Eastern Travel, August 8-10: Montreal

After Ottawa, we took the two hour drive to Montreal. Some recollections.

Lodging: Angellica Blue Bed and Breakfast. We stayed in the Arctic Room (which was often referred to as the “Artic” room), which remained blissfully cool while the city was warm and muggy. The breakfasts were uniformly delightful (French Toast with caramel was particularly scrumptious). It’s location was pretty good — fairly central to Rue St. Denis, Old Montreal, and the museums on Ste. Catherine. The only drawback was that we were a block from Ste. Catherine — and a particularly grungy spot.

Streets: From what I can tell, Montreal is largely defined by its large thoroughfares.

We stayed closest to Rue Ste. Catherine. In our neighborhood, the street is filled with sex shops, cheap food, and lots of dirt. Very much not that archetypal “clean and bland” we’ve come to associate with our neighbors to the north. As you head West, the street gets nicer, though it turns into an outdoor mall the likes of which you see all over North America — large chain clothing and accessiories stores. Not particularly engrossing.

Rue St. Laurent was quite a bit nicer. Chock full of eateries and nightclubs. We didn’t end up doing much on this street, though.

We found ourselves returning to Rue St. Denis for food, shopping, and the like. Lots of boutiques, places to drink coffee, eat food, that kind of thing. Though busy, it was always manageable (unlike Ste Catherine).

Sights: Two of my favorite Montreal experiences were museums. Our first museum in the city was the Canadian Centre for Architecture. The building’s interiors are flat out gorgeous — a luscious use of space and form, and some beautiful wood walls. The main show currently on display is “Traces of India,” which demonstrates how the British colonizers utilized representation to create a history and culture of India that didn’t actually exist, but proved politically desirable. A remarkably rich and thoughtful explication of a thesis, I was struck by the thought that you’d likely never see anything quite so explicitly intellectual in a major American museum.

Our second museum was the Pointe-à-Callière, devoted to archaeology and history, and one of the highlights of the entire trip. The museum is located on a historical prominence in Montreal, a point which jutted into the St. Lawrence, and this was one of the first places settled after European contact. The heart of the museum is the _in situ_ archaeological dig which all attendees walk through, revealing some 400 years of history underground, annotated by a host of exhibitions, kiosks, and tour guides. Even if you’re not specifically interested in the history of Montreal (which I’m not), walking through the jagged remains of successive building foundations is a remarkable experience.

We also wandered around Old Montreal and the Piers, but they were pretty lame and touristy.

Food: We ate pretty well in Montreal. Every morning we had our delightful B&B breakfasts. Lunch was very much an on-the-go experience. Our first dinner was at Khyber Pass, an Afghan restaurant off St. Denis. Good. Filling. Many Montreal restaurants serve no alcohol, so many Montreal corner stores advertise “COLD WINE” (actually, “VINS FROID”) which you can bring into the restaurants.

Our second dinner we ate at a French bistro called Cafe Soleil (I think, though I can’t find it on Google) on Rue St. Denis. Eating outside, I enjoyed a decent Steak Frites, while Stacy had many many many moules. Not worth going back to, but it wasn’t bad or anything. Though I think our waitress kind of feared serving Anglophones.

Other Impressions: I’d love to revisit. See some more of the touristy stuff (Olympic Park, Botanic Gardens). More important, though, would be to see where the locals go. I suspect they wander St. Laurent and St. Denis, but we seemed to be surrounded by tourists. I’d love to find a more locals-oriented neighborhood. I always hold up San Francisco’s Mission District as the kind of spot I’d like to find elsewhere — busy, commercial, culturally intriguing, with food, booze, coffee, and where the residents go when they go out.

For reasons I do not recall, we pretty much took no photos of Montreal.

Eastern Travel, August 5-8: Ottawa

Stacy’s brother, Michael, lives in Ottawa. Stacy’s brother is less than a year older than she, so the two were close buddies growing up. Among other things, I’ve learned that he got her to play Dungeons and Dragons. So she still refers to her “bag of holding.”

