Stormy Over Montreal

I arrived in Ottawa last night, after three weeks in France. I think it’s my ninth or tenth transatlantic flight—a routine trip now.

Instead of taking the train to Paris and then a direct flight from Roissy CDG, this trip, I decided to fly from Nantes to CDG, and then from CDG to Montreal. It’s easier and it’s about the same price as taking the train these days.

Nantes Atlantique Airport was small (is that why the mayor wants to build a new humongous airport?) and boring but for the people.

The line-up to go through security was interesting, though. Most travelers were flying short and medium haul flights to either other parts of France or sunny destinations like Morocco, Tunisia or Turkey. And each and every one of them had some banned items in their hand luggage! I’m not talking about the odd tube of cream, but bottles of booze, knives, tons of food etc. And they seemed to be completely oblivious of the much-publicized security measures.

It basically went like that for the time I was stuck in the line-up:

(Airport security employee scans bags and pulls them aside.)

“I’m sorry sir, you seem to carry items that are on the prohibited list. May I search your bags?”

“What? What’s prohibited?”

“Well, on the screen, I saw something that looks like a knife…”

“Yeah, it’s my knife. Can’t I take my knife with me?”

“… No sir.”

“Oh great. Now I have to call my wife to see if she can come back and take my knife back home.”

“There also seem to be bottles in your bag.”

(The security guy holds the bag, and you can actually hear glass bottles clinking in there.)

“Yeah?”

“Well, you can’t take liquids beyond this point.”

“But how do I bring my wine?”

Etc. And most passengers had booze with them (and that was before the duty-free shops!). It was actually funny to witness. I know that security checks are a pain and I’m not sure they help much, but come on guys, there were implemented ten years ago now—don’t you have a clue that bringing a knife with you is slightly frown upon?

With such attitude, it took forever for all the passengers to board and I was getting nervous because I only had an hour to transfer in Paris.

By the time we landed at Roissy CDG, I only had 45 minutes left to transfer but I wasn’t panicking because I simply had to go from Terminal 2F to Terminal 2E. I started walking as fast as I could, keeping an eye on the signs. Eventually, after a five-minute walk, I bumped into passport control—or rather a huge line-up to passport control.

Crap. I had forgotten I had to go through passport control.

Some loud Americans behind me started complaining about French inefficiency. I found it funny: I’m the first one to admit French can be extremely slow and inefficient but hey, guys, who came up (and keeps on coming up) with strict security processes? Not to mention that most time, when I go to the U.S., I face even longer line-ups at security checks. So kindly give me a break.

Their group tried to jump the queue but an officer assured them it was only going to take ten minutes to have their passport stamped, and that they would be able to catch their flight.

Twenty minutes later, as I walked out with my passport stamped, I was getting nervous as well. It was well past my boarding time—in fact, my flight was leaving in twenty minutes.

Eventually, I found Terminal 2E and the long line-up to security check. Again.

This time, I asked one of the employees if I could jump the queue.

“No flight leaves in twenty minutes,” she replied curtly.

“Yes, mine does. The AF344 to Montreal? Look, I don’t mind queuing as long as the plane waits for me,” I pleaded.

“Your flight leaves in twenty two minutes, which gives you enough time to go through security.”

Bitch. Moral of the story, unlike in most airport, don’t expect to be able to jump the queue to catch your connection in Paris.

I ran to the boarding gate and barely made it for the final call.

Luckily, I was flying the beautiful Airbus A380, the huge double-decker aircraft and it took a long time for all the passengers (over 500 of them) to board so it was a bit late.

This aircraft is awesome. It’s my second time flying it (first time was in 2011, from Sydney to L.A.) and it has lots of room (even in second class!), good food, a great entertainment system… It’s a very quiet plane too, and it doesn’t feel cramped despite its size.

I spent seven hours watching moving and gazing at the clouds, and it went by relatively fast.

When we arrived in Montreal, we faced a massive line-up to go through immigration: I queued for close to 90 minutes, there had to be at least 200 people in front of me. I wonder why there weren’t more employees working—I mean, considering the size of the A380, it’s common-sense that all the passengers are going to go through immigration control.

