Motivated by my resolution to see more of the festivals and events in Montreal, I went to see another festival last week.
A friend and I had arranged to meet up last Thursday, a couple of days beforehand I came across the website for the 'Montréal Complètement Cirque'. A circus festival! There were numerous events to choose from, but most were scheduled for the evening. I did howver find a performance for the afternoon so texted her the link asking if she wanted to go. Once I had hit the 'send' button however, I then read it in a little more in depth and realized to my - it turned out to be our - horror it didn't involve watching the performers, but getting involved on tightropes ourselves.
We soon scrapped that idea.
There was something else 'circusy' on in the morning and, from what we could tell from the very brief information (it was in French, of course), it involved watching rather than participating.
As we wondered along from the metro to the park where the event was being held, chatting away, we kept meeting groups of toddlers being taken for their walk in the bright morning sunshine. It must be the area for childcare/nurseries.
As we got nearer to the park, the number of children we passed grew. We had never seen so many under 5's in one neighbourhood!We reached the park, and the performance.
Oh.
A friend and I had arranged to meet up last Thursday, a couple of days beforehand I came across the website for the 'Montréal Complètement Cirque'. A circus festival! There were numerous events to choose from, but most were scheduled for the evening. I did howver find a performance for the afternoon so texted her the link asking if she wanted to go. Once I had hit the 'send' button however, I then read it in a little more in depth and realized to my - it turned out to be our - horror it didn't involve watching the performers, but getting involved on tightropes ourselves.
We soon scrapped that idea.
There was something else 'circusy' on in the morning and, from what we could tell from the very brief information (it was in French, of course), it involved watching rather than participating.
As we wondered along from the metro to the park where the event was being held, chatting away, we kept meeting groups of toddlers being taken for their walk in the bright morning sunshine. It must be the area for childcare/nurseries.
As we got nearer to the park, the number of children we passed grew. We had never seen so many under 5's in one neighbourhood!We reached the park, and the performance.
Oh.
Aside from the adults helping out and looking after the children, the oldest audience member was about six years old....
Yup, we had picked a children's circus event!
Yup, we had picked a children's circus event!
We did our best to act as though we were walking somewhere else and just happened to be passing, and had just happened to stop and have a nosy look at what was going on. We hadn't planned to watch it too, or anything...
As we marched away from the circus performance and all the children, my friend suggested we go to a park nearby she had heard of but never been to called, 'Parc Jarry'.
As we marched away from the circus performance and all the children, my friend suggested we go to a park nearby she had heard of but never been to called, 'Parc Jarry'.
It was a lovely day; the sun was warm, but the air fresh - not all that common recently, when the humidity has been adding another eight degrees onto the temperature. So, we wondered down the streets in a neighbourhood neither of us had ever been to, which was good - I need to do more of that! - it's too easy sometimes, especially when you are tired, to walk the tried and tested routes and not diverge and explore from these safe havens. But then you never see the streets behind this: the little gems lying there overlooked (or the unpleasant streets where you vow never to go back too). Both of which make up the framework of the city you live in.
The park was stunning. It was beautifully kept, with benches and picnic benches dotted around. There was a lake which was teaming with ducks, including a number of tiny ducklings.
I definitely want to go back.
I definitely want to go back.
So no clowns or crazy acrobatics were seen, but we noted a park worthy of return; so, although not the morning we had planned, it was good all the same!
Talking of clowns...
Albie surpassed himself on Sunday.
We let him out on Sunday morning and then went out for coffee. Returning at lunchtime I remarked to T it was strange Albie hadn't come back for his early afternoon nap (a cat of routine, good luck to any one who tries to disrupt it - they are in for a noisy time if they do..).
I went into our bedroom (located at the front of the apartment) and heard him wailing outside. Walking out onto the balcony I peered up and down the street but couldn't see any sign of him, although I could hear him; boy could I hear him...
Eventually I spotted him: he was on the third floor balcony of the building three doors up the street!
Given the awful sound he was making he was clearly trapped up there. T went and knocked on the neighbour's door, but there was no answer. We tried the apartment next door as their balcony touches the balcony Albie was wailing on, but got no answer from there either. The doors onto both the balconies were slightly ajar, so it was clear the inhabitants hadn't gone away on holiday, so we had no choice to wait until they returned. We pinned a note to their front door asking them to just let him out of the back door and he would find his way home.
Meanwhile Albie, having seen T, was getting more and more cross that T wasn't doing anything to help his predicament, and the whole street soon knew our cat was somewhere he shouldn't be.
I went into our bedroom (located at the front of the apartment) and heard him wailing outside. Walking out onto the balcony I peered up and down the street but couldn't see any sign of him, although I could hear him; boy could I hear him...
Eventually I spotted him: he was on the third floor balcony of the building three doors up the street!
Given the awful sound he was making he was clearly trapped up there. T went and knocked on the neighbour's door, but there was no answer. We tried the apartment next door as their balcony touches the balcony Albie was wailing on, but got no answer from there either. The doors onto both the balconies were slightly ajar, so it was clear the inhabitants hadn't gone away on holiday, so we had no choice to wait until they returned. We pinned a note to their front door asking them to just let him out of the back door and he would find his way home.
Meanwhile Albie, having seen T, was getting more and more cross that T wasn't doing anything to help his predicament, and the whole street soon knew our cat was somewhere he shouldn't be.
He screeched and wailed for a couple of hours, and then finally got tired and went to sleep. The street was silent once more.
By 5.30pm, no one had returned to either apartment. I was starting to get worried, as although the balcony was in shade, it was more than thirty-three degrees outside, and I didn't know if the poor boy had access to water. When the church bells rang at 6pm and there was no miaowing; I feared the worst. (He has his supper at 6pm, so rather handily, wherever he is outside he comes racing into the kitchen when he hears the bells.)
Three quarters of an hour later, just as I was stepping out of the back door to see if anyone had returned home, I heard an all-too familiar miaow, and the naughty little explorer came running up the alleyway. He was very pleased to see us and proceeded to tell us - loudly - all about his ordeal for the rest of the evening.
We have no idea how he got there, and are not at all confident he has learnt from his adventure...
We have no idea how he got there, and are not at all confident he has learnt from his adventure...