I donated a lot of goats today.

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Google’s Street View finally made it to Montreal.

This is our street.

And the photo above is the origin of Montreal.

It’s the point where Google did start and stop. Note that the view at this point is from a parked car, and not from a driving car. If you move back, the cars, the weather and everything else is different than if you move forward.

I made a photo of the Google Street View camera car when it was parked at that spot, but I can’t find it. My best friends live very close to that spot.

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Any idea what these ‘doghouses’ are used for?

Don’t be shy. Fire away in the comments.

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Next to the Montreal General Hospital they are building an addition to the hospital. Or maybe it is just a parking garage, I don’t know. Since this is literally in the mountain they have to remove a lot of rock. When I passed they were just finishing up drilling deep holes in the rock with a giant drill, mounted on a crawling vehicle.

Then the covered the just drilled hole with these big grey mats. Suddenly it dawned to me and my suspicion was confirmed when I saw this sign.

They were going to blast the rock with dynamite, right there before my eyes! Being a Dutchman I’ve never seen any blasting. The only rock we have is the one used by junkies, our soil is sand, mud and clay, so a backhoe will do fine to remove it. This suddenly became very exiting. I asked the guy that waited on the side walk how long it would take before the blast. “Five minutes,” he answered so it was an easy decision to wait.

I had to get off the sidewalk onto the street but managed to get a picture anyway.

(Okay, in reality the blast was not nearly as exiting as this photo suggests. It was only a very muffled boom, and then some dust emerged from the pit. Those protective mats really work.)

After the blast they removed the mats and bulldozers went into the pit to remove the rubble. Then the drilling started again for another cycle. From the daily report that hung over a fence post I learned they did about 25 blasts a day. Preparing a building site in this location sure is a lot of work.

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Anthropomorphism at work.

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I went with a client on a hunt today for a bathtub. He’s quite tall and wants me to make a new, larger bathroom for him, but he has a hard time finding a bathtub that fits his frame, one that is actually big enough for him to lie in.

After visiting a number of stores we both have to pee. But asking “Do you have a bathroom?” in a bathroom store is kind of awkward, and pissing in the showroom toilets is generally frowned upon (apparently it does happen though, at least that’s what I heard). So we head to a Tim Hortons nearby and have a muffin and an orange juice. Coincidentally we order exactly the same muffin and the same kind of juice.

Afterwards we drive the long way home and even though a lot of people are on vacation, there is still a lot of traffic and it takes quite a while. I drop of my client, and when I arrive at home I can’t find my bag. I search the car, but it’s a big red bag and not easily overlooked.

The dogs are barking around me while I try to concentrate and think where I remember I had my bag the last time. I think it was at the Tim Hortons. I get the Yellow Pages, but can’t find them. Wait, the internet! But on the Tim Hortons website there is no restaurant finder. Canada411.ca. No Tim Hortons in Montréal on that street. O wait, Pierrefonds is de-merged and is a separate municipality now. Yes, there it is, in the long list of telephone numbers. I call the number and start talking to the woman who picks up in English. They all speak English in the West-Island so I’m surprised when she asks “French, please?”. I repeat my question (”Have you found my bag?”) in French, she goes to look in the place I tell her I was seating and then she comes back: “Non monsieur, votre sac n’est pas là…”

Fuck.

It now really dawns to me. I lost my bag. My really nice red bag. With my camera in it, and my cigars. And my brand new MacBook Pro laptop.
I thank the woman for watching and give her my phone number just in case. Just before I hang up I ask if there are any other Tim Hortons in Pierrefonds? She answers me that she’s not in Pierrefonds but in Côte de Lièsse. OMG. I called the wrong restaurant! Yes, it is the telephone number just below the one we visited. I get new hope. It’s not even an hour ago since we left. I call again, making sure to call the right number this time.

Unfortunately my hope proved futile. My bag hadn’t been found. I call all the bathroom stores we went to, one at the time. No luck.

Shit.

I call Alison and she has no idea what to say to cheer me up.

I hang up, and I don’t know what to do. I haven’t even paid off my credit card bill of the new laptop and I already lost it. Visa will be happy. Then I remember that my bank just recently upgraded me to a new credit card that included an extended warranty or something. I frantically try to find the leaflet that came with it. Yeah, there it says: “The Purchase Security Plan protects most purchases made with the card for ninety (90) days from purchase.” I quickly try to find the line that says what is meant with that word most. I’m sure I will find a line saying that “computers are excluded”. But there is no such line. I call the toll-free number, and someone takes my card number, address and the value of the item I lost. Thanks to Apple’s online invoices I can still find that information. She’ll send me a form that I’ll have to complete. Wow.

For the first time in an hour I can sit and calm down a bit. There is a possibility I didn’t lose a huge pile of money, but just some.

I eat a cracker with cheese and try to recall what I’ve lost, what haven’t I backed up yet.
Some photos, obviously. But for the rest I just lost the changes I made today and last night to the drawings of my client’s bathroom. Just a couple of hours to re-create those, so that’s not too bad. A good thing I worked on woodworking projects the past week and that I make regular backups. But not daily, even though I bought a new hard drive just for that purpose. But I haven’t had time to set it up yet.

I even manage to look at it from the bright side: I now have an excuse to replace my 6 year old camera.

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An hour later the phone rang.
“Um, is this the person who lost his bag?”
My heart skipped two beats. “Yeah?”
“We’ve found it.”
I almost started to sob. I asked her until when she worked (”until ten”), called Alison with the good news and jumped, high on adrenaline, in the car.

First I drove to a cinema and then the whole 35 kilometres back to the Tim Hortons in Pierrefonds.

