Montréal Metro Station
It's been a year, then.
I stepped down off the bus from Toronto into Montréal just as Nuit Blanche was winding down. Though I missed all the festivities, I did take advantage of the extended metro hours, again taking an underground train across town after 4h00.
The train was packed. People were still having fun. Somebody approached me and shook my hand in the subway car. I at first assumed he was asking for money--though I didn't fully follow his spiel. I tried to continue the conversation in French upon which he flipped into perfect English:
"I have a challenge to collect as many points as I can, tonight. I get one point for each handshake, two points for each hug, and five points for each kiss on the cheek."
"Well, I just shook your hand so I guess that means one point from me," I told him.
He thanked me, moved along and approached a couple attractive young women standing in the car behind us.
I can't believe that it's already Nuit Blanche again. I was just in the beginning stages of settling into life in Québec when the last one came around. I hadn't even begun my first day of French class, then. In some ways that seems just like yesterday--not possibly one full year. In more ways it feels like I've experienced so very much since then.
I suppose I have, if nothing else, learned a little something over that time. I look back at the entry I wrote about this festival one year ago and immediately see a spelling mistake in the title. I think I'll leave it in there for posterity.