Particularly for Americans, Ottawa is not a place to visit without a good reason. It’s a perfectly nice city, and if you have a reason to go there, you can find things to do — but unless you’re a Canadian curious about your country’s heritage, there’s nothing about the city worth drawing travelers.

Ottawa epitomizes that Canadian quality of being clean and bland.

If you do find yourself in Ottawa, the most interesting thing to do is to head to the Bytown Market and wander around. In that area, we had some tasty Indian cuisine at Haveli, and tempura and sushi at [xxxx].

We also had surprisingly good food at a local Middle Eastern chain called “Mango’s”. Cheap, tasty shawarma.

I got a haircut for CAN$11, which is about $8-9 American. Not bad, since I typically pay $20 American.

We canoed on the Rideau River. It was a perfectly fine idea, but about an hour into our tour, it proceeded to rain. Hard. Very hard. Like, you’re soaked through-and-through after a minute of being in it.

Some pictures. They’re blurred because they were taken through the plastic bag that was protecting the camera.
Yep, Still Raining
We find some shelter under a tree

Doesn't she look happy?
Stacy expresses her feelings

Of course, our stay here wasn’t about the city, it was about being with Michael and Lara, his fiance. And that, of course, was great. Michael showed us his spear (he’s in the SCA). He knew exactly where all the “Sev”s (7-11 stores) in Ottawa were, so as to soothe Stacy’s Slurpee cravings. (I read somewhere that Canadian’s consume more Slurpee’s per capita than anyone else.) He and Lara prepared a tasty noodle meal, our only home-cooked food on the entire trip. He revelled in the terrible jokes and puns which seem to be a key aspect of their father’s influence.

So, of course, we look forward to returning.

Eastern Travel, August 1-4: Chapel Hill Wedding

Serving as a groomsman in the wedding of Todd and Christy provided the spur for our travel throughout the east.

I hired Todd at Epinions. We became great friends. At Epinions, we would hang out with some others, including Christy. Over time, Todd and Christy began hanging out more. Then they moved to North Carolina to attend UNC-Chapel Hill’s Library and Information Science school. They met a bunch of cool people. They had some ups and downs. They travelled to Washington, D.C. to protest the impending war with Iraq. Spending the night at a friend’s place in Baltimore, Todd proposed marriage to Christy. She accepted. They became guardians of a beautiful dog, Sebastian James. (Sadly, Sebastian doesn’t give kisses.) Todd left the LIS program, deciding he wants to get far away from anything resembling practical. He’s studying sociology, now. They bought a comfortable townhouse in Carrboro. They know many of their neighbors.

On August 1st, Stacy and I flew across the country, taking three different planes, landing at Raleigh-Durham International Airport. (We arrived later than expected. Inclement weather up and down the east coast. That weather has persisted to the day I write this, August 12th.)

The wedding took place on August 2. As a groomsman, I had various duties. The first was to make sure the breakfast and the park was cleaned up. Then I help set up tables at the wedding site. Then I waited.

Stacy and I met up with a bunch of folks at Maple View Farm Dairy and had ice cream and sat in rocking chairs, looking out over a stereotypically beautiful rural countryside. The ice cream was pretty good (I prefer mine heavier). The mosquitos left me alone.

Back to the wedding site, a professor’s beautiful house. It was raining, a problem since the ceremony had been planned to take place in the front yard. The groomsmen dressed: an outfit comprised of a white shirt, tan vest, light-colored slacks, dress shoes, and a bright green bow-tie. We looked a bit like riverboat casino dealers.
Groomsmen in front of a mirror

We waited. We took a belt off a bottle of bourbon. We wondered if we were going to have to move the ceremony inside. Todd strapped the ring onto the ringbearer (see pic). We waited some more.

The groom preps the ringbearer

About 15 minutes before the scheduled start of the ceremony, the rain stopped, and the sun broke through. The ceremony’s officiant (what do Unitarian’s call those people? Reverends? Pastors? Anyway…) lead the groomsmen through a hand-holding and energy-flowing exercise. We headed outside, joined up with the bridesmaids, and formed the procession.

During the ceremony, I was able to snap one picture.
The bride approaches the altar

A delightful ceremony, Todd and Christy pledged refreshingly honest vows.