I gave all people working a cinema gift certificate (Not all of them could pose for this picture). They were happy and surprised about my generosity. I felt good because giving away things is fun. I still don’t know what exactly happened and why it took so long to find a bright red bag in an almost empty Tim Hortons but I don’t really care. Everything is still in the bag, and it doesn’t seem that anybody touched my computer since the same application is still active when I wake it up from sleep-mode.

Having it back saves me a lot of time and stress not having to recover files from backups and re-create stuff that I made today and yesterday on a current project that I hadn’t backed up yet… That is well worth the reward.

It’s funny how happy you can be with something you had a couple of hours ago that wasn’t particular special at that time.

Just losing things makes you realize how much you care about certain things. Maybe I should lose things more often. But I almost never lose things. Fortunately.

I have my camera back so I don’t have to buy a new one. And my bag! And my cigars, water-bottle and my dropjes! O… and my MacBook Pro too of course.

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[I'm too lazy to translate this. Try

for a computer translation.]

11 September, een dag om terug te kijken. Naar 11 September 2001 toen ik in Toronto in het appartement van Dolph en Mansa, die op huwelijksreis waren, al de gebeurtenissen live op de Amerikaanse TV aanschouwde, maar ook naar 11 September 2003 toen ik officieel ‘landde’ in Canada. Een jaar hier alweer; het lijkt zoveel korter.

Zonder 11 September 2001 was ik hier waarschijnlijk nooit geweest. Want door de aanslagen in New York verkeerde ook Toronto zich weken in een staat van shock. En ik ook, want ik had niemand om de verschrikkingen mee te delen. Bovendien werden al mijn afspraken met mogelijke opdrachtgevers geannuleerd en begon ik Toronto nog vervelender te vinden dan ik al deed. Dus besloot ik om Canada vaarwel te zeggen en terug te gaan naar Nederland. Het was gewoon niet de goede periode. Dolph haalde me echter over om voordat ik terugvloog nog even langs Montréal te gaan, om te ervaren hoe die stad was. En ik liet me overhalen en reisde per trein met mijn veel te veel bagage naar Montréal. Aldaar aangekomen was de sfeer zo anders dan in Toronto dat ik besloot een maandje te blijven om er uiteindelijk zelfs bijna twee maanden te verblijven. Via iemand die ik ontmoette tijdens mijn twee bijna slapeloze nachten in een jeugdherberg vond ik een kamer die je per maand kon huren. Ik installeerde telefoon, nam een Internet abonnement en probeerde te ervaren hoe het was om te leven in Montréal, niet als een toerist maar als een inwoner. Zonder 11 September had ik dat allemaal waarschijnlijk niet gedaan. Het was voor een deel een reactie op mijn niet al te fijne tijd in Toronto. En natuurlijk ook omdat Montréal een heel andere stad is en een verademing vergeleken met de bekrompen, amerikaanse mentaliteit van Toronto.

Tijdens mijn (lange) omzwervingen op Internet kwam ik Alison tegen en het resultaat is dat ik nu al weer een jaar officieel in Montréal woon, getrouwd ben en twee kinderen heb.

Alhoewel ik al een jaar hier ben loopt mijn leven nog niet echt op rolletjes. Ik weet niet of een leven op rolletjes überhaupt wel iets voor mij is, maar dat terzijde. Ik weet niet wat ik wil qua werk en heb daarom ook nauwelijks wat gedaan om werk te vinden. Ik mis mijn uitgebreide vriendenkring in nederland want hoewel ik wel al vrij veel kennissen heb, heb ik nog nauwelijks vrienden hier. En dat is lastig in tijden van crisis. En ik heb ook nog geen dokter terwijl ik die eigenlijk zou moeten bezoeken, wegens niet vanzelf overgaande pijn in mijn gewrichten.

En ik ben ook helemaal niet tevreden over dit weblog. Het is teveel een toeristisch album, met een plaatje bij een praatje. Dus ga ik hier binnenkort de boel omgooien. Ten eerste ga ik voortaan voornamelijk in het Engels schrijven. Not because my English is better, far from that, but because I often can only find English expressions when I write this log. I speak the whole day english, read English, watch English movies and it’s hard to suddely switch to Dutch when I’m not communicating with someone. I’ve no problem spealing Dutch on the phone, or replying someone’s email in Dutch, but for some reason I have a really hard time writing this log in Dutch. Another reason to change the language is that now my weblog is only understandable for people I already know, but who are far away. And because that audience is so broad, consisting of friends, family and acquaintances, I never show the back of my tongue, and most entries stay rather superficial. If I write in English it might be a tool to meet new people here, and that is important. The current form is also too rigid, and often I don’t write things because I don’t have a picture, or because I’m too lazy to transfer it from my camera, crop it and publish it.

So things are going to change here in the coming weeks. I hope for the better, but of course not everybody will agree with me.

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[I'm too lazy to translate this. Try

for a computer translation.]

Vanochtend kreeg ik een kadootje: een T-shirt van de film “American Splendor” dat ik heb gewonnen op de website van Zone 5300. Ik win nooit wat, maar nu dus wel. En bijgevoegd was ook nog een exemplaar van dit wondermooie tijdschrift, dat al 10 jaar het hoofd boven water weet te houden.

De hoofdredacteur heeft mijn oude atelier overgenomen, maar ik had meegedaan onder pseudoniem, dus het was geen doorgestoken kaart. De financiële aderlating om dat T-shirt helemaal naar Canada te moeten sturen moet vreselijk groot zijn geweest. Mea culpa.

Rechts op deze foto, gemaakt in de metro, zie je het eiland waar Montréal op ligt. Van oostpunt tot westpunt is het zo’n 50 km lang. In werkelijkheid ligt die oostpunt in het noord-oosten, maar dat is een detail.

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