RETURN TO MONTRÉAL


Butterman's return home trek

Getting The ButterCosa Back To Mtl.

The Return Back Home

Friday Morning, 5:50 a. m.
Before going to sleep, Todd and I both agreed to wake up at 5 to 6am, simply to make certain I would be on time for my 7:30am train from the London station to Toronto, and then from TO to Mtl (Montreal). So, both he and I set up our respective alarms to 5 to 6am; him on his alarm clock, and me with my wrist watch. I hope he and his girlfriend didn't hear me snore during the 3 or so hours of sleep I was able to catch on their couch!

My watch's alarm wakes me up like a firecracker in ChinaTown. I quickly jump to my feet, and roll up my sleeping bag into its compression bag. As I was stuffing my compression bag into the backpack I had brought for my trek (it belongs to none other than Gwen), I noticed it was still pretty dark outside. I looked back at my watch to notice it was only 6AM! Looks like I set up my alarm an hour earlier, by mistake! What should I do? I had one full hour before Todd would be waking up, and my sleeping bag was already packed tight, so I decided to to absolutly nothing! I brushed my teeth for what seemed to be half an hour, and then just relaxed on the couch reading one of Todd's back issue magazines on " The Thing". Before long, Todd's alarm clock was screaming across the appartment, and he emerged from his room blurry-eyed but all smile. "Ready to go?" he asked as I was putting on my packpack.

He brought me to the London train station where I tried to give him some $$$ for his incredible hospitality, but he refused. I only insisted so much, after all money is a tough thing to come by these days! We parted ways, and while the THING-Fest 2001 was now over, my long, long, LONG trek back home was only beginning

Waiting For The Train To Come
I noticed there was close to nobody in the station. A few families, a few cute blonde girls, a few older-folks... So I found myself a nice, quiet, remote seat right next to the doors that lead to the outside embarking area. Well wouldn't you know that, before long, tons and tons of people (including the cute blondes and more!) began forming a line behind me! By the time the train arrived, and we were about to board, the line went far to the very end of the train station. I wonder is that was normal or if I was responsible for getting all these people up to stand in line...

Being the very first in line, I was obviously to be the first in the train, right? Wrong: an older blonde woman decided she deserved first dibs on seats before ANYone, including the big fat Butterman who's been waiting in line for about one hour... Usually, I would point out to her the error and illogical course of action she was taking, but I was literally exhausted at that point: All I really wanted was a shower and a bed. Being in a train, I had to settle for a seat.

The Long Ride Begings... Again (part 3 of 4)
Upon boarding the train, I immediatly unpacked my pillow and sat in the same seat I did while coming down to London, Ontario. I think I must have passed out because all I remember is hearing many english voices, mostly children (???), and when I opened my eyes to put on my shades (early morning sun can be slightly annoying for the eyes!), a woman was sitting next to me, and the train compartment was completelly filled up!

This is the funny part. The majority of the "passengers" on board were 1 to 10 year old kids! Contrary to most who'd think this was some kind of organised trip of some sort, it was nothing more than a bunch of families with their many, many kids. Usually, I would have begged for a Silence 15' Radius spell to be able to sleep in quiet silence, but I must have been in really bad shape since I remember sleeping through most of the ride, oblivious to the majority of the children's screams and cries.

Usually a whisper from across the street will wake me up, but in this case, my body was too tired to notice the myriad of child noises. I slept through most of the 2 hour ride to Toronto, waking up maybe 15 minutes before we arrived at the Union station. I packed up my pillow and made my way to the waiting area for my other train. The Transfer At Toronto
The first thing I did when I left the train was take a mental note where it was I was supposed to go next. The train's "clerk" (for lack of a better word!) told me to come back to the same train! I also noticed that they didn't ask for my ticket on the way. Maybe they just didn't want to wake me up while I was comfortably enjoying the sleep on the ride.

So I left the train and went hunting for a food place. I remembered that, on my way to London from the Toronto Union station, a teen guy brought on board some McDonald's, so I figured one of those restaurants must be in the area. I didn't want to lose too much time, so I settled for a Burger King, which still served breakfast. This was good; I was starving again! I grabbed my food and headed towards to the loading docks.

I stopped at a magazine stand. I wanted to buy the latest TIME magazine, which had a feature on the recent Shark Attacks in the USA; attacks by the BullShark, no less, who is becoming one of the most feared sharks in the sea, giving the Great White a run for his money! The Asian lady behind the counter told me they were sold out of TIME magazine. So I bought two of those typical men's mags: MAXIM, which had an interview with Helena Bonham Carter, hot off the shooting of Tim Burton's new interpretation of Planet Of The Apes (she plays a chimpanze), as well as an article on testing one's sexual knowledge. The other magazine was something called FHM, which caught my eye with their very revealing cover and title: The Women Of Sci-Fi. I like babes, which man doesn't? I like Sci-Fi, thanks to my wifey Gwen. Add to those two winning elements another article on how to be a better sex partner, and I was sold! $13 for 2 magazines... not very cheap, is it?

So with food and... ahem... reading material, I went back to the train I was in a mere 15 minutes earlier. The only other people already on board was a three-unit family, sitting in the far end of the cart. I ate my breakfast, and began unpacking my pillow, my walkman, and extra tapes for the long ride home. When I saw people beginning to board, I decided I should switch places before it was too late! It was getting noisier and noisier... girls' giggles and voices, moslty. I opened my slumbering eyes and saw not one, but 2 groups of 20+ young teen girls! I think it must have been some kind or organised trip or sorts, because the batch with the younger girls were all wearing red T- Shirts. The other gang, which looked like mid-to-late high schoolers, spoke french and kept talking about boys and getting down to Quebec. It's a good thing I don't go for young girls or I would have wet my pants/cream my jeans, if you know what I'm saying!

The Long Ride Continues (part 4 of 4)
Trying to sleep through 7 hours of giggling female teens was next to impossible. I plugged myself some

Panasonic and Sonar on my walkman, but that didn't really work either. What really got to me was their language. I can see now, being 30 and all, how the younger generations really differ from us simply by listening to how they communicate. These girls were using the word " full" as an adjectif in front of EVERYthing they said. For example, they said stuff like : "Y'etait full cute!", " Ch'tais full fru(strer)", and "Chu full plein". To be honest, I just don't "get" this new language. My sister-in-law (Gwen's sister Catherine) also uses the word "full" as an adjective for anything at all, but she does realise that Gwen and I come from a different breed of people who like to use the spoken languages in their original form, not conforming the what the hip cool 90s have dictated to the world.

Finally, a few minutes after 17:00 (5PM), the train arrived at the Montreal Bonaventure station, where everyone got off. Most of these tourists were taking another train, but I was just happy to be back in my town... well, close to my town, anyway!

This particular portion of my train trek was the longest one. I barely slept at all, and couldn't "lose" myself in reading. I was aching for a shower and a proper bed to lie down in, so every position I tried to pass out with did not work. It was a long, long, ride back home.

Butterman Back Home... About Time.
So ends my 40 or so hour trek to and from London to view THE THING on the "big screen", for the very first time in my life. It was well worth the small fortune I spent on the train tickets and the discomfort of just not being in your own stuff for 2 or so days. I would gladly do it again, and judging by the quiet success of Todd's THING-Fest 2001, I think I will have the chance to do so again. Next time, I'll try to get my 1/2 brother Dave to come, as well as try to coax wifey Gwen to join us as well!

The THING-FEST 2001 evening

going down to the THING-Fest/The getting there trek!

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