After faffing on about Montreal’s traffic and frenchness last time, it’s probably right that this time I tell you what happened there.
Somehow I timed my arrival with the very beginnings of the Montreal Fringe Festival. Well a few days earlier to be perfectly truthful.
Emboldened by the excellent performance in Stratford I figured it would be good idea to check out a few shows.
Choosing what to see was somewhat limited to what was on – given the festival didn’t start properly for a few days, there were limited options – preshows etc.
Fringe is the appropriate description for what I saw.
First up was Bedrock Burlesque – a parody of the Flintstones with a true burlesque undercurrent. Tassles, long gloves being removed with teeth, stripping seductively but no actual nudity as is burlesque’s tradition, but plenty of titillation. I’d never seen tassles twirled in opposite directions at the same time before. Not a skill easily mastered I assume.
Certainly it was a different event, though quite enjoyable. The unexpected highlight was the Aussie girl in the ticketing booth – what are the chances of 2 Aussies randomly meeting in a burlesque bar in Montreal ?
Next was The lady and the Leg. I went not knowing what to expect. Certainly it wasn’t sitting at a dinner table on an outdoor patio watching one woman play 5 different parts in a murder mystery. A mix of improv and audience participation the performance was highlighted by the fact that the “event” the murder was placed in was my wedding ceremony and celebration.
So that’s the reason I remain unwed.
There was not much else that roused my interest over the next few days. Well not at the Fringe festival.
However I stumbled upon an ad for Women’s Roller Derby. $10 bucks to go check out a A double header with Tampa Bay? I couldn’t sign up fast enough!
With my exposure to Roller derby being limited to The ALLTIME classic Rollerball, and a few ESPN clips of women in dazzling costumes skating around on an incline rink, in what was more a Harlem Globetrotters type entertainment than real sport back in the 80s, I really didn’t know what to expect.
Held in what appeared to be an unfrozen ice hockey arena, there was a real community feel – players man the bar selling Pabst for $3 a can, they have a popcorn stand, there are tables with t-shirts and caps and other paraphernalia. This is a self funded endeavour.
There was a fairly sizeable crowd – at least a good few hundred. As the girls started warming up, I figured I should at least get an idea for the rules. Wikipedia was my friend, and after a few minutes of reading, words such as “jammer”, “pivot” and “blocker” had new meanings.
Once the first jam started it took very little time to transform that reading into an understanding of what was going on. A tactical sport, the overarching principle is to accumulate points for every member of the opposition you pass as you skate around a fairly tight track. It’s predominantly a conservative sport – points are quickly banked by the leading jammer – prevailing wisdom seemed to be to bag your points and then stop the jam before the opposition get a chance to score anything.
Not that that might mean much to you.
As the match progressed, I slowly became a fan. It’s simple but intriguing, very athletic but able to be played by all shapes and sizes. It is physical without being violent (contact by hands, elbows, head, and feet are prohibited, as is contact above the shoulders or below mid-thigh. Also contact may not be from the rear, just the front or side). Strength succeeds as much as agility or speed.
Moreover it is a particularly friendly and respectful sport. No arguments with umpires, no dissent. Pre and post match rounds of high 5s to the opposition are given with much enthusiasm – there is a shared love of the sport that shines through. If I had daughters I’d encourage them to join.
A thoroughly entertaining experience, though the local 2nd fourteen lost after leading by more than 30 points at halftime. The seniors had better luck so it was a win for everyone. Given the distance from Tampa to Montreal no-one would begrudge the visitors going home with something.
Before the match
The game in action
The rest of my time in Montreal was squandered on the Canadian Grand Prix, Euro 2016, dining, drinking and relaxing around in parks.
Oh and miserably failing at avoiding parking fines.
In nearly 8 months I hadn’t even been pulled over once, and I was fastidious about paying for parking, respecting road rules, not speeding.
In the space of 3 days I got 3 separate fines –
- The first because I thought the max amount payable would take me to the what I assumed was the end of the parking period (6 pm) when it in fact ended at 7pm. My bad. Cop that on the chin.
- After having overnighted in this car park near the Roller derby arena successfully before, I found myself with a ticket for being on the wrong side of the carpark, avoiding the morning sun, where special permits where required in addition to having paid the daily rate. The car park holds 20 cars so it wasn’t something I could reasonably expect, and given signs are only in french, even if I looked for it I wouldn’t have understood the restriction. Should I challenge?
- Finally I got a ticket at 8 am for being parked on the road where the parking restrictions don’t start until 9 am. Seriously WTF? Surely this can be dismissed, though the effort to send all the evidence in will be a pain.
Overall Montreal was a blast. Plenty of fun, lots of new experiences, plenty of adjusting (which is actually a good thing).
Roll on Quebec City