Anyway, I’m now in Ottawa. It’s mid-April and it feels like I’ve been traveling since the beginning of the year. Time to… do stuff!

Arriving in Montreal

Arriving in Montreal

Stormy Over Montreal

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Break Out

Against Nuclear Power

« C’est l’homme qui a créé chaque mur, qui s’est barricadé de béton. Aurait-il peur de la nature? » (Men created walls and barricaded themselves behind concrete. Are they scared of nature?)

« On ne veut pas crever, on ne veut pas se laisser faire. Finissons-en avec le nucléaire, l’État et le capitalisme. » (We don’t want to die, we don’t want to be pushed over. End nuclear power, the state and capitalism.)

Enough!

« Traqués, arrêtés, humiliés, enfermés, expulsés… assez! » (Hunted, arrested, humiliated, locked up, deported… enough!)

Capitalist Pig

« On l’engraisse, on l’engraisse… Capitalisme, on le bouffe quand? » (We feed it, we feed it… capitalism, when do we get to eat it?)

People’s Feeling

« Émotion populaire » (People’s feeling)

Big Brother Is watching You

« Surveillés, fliqués, enfermés, ils sont Vichy! Soyons pirates. » (Monitored, watched, locked up… they are Vichy [the French government that collaborated with Hitler]. Let’s be pirates!)

Occupy

“Squat, réappropriation, grève des loyers… ne laissons pas le quartier aux riches! » (Occupy, repossess, rent strike… don’t leave your district to rich people!)

Big Brother

“L’état nous observe : crevons-nous les yeux! » (The State is watching you. Blind it!)

Get Lost

« Promoteur, urbaniste, flic… dégage! » (Property developers, city planners, cops… get lost!)

Don’t Be A Slave

« La démocratie est une galère. Ne choisissons pas nos maîtres, renversons le système! » (Democracy is hell. Don’t choose your master, overthrow the system!)

Rich Life

« On veut une vie riche, pas une vie de riche! » (We want to live a fulfilling life, but we don’t want to live like rich people!)

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As kids, we used to beg our parents to take us to the windy and dusty boulevard where the fun fair was set up. As tweens, we could usually hang out there without our parents, and it made us feel like grown-ups.  We played the “dare game” and tried the fastest, highest and scariest attractions (hint: always eat cotton candy afterwards).

When I came to Ottawa, I was very surprised to see that the concept of the annual SuperEX was very different. First, ground admission isn’t free like in France—it’s actually rather pricey ($12 for adult admission and $40 for all-you-can-ride!). You don’t get much for the admission price, and I found the SuperEX to be a money-grab.

Rides aren’t cheap either in France (between €2–5 this year), but at least admission is free and you can have a good time people-watching!

The Fun Fair

Entering The Fair

At The Fair

Jumping

Up In the Air

The “Shaker”

Stuffed Animals

Ferris Wheel

Roller Coaster

Fast Attraction

Fast Attraction

Cotton Candy

Slurpee

Ice Cream

Win A Stuffed Animal

Win A Stuffed Animal

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From the crooked buildings quai de la Fosse, you can see the Loire River, the massive brand new courthouse, the Île de Nantes (and its mechanical wooden elephant), the Titan Crane (left as a reminder of the chantiers Dubigeons, the shipyards). A number of historical ships are docked there, including the trois-mâts Belem (a 19^th century merchant ship) and the Maillé-Brézé (a destroyer of the French Navy). This is also where the Memorial to the Abolition of Slavery was built.

I grew up quai de la Fosse, and then moved a block away when I was a kid. It remains one of my favourite places to hangout. Funny enough, the bourgeois of Nantes dislike the area and would rather gather on the infamous “Boulevard Guist’hau” (a rather dark and windy boulevard with almost no shops around) or in the Cours Cambronne (equally windy and dusty).

Bridge to the Courthouse

Quai de la Fosse and the Trois-Mats Belem Boat

Isle of Nantes

The Buren Rings

Along the River

Along the River

The Titan Crane and the Isle of Nantes

The Machines de Nantes

The Maillé-Brézé Boat and The Titan Crane

The Maillé-Brézé Boat and The Titan Crane

The Isle of Nantes

By The River

Old Door To Nowhere

The Tip of The Isle of Nantes

Sign Fail, Nice Helicopter!

