely great to see them all. It's probably the best part of my day. But then as soon as I sign off, I get a wee bit teary-eyed and start to miss them. Sometimes, I wish they'd just put my sister's iPhone on the sofa, in front of the TV and then I could be with them for a few hours, sort of like a robot. But that would be silly (but possible, I think it could work, wishful thinking...) I'm not sure if these bouts of homesickness are going to pass or not but I hope so. Sometimes, I think I'm being silly because I see my flatmates and they don't seem as homesick as me. Bleurgh!

Around about 8pm, Nana, our Japanese flatmate arrived with her two friends to move some of her stuff into the apartment. When I say 'some' stuff, I mean it looked like she had robbed a shop because she had about fifteen different bags with different things in them. I thought the apartment might explode. Once her friends had helped her move in, we all sat down and had a wee chat (and her friends had a well-deserved rest) before they all went to the bar. It seems I'm not as hardcore as I like to think I am because I didn't go. About an hour later, Ludovica, the last flatmate arrived with friends of her family and she settled in, before going to bed, exhausted from a day's flying. Whilst she was getting a tour, Aziza, Ka Ki and me decided it was a good idea to have a cup of tea and retrieved the kettle. All was well until we looked inside the kettle and discovered it was as black as night. Yuck. So, we settled for the next best thing, a saucepan. Lovely. The best part was that as we were huddled around this saucepan waiting for the water to boil, the landlady described our kitchen to Ludovica as 'well-equipped'. Uh huh.

However, the tea was a success and after a nice wee chat and a laugh, we decided to go to bed because some bright spark at HEC Montreal thought that everyone would like to come for a welcome meeting at 8.30am. Nom.

How the Brave New World Arrives...

I have to say, I find myself strange but usually, I really can take or leave New Year. I always find it a sad time of year, whether its looking back and saying 'Goodbye' to a really amazing year or remembering the events that happened to make a year not so great. Additionally, I cannot put my hands up and say I've ever been truly 'blootered' at New Year before either. And it's not through lack of trying. For example, if we look at Exhibit A, this is a picture of my alcohol from two years ago.

A valiant effort, I think you will agree

I only had half a half bottle of Vodka left over from that and I felt nothing more than tipsy, what a let down. But this is not to say I don't enjoy New Year. I love going up to Inverness for the celebrations and I was sad that I couldn't take part in the revelry this year. 2012 was sort of a 'meh' year for me, mainly because nothing really exciting happened. Sure, I had a great time in Wales and Norfolk but missing T in the Park was disappointing, no matter how much mud there was. So, I have endeavoured to make 2013 the greatest year ever (especially seeing as we didn't die in the apocalypse).

On Monday, we went through our normal routine, which I'm sure you are all familiar with by now and decided to go to the supermarket that was down the road from my cousin's. As it turns out, this was my first taste of fending for myself as I was given the reins to do some shopping of my own. My bill eventually came to about $50 and that was just for the bare minimum of basics. Butter, cheese slices, ham, bread, shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath, pringles (which were the cheapest crisps, believe me) besides others. I could cry but I can't afford the tissues to wipe the tears away.

We then headed back to the apartment and chilled for a few hours before getting ready to go out. At 7pm, we rang out respective mothers and fathers who were both spending New Year with each other to wish them a 'Happy New Year'. It was quite strange, ringing them from the past when they were already in 2013. Not that they cared anyway, I think most of them were pretty sozzled! We then caught the bus to the Old Port where we were going to spend New Year. We had booked a table at a Mexican restaurant for half eight and was given the set menu. I can't even describe how yummy the food was. For starter, we had a plate of traditional Mexican food, such as Nachos, Guacamole, Salsa, Black Beans... Oh my, I was in food heaven and that was before my enchilada came. Om nom nom. All washed down with a few Pina Coladas. And the best part about that was the fact that neither my cousin or Benoit liked cherries so I got those as well (part of your five a day, glaces cherries...).

However, The best part about the restaurant was the entertainment. Halfway through our meal, a two-man Mariachi band went round each table and played a song for each table. When he got to my table, he asked if I had any requests. In hindsight, I should have requested 'Gangnam Style' but I think Santana was about as modern as it got with this band and stated I had no preference. It didn't matter though because they were amazing and they made my night.

After the meal, we headed down to the Old Port where the street party was just getting underway. There was a lot of hustle and bustle and the Old Port definitely wins the most prettiest part of the city award. There are just so many old, pretty and grand buildings, it's all very impressive. We made it onto the main street, where a live band were playing songs by artists such as One Direction, which although aren't my favourite (and that's an understatement), it got the mood going. We then crossed the road to the waterway and were given a pair of what looked like retro 3D glasses. It wasn't until we put them on, we realised that they had a kaleidoscope effect on lights. And they were amazing. Amazing in a sort of trippy, psychedelic LSD trip. In fact, I'm pretty sure I know how The Beatles felt like when they tried LSD.

