Risque de congestion…

We had to be in Boucherville, which is the far side of Montreal, for around 3pm, so we had made plans to get there in time for Ottawacker Jr. to fulfill his transit needs and meet up with the rest of the team at the Comfort Inn. Over the weekend, the Ottawa Internationals were taking part in the Amical communautaire tournament, run by SC Longueuil, and being a community club, it was up to us to make our own way there. We had planned to get there a bit early, and have a nosey around the downtown core for a couple of hours, before meeting up with the team at the hotel. Like many a best-laid plan, however, it failed to take into account the daily Montreal traffic snarl up.
 
Somehow, Montreal manages to exist and thrive – but it sure as hell isn’t thanks to the city planners, who have managed to concoct possibly the worst traffic management system in North America. That, as I am sure you realise, is against some seriously stiff opposition. As we went on an emergency detour from our detour, which was unavoidable because we were moving at 5 km/h and had 3 cm wiggle room from the next line of traffic on either side of our car, we realised we were not going to have the free and carefree time we thought we were going to have on the Montreal metro. We managed to get to the hotel on time, however, having taken a mere three hours to cross the city, and so checked in, and soon found the other members of the team, whose parents were all sitting there with the same sense of disbelief and horror, waiting for the first one of us to make a move to the nearest liquor store. I always yearn to be primus inter pares, so led the charge. Willingly.
 
While the team spent the afternoon telling fart jokes and discussing the various merits of Gatorade flavours, the adults found a spot (outside Rebekkah’s room) where we could have drinks and nibbles. It is amazing the uses that can be found for an ironing board. As the drinks and nibbles moved from late afternoon to early evening, and the realisation that we had to eat properly or have a difficult next day, we ordered several shawarma platters from a nearby place and commanded the last of the stragglers to pick them up as they arrived. Then we sat under a solitary tree and ate and drank till around 10, when we decided, regrettably, that tomorrow’s 9am start, with breakfast at 7, would probably be helped by heading off to bed. And once the kids were corralled, that is what happened.