I got to the office on Friday and found that some friends
were going
to be visiting Montreal over the weekend. It was quickly
decided that
I was going to have to join them in looking for an
apartment. An hour
later we had train tickets and hotel reservations.
We had the good sense to travel
VIA1.
We wandered past the frightening
march-break-fueled lines and into the Panorama lounge.
After a half hour
of leather-couched goodness we were let onto the train. We
got one of
the seating arrangements that sits four people around a
fold-able table.
The table proved to be quite handy for games of travel
scrabble. I was
only able to win a game after the bottomless booze had
disarmed Jen
and Tyla. I still can't believe she was able to play
aioli
after a few glasses of wine.
Saturday was a mad scramble to find housing. We grabbed the
Gazette
and
started sifting through the rental section. We applied the
usual
filters. Apartments must be in downtown near transit, the
office(s),
and restaurants. Existing appliances are welcome and
heating
is essential. Would you believe they advertise apartments
without
heating in Montreal? I guess Yeti have to live somewhere.
We started making phone calls and managed to schedule a few
walkthroughs
that afternoon. While
the
boys were messing about with maps and
newspapers and such,
the
girls
had the good sense to have a quick nap.
If only we had a camera; the cutesy quotient was through the
roof.
The first apartment we walked through wasn't bad at
all. It
had a nice
terrace and had been well painted by the previous tenants.
The second place we saw was just amazing. On the fourth
floor of a townhouse it had exposed brick walls, a nice open
ceiling with rafters, nicely redone hardwood, and a terrace
and
roof-top patio shared with the neighbor. Its located
between St. Denis
and St Laurant near Prince Arthur which makes it a good
fifteen minute walk
from both offices. Quick inspection of the neighborhood
found a nice Thai place within crawling distance. That
settled it.
There was neither sealing nor delivering, but signing took
place.
After a successful afternoon of apartment hunting we
needed
dinner.
We met
Adam at
Queue de Cheval. Our waiter, Jacques (honest),
was a pleasant mix of efficiency and outright silliness.
The food was
great; the sauce that surrounded the spring rolls had a
healthy bite to it
and the garlic roasted mashed potatoes were butterlicious.
Predictably,
I had the salmon. I can't help that I grew up on the
Wilamette.
So yes, most of you have probably figured it out. All
this
time spent
in Montreal is not by accident. I've accepted the
Dream Job from
Zero Knowledge Systems and start on April first. I'm
going to
miss the
red
hat crew terribly, but I have to go kick some
internet-privacy ass.
I'm typing this on the the train back to Toronto.
Completing
our four-seater this time is our new actress friend
who recommended some fabulous furniture shops in Montreal.
We just finished
the chocolate mousse deserts that punctuated the pasta salad
and mass quantities of meat. We're somewhere in southern
Ontario passing through
a recently snow-dusted countryside under a blue sky. I'm
going
to take a nap.
Life is good.