The winter air in Montreal had been colder than ever this week. Cindy and I had errands to run around town, which meant braving the sharp clutches of the almighty cold. Every exhale was a spear of white frosted air, our noses were frozen with crystals of frozen snot, and my breath condensed into icicles … More Visiting Costa Rice to escape winter
It was unseasonably warm at the start of the week, as temperatures soared to as high as zero degrees Celsius. It’s getting mighty cold again now as winter bites back with a vengeance, but for a short time, most of the snow that captured my imagination when I first arrived had melted.
For about 6 months I’ve been trying to learn French. If you know me, or read my blog from time to time, you’ll know that my girlfriend Cindy is French, and from the beginning of our time together I’ve always wanted to have a conversation with her in her native language.
It was bloody cold on my first night in Montreal, something like minus fifteen Celcius. It was almost 10pm as I wandered in circles looking for my hotel in the Latin quarter, still awake with pizza restaurants and jazz bars. I was lost.
Matt walked through the freshly painted red doorway, stooping as he entered. He breathed out the dry winter air and gave a harsh cough, brushed the snow off his jacket, and stood in the doorway.