In short order, we segued into the evening part of the event — drinks, dinner, and dancing. I was asked to MC. The P.A. rental neglected to give us a microphone, so every 15 minutes or so, I shouted out the subsequent happenings (“Receiving and buffet line!” “Father/daughter dance!” “Cake cutting!”). The merriment lasted well into the night.

Stacy and I returned to our hotel, exhausted.

The following day, Stacy and I deked around the area. Asking around, we were directed to brunch at Elmo’s. A friendly place, the food was really only okay. Our waiter was one of those types you seen in college towns–overeducated folks doing drudgery service work who clearly get excited at the prospect of chatting with someone intelligent. We chatted a a bit about media studies.

We drove into Historic Hillsborough, but since it was Sunday, everything was closed.

We returned to Carrboro, ate at the local hip grocery store, drank some good coffee, and drank beer at a little post-wedding reception. Headed back to the Dairy Farm for a Sunday evening of live bluegrass music.

Then we headed to Chapel Hill for what proved to be one of the best meals on the trip: southern cookin’ at Mama Dips. The ribs and chicken were excellent. The sides were cooked with pork. There was no complainin’.

That was pretty much it for us in North Carolina. Extremely delightful. My second time in the area, and I’m looking forward to returning.

Play With Your Search

On October 8, 2000, I wrote about a TV ad for autotrader.com (scroll down), which utilized a visual metaphor for search that I felt was necessary to help most searchers to really understand how search works.

Well, now someone has made that a reality. Iokio.biz is in the business of providing visualization tools for sifting through data. On their home page, in the bottom left-hand corner, is a link to digital camera search. (Yes, you’ll have to sit through an unnecessary flash intro… sorry). Click on it, and play with it for a bit. It’s pretty cool.

Things I would change:
– Show brand. In my research, people shopping for digital cameras are way brand-oriented
– Utilize rollovers. I should be able to rollover the images and be given the name and model number of the camera, and it’s price
– Compare side-by-side. Some way to select multiple cameras, click “compare”, and see specs side by side. People LOVE comparing products.

Capturing “Capturing the Friedmans”

About a week ago, I went to see Capturing the Friedmans, a documentary about a family from Great Neck, New York (out on Long Island), and a troubling and sordid incident that rent them apart.

The story is a fascinating one, and the movie is endlessly compelling. On filmmaking terms, it’s not particularly interesting – talking heads interspliced with archival footage. But the film’s subject matter enthralls, disgusts, disturbs, and captivates like nothing I’ve seen for a while. And, well, it makes you think. A lot.

I fear my memory has gone a little foggy, since it’s been so long since I’ve seen it, but I want to write about my reaction. This entails lots of spoilers, so I’ve placed these thoughts behind the “Continue reading…” link.

If you haven’t seen it, I encourage you to do so.
Continue reading “Capturing “Capturing the Friedmans””

Tasty Brain Fodder

via Matt comes a link to Heckler & Coch, a site which in turn links to all sorts of tasty things. Among them is “A Brief The History of The Book” by Sam Vaknin, who seems to have a fairly wide-ranging intellect.

Long-time peterme readers may recall an extended thoughtwander of mine on The Form of the Book (scroll down to September 14, 1999), where I puzzle over people’s obsessions with paper tomes. If you scroll up to September 26th, you’ll see some follow-up thoughts.

It’s All Semantics

From a book I’m reading:

“A theoretical grid through which behavior, institutions, and texts are seen as analyzable in terms of an underlying network of relationships, the crucial point being that the elements which constitute the network gain their meaning from the relations that hold between the elements.”

This quote resonates with a theme from the last information architecture summit, where people expressed frustrating with spatial/structural metaphors, and wanted to develop systems that better expressed meaning, and did so through the relationships between items. This feeds into notions of ontologies (Brett Lider’s PowerPoint from the Summit) and the Semantic Web.

What’s interesting to me is that in the book I’m reading, the passage actually begins with, “We can define structuralism as a theoretical grid…” Yep. I’m reading a text on semiotics. (New Vocabularies in Film Semiotics, to be exact. Blame him.) Maybe these Frenchies are onto something.