We then took a walk around, past the Ice Skating rink before taking our position for the bells and the beginning of fireworks. There was the big countdown, the cheering and fist pumps to welcome 2013 before the fireworks started. And they were fantastic. Although I'm not sure if it was the glasses that made them more spectacular. In fact, those glasses would probably make any back garden fare look spectacular. It is my theory that they mass produced these glasses because it was cheaper than buying amazing fireworks. But in any case, it still looked amazing and I will be taking these glasses to every firework display I go to now (because I go to firework displays so regularly, of course).

After the fireworks, the party really got started, with a Coca Cola sponsored DJ set, which was amazing. The setlist was excellent and there was free cans of Coca Cola just flitting about. My cousin, Benoit and me spent the next hour just dancing in the snow, even doing Gangnam Style in it (and I don't think many people could say they have done that). We then headed back to the apartment and eventually got in about 4am, which to someone who had just started a sleeping pattern, was quite tiring. 

I can safely say that that was one of the best New Year celebrations I've ever been to. So maybe in the future I won't be such a sourpuss (well, not about New Year anyway, I'm still an eighty-year old woman stuck in a twenty year old's body). And that will never change. Fact.

Bonjour Montreal!

Bonjour from Montreal! Finally, I now have the opportunity to sit down and blog about my first proper day here in this wonderful, albeit snowy city before I forget all the details. Currently, I'm unable to post pictures but I will endeavour to do so on Tuesday, when I move into my OWN apartment (super mega adult mode activated).

So, where do I begin? Well, as the immortal Julie Andrews once said, the beginning is a very good place to start (and I think I just out-camped myself there, bravo).

After spending a wonderful, sordid four hours sleeping in my own bed for the last time, I was rudely awakened at 5.50am by my alarm and had my last ever Scottish shower, which I felt had to be noted. I'm not sure if other people do this when they go on holiday or what not but I actually went upstairs said 'Goodbye' to my bedroom out loud. I can't really decide if that's mental or not but it felt right. It's the little things in life...

We all left the house at 7am and drove to the airport and a strange occurrence happened on the way there, when 'Good Riddance' by Green Day came on the radio. Never have those lyrics been so apt and appropriate. It was like some weird, divine intervention sort of thing. We arrived at the airport and checked in before heading up to just outside security where the time came to bid farewell to my family. I'm not even lying when I say it was absolute horrific, everyone was crying, even the boys! Seriously, between my mother and myself, wet floor signs were probably placed and a mop needed after we had left. Somehow, I managed to leave them behind though and head through security before buying a few bottles of water and a necessary, obligatory puzzle book from WHSmith.

Now, one thing about flying from Glasgow to London is that you don't get much time to roam about in the Duty Free, which was quite sad although, from another perspective, it was crazy how efficient it was. All in all, the flight down to London Heathrow was superb, the only thing that happened was that the plane dipped for about two seconds and I genuinely thought that we were either going to crash, or if it happened again, I would die of a heart attack because mine's was racing. This was made worse by the fact that I was playing Temple Run and I do this bizarre, stupid thing when I play it, where I bet myself that if I don't get above a certain score, something bad will happen, which then turns up the pressure and usually gets me through. For some reason, I decided to tempt fate by saying if I didn't get above a million, the plane would crash. Why my scumbag of a brain decided to think this up, I don't know. But I will never do it again. Idiot.

I arrived at Heathrow and made it straight into Terminal 5... which was one of the coolest things I've ever seen. It was like a shopping mall. You had your WHSmith, Boots, then you sort of worked your way up, past souvenirs and Duty Free to the really high end shops, such as Gucci and Prada. Needless to say, I did not venture into these shops because I looked exactly like Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, minus the bin. I roamed for a bit as I had a good three hours to kill before my connecting flight to Montreal and then 12pm hit which meant lunchtime. I went upstairs I was confronted with the worst dilemma I've come across in a while. Wagamama's or Giraffe. Genuinely, I walked between them about five times, deciding which one to go to. I was surprised I wasn't accosted by security and taken for questioning because I must have looked suspicious. It was a hard call but at the end of the day, I decided on Giraffe. Now, at first, I felt a bit pathetic asking for a table for one, until you're suddenly front of the queue and shown to your table immediately. After that, I soon forget about being on my lonesome and celebrated the solitude with a diet coke (I actually typed 'cock' there, thought you all oughta know that). After some Chicken Popsticks and a weird combination of Mac n' Cheese with tortilla chips (I regretted that choice afterwards, the burger sounded so much better), I got a seat somewhere and relaxed before getting a tram to my boarding gate and boarded my flight.

The flight to Montreal was amazing and went surprisingly quick. The in-flight entertainment was impeccable, with The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, Michael McIntyre's Comedy Roadshow, Inception and Brave all getting nommed. The meals were actually decent too. And I got a snooze, which never happens on a plane. Ever.

Finally, after seven hours, we touched down in Montreal and I have to say, seeing all the city lights from the sky got me all excited and buzzing in general. My first contact with the cold was when I noticed the access corridor from the plane to the terminal was frozen and covered with ice. I can't say that was a great sign of things to come.

I think I have bored everyone now which this overly long and unnecessary blog about airports. Sorry! Part two coming to a screen near you soon!