The theme for our latest production was a "French" film. We couldn't bring along all of our safety equipment because the terrorists made airplane travel uptight. Let's just say I didn't feel like keeping it warm. We went to the local bike establishment and got a couple of Norco Rideaus and hit the bricks.
Montreal is an excellent place to conduct urban bicycle assault exercises. Bike paths go everywhere, but keep your wits about you. There are literally a million people of every stripe on bicycles. We checked out a bunch of places and window shopped a bit. Layla got a haircut. We dropped into Provigo on Avenue Mont Royal and then thus espied a 950 mL can of Labatt's Bleue Dry. Biere forte and in large amounts. I had a vision: climb to the top of Mont Royal Park and down one of those badboys.
and the obligatory sightseeing overlook. Layla's coiffeure novel. You can almost make out the Eiffel Tower in the background.
The chalet at the top is b!tchin. Very cool architecture. Be sure to check in with the squirrels. We rode to the highest point we could find, which was a radio tower. Too many people there. What there was right there was this killer little singletrack
that led to the bench.
While Layla was getting her haircut, I rode around the neighborhood and saw this churchyard where they were stacking wood and putting out steel barrels cut in half. My barbeque meter began to quiver. After our soiree into the park, I suggested checking it out. Sure enough, they were selling fencing rapiers with chunks of beef and wood cooked bread (Bolo de caco) and used liter soda bottles of wine.
The fire scene was a little crazy. The smoke was intense. Homey was swinging around an eight foot 2X4, or its metric equivalent, to tend to the fire, and I declined the helmet at the bike shop.
These people turned out to be Portugese people from the island of Madeira. It was a cool party, and we met some nice people.
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Thread: Cela est comment nous roulons.