Apartheid Bus-Ride

Buses are just amazing. I was very excited about getting the Greyhound from Toronto to Montreal. I got to the bus station very early so I could be near the front of the queue and able to get a window seat. As the bus filled up it was looking very promising that I'd have the double seat to myself. Unfortunately, just as the driver turned on the engine a latecomer ran up to the bus and demanded to be let on. Much to my chagrin the driver actually let him on, and furthermore he came and sat next to me! Now, not only do I find not being punctual the height of rudeness, I also hate white South Africans. When travelling on public transport by yourself, if you do have to sit next to someone, the only type of person you want sitting next to you in a pretty girl. The last person you want sitting next to you is a late, talkative, nosey white South African male. Now I had specifically created a playlist for my iPod that was the exact length of the bus journey, and had designed the playlist so that the song "Two Girls From Montreal" by The Bicycles ("two girls from Montreal would you let me tag along?") would come on around the time of entering the city. Any interruptions would throw the audio journey out of whack. But interruptions are what I got. He wanted to know where I was from, why I was in Canada, what I was listening to, whether he could have some of my confectionary, whether I hated black people (ok, so I didn't ask the last question, but you know he was thinking about it). It was horrific. Having headphones on and staring out the window was not a hint to this fool. My precious bus ride had been spoiled. I was most upset.

I had organised to go view a flatshare the evening of my arrival in Montreal. So after finding a cheap hotel I went to view the flat and meet my potential flatmate. Although I am (obviously) a major fan of public transport, one thing I do hate is when a city's public transport does not have ticket machines. With ticket machines it is very easy to work out what ticket you need for your destination, but without them you're restricted to being a tourist and unavoidably looking foolish. This is compounded by being in a city where they don't speak English (or it's not the primary language in Montreal's case), and there's an added difficulty in getting the pronunciation of your destination correct. And not to mention having to sift through a handful of unfamiliar coins! The whole thing is just one big embarrassing exercise, an exercise that could so easily be avoided with the implementation of ticket machines. The Montreal city council will be recieving a letter.

The flat turned out to be great! The girl I'd be living with has a lot of the same interests (most importantly music and Arrested Development); it was in a good area, close to all the hip and happening scenes of Montreal. I expressed my interest in the flat and Lucie said that she too was into it. A deal was done.
I then ended up going to a gig with the girl whose room I'd be taking and some her friends. I was initiate into Montreal by getting my head bitten off by the bartender for not tipping her (don’t get me started on tipping).

For someone who likes his personal space, a month of not having a room has being quite upsetting. I'm feeling quite relieved at the moment. My new room is pink and has flowery curtains. I'm extremely pleased about this. I figure if I'm unable to get into a girl's bedroom I can at least have one of my own.

The acquisition of an abode has not ceased my travelling just yet though. In order to obtain my work visa for Canada I need to leave and re-enter the country. So I've decided to take the bus(!) down to New York for a few days. My enthusiasm for the bus hasn't been dampened by my previous experience, I'm, once again, very excited about my impending trip and have started working on a new playlist for my iPod.