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My Brand New Carte d’Électeur

Even though I haven’t lived in France in ten years and even though I’m registered as a “French abroad”, I still received a carte d’électeur at my parents’ address to vote for this year’s presidential election. So technically, I guess I can vote twice. Ahem… election fraud, anyone?

Packed Terrace

When on earth are French working? Bars and cafés always seem packed during the day! And I still can’t believe people drink alcohol anytime during daytime as well. It’s weird to see people go shopping for clothes a can of beer in their hand.

Musician in the Street

There are a lot of panhandlers in the streets. The most persistent are the organised groups from Eastern Europe and the drunken punks with their dogs.

“Nuit” (Night in French)

Bars are supposed to close at 1 a.m. or 2 a.m., and technically, nightclubs close around 4 a.m. (it depends on the city). In Nantes, noise disturbance is a huge issue, as people start to party on Thursday and don’t stop until Sunday night. People seem to spend their night getting drunk, shouting and yelling in the street, and there is no one to stop them.

Running After The Tramway

Even though the ticket is getting expensive, I still love the tramway. Nantes has a pretty good public transportation system and riding the tramway is smooth and efficient. I know it won’t happen in Ottawa (I doubt the tracks could stand winter) but I wish we had a similar system over there!

Park in Nantes

French public parks look lame compared to the ones in Canada. They are usually hangouts for drunks and are pretty dirty. Not to mention that dogs poop everywhere here, and that people don’t clean after their pets.

Shoe Tossing

Shoe tossing was apparently introduced in Nantes. Do they say “le shoe tossing” or “la shoe tossing?”

Chocolate Maker Shop in Nantes

Window-shopping takes a whole different meaning here. Stores window displays, especially those from independent stores, are often elaborated and very pleasant aesthetically-speaking.

Kebab in Nantes

French really love “kebabs” (shawarmas in Canada). There are just about everywhere!

I finally remembered this week that in France, unlike in Canada, the VAT is included in the price and that I could prepare my change beforehand.

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In the 2004 novel “A Year in the Merde”, an Englishman is sent to Paris to set up a chain of tea rooms in France. At the beginning of the book, the British guy tries to explain his French team that “My Tea Is Rich” is not a good name for a chain of English tea rooms.

The French stand their ground against the crazy Englishman and argue the name chosen is perfect, because it plays on the first sentence of an Assimil English course and is, for French people, “a typical English expression”. Obviously, the Englishman doesn’t get it and claims it just doesn’t mean anything in English.

And he is right.

That’s how I feel when I see creative use of English in France.

For instance, a new mini-chain recently opened in Nantes. The name? “Thai in Box”. The first time, I saw it, I did a double-take. I’m familiar with the “noodle in a box” or “noodle box” concept, but let’s face it: “Thai in Box” is pretty bad English. I get it. Yet the name of the franchise is not grammatically correct and you’d think this is the kind of detail they’d checked before using it for a store.

Fortunately, most French won’t even notice and will happily eat overpriced pad thai in a box.

The way French pepper their conversation with English words drives me crazy, especially considering they generally do not use foreign words properly.

For instance, Monoprix’s store card encourages customers to collect bonus points named “S’Miles”. A creative neologism mixing “smile” and “mile”? Maybe. It guess it’s just meant to sound cool since most French don’t get the neologism anyway.

Quick, the national fast food chain, launched an online game called “le goût de la win”. When I first saw the promotion, I had no clue what it was, but apparently players can collect “wins” (bonus points?) when playing online. Why is “win” a feminine noun? No idea.

The way Québécois (or rather the Office québécois de la langue française) translate just about everything that sounds foreign can drive me crazy too. It will never be natural for me to call “KFC” “PKF” (for Poulet frit Kentucky) and I say “Bostonne”—not “Bos-ton”.

Yet, hearing and seeing the way French torture the English language is painful (and funny). From the “menu Best Of” at Mcdonald’s (supersized combos) to “la box” (the ADSL modem provided by Free), I sometimes wonder about French to English translator job opportunities in France!

(I also make mistake in English. And in French. I know. I just like to think mine aren’t as funny.)

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The list is long.

As kids in France, we had the weight of history on our shoulders. French strongly believe that “Those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it” and guilt was drilled into us.

We ought to remember to atrocities of the past, but when can we move on? Do we remember these events because we still feel guilty about them or because we feel we have to? Ideally, the main idea is to ensure that generations never forget the fatal consequences of fanaticism, fascism, racism, etc. But hey, after all, these generations aren’t responsible for events that happened fifty, sixty, a hundred years ago.

It’s important to give proper recognition to a variety of events, positive of negative for a nation, but where do we draw the line? The perception of most of these historical events is still subjective. For instance, France as a nation still has issues talking about the decolonisation war in Algeria. We know we were the bad guys here, but we have trouble to accept it.

Sometimes, it’s not that easy to accept the responsibility to remember.

Last week, Nantes inaugurated a brand new memorial to the abolition of slavery.

The city doesn’t have a glorious past: Nantes was the slave trade capital of France, and that’s how it became the largest port in France and a wealthy city. In the 18^th century and well into the 19^th, Nantes alone launched about 1,800 expeditions to buy African captives, hauling more than 500,000 men and women to the New World. Slave ships from this port frequently sold their human cargo in Haiti, where plantation owners were often from Nantes, but also in the Caribbean and on the Louisiana coast.

The city now wants to confront its past, hence the construction of the memorial. Not so long ago, history books glossed over the role of France in the slave trade, and in Nantes, prominent local families, including descendants of the slavers, simply avoided the topic altogether.

Much easier this way, isn’t it?

Yet I was surprised to see very little linked the memorial directly to the city. The upper part of it is a long esplanade, with the name of the 1,800 boats that carried the slaves to their sad destiny. Below, at river-level, is a underground tunnel full of quotes and texts around human rights.

But where is the role of Nantes explained?

To me, it looks like the city is trying to face its past, but it’s not exactly there yet.

Memorial to the Abolition of Slavery

Memorial to the Abolition of Slavery

Memorial to the Abolition of Slavery

Memorial to the Abolition of Slavery

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Yesterday afternoon, I smelled smoke in the street but I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. But today, when I went grocery shopping in the morning, I realized most streets a block away from my parents’ place were blocked with dozens of fire trucks, and that firefighters were working hard.

I don’t read local news and I was the only one puzzled (and half-asleep) in the crowd of bystanders. Apparently, a fire in a restaurant had started on Sunday and was still going strong. Add to that the fact that the restaurant was in a semi-underground mall between to pedestrian streets and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

Thankfully, there were no victims but the streets are still blocked a day later and the fire isn’t completely contained yet.

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

Fire in Nantes

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But this Saturday was the annual “braderie” (street market) in Nantes—an exception to the rule.

In the downtown core, local vendors put up stands outside of their shops and they were joined by hundreds of “outsiders” such as food stalls and market vendors. The streets were so packed you could barely move.

Unfortunately, I didn’t find any good bargains. French fashion may be world-famous but you won’t find affordable Chanel or Dior clothes in local stores. Most vendors offered pricey “made in China” summer dresses, t-shirts and jeans or cheap make-up, much like in any other market.

One thing I noticed in France is that the notion of “personal space” is very different from North America. In Canada, people barely touch each other and if they do, they apologize profusely. In Nantes, people seem to enjoy bumping into each other. “If French drive like they walk,” I told my mum, “I understand why there are so many traffic accidents!”

The fact that pretty much everyone was drinking something (because you really need a beer when you go shopping for clothes, right?) probably wasn’t helping. I still can’t get over how much French drink!

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

Street Market in Nantes

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I took a long walk to the Île de Versailles, a small island on the River Erdre. The place is modeled after a Japanese garden, and dotted with patches of bamboo, rhododendrons and bonsai trees.

It’s a great place to get a “out of the city” feel, even though it’s tiny and can be crowded on nice days. I love seeing trees in bloom—the landscape was still very winter-y ten days ago in Canada!

In Bloom

Crossing The Pond

The Erdre

Reading Under The Shade

In Bloom

Japonese Garden

The Erdre

The Erdre

The Erdre

On The Bridge

Under The Bridge

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