meetings and old and new friends
Quebec City meet up time. A time for evaluation, discussion...
And getting absolutely smashed.
But that's not the beginning of the story, so you'll have to wait for it. I have been so excited for the Quebec City meeting for ages - not only to see everyone, but you know, to get a couple of days off work. I'm only human. So anyway, Wednesday comes and I survive the one class I have to sit through - Isobel picks me up from school and lets me grab my stuff from home (and also Alice, we found her there too) before heading to the hotel. It was a really nice hotel, on par with - dare I say it - the Lord Elgin. We were chatting in the corridor and a Canadian assistant came out, Alisha - she was new and is going to be working in Beauport same as me. She was really nice - and she's now our new flatmate. But I digress.
The first night we headed to Ashton for poutine - EVENTUALLY. Ashton is like a fast food place but it's completely exclusive to Quebec City, but all the kids from my school and also Alice's have raved about the poutine there. I took the challenge of a "regular" size one - the woman was like "it's big you know" but I was like sure, sure, I'm hungry. I should probably have listened to her - I was handed a pretty large tray of the stuff, which was subsequently ogled at by the rest of the assistants still queuing, and I was subsequently judged. I have no regrets, and I ate the whole damn thing. And it was good. After the delights of Ashton, we went on a little wander through the old city (it was really beautiful at night but I did end up spending most of the walk having a discussion about football and how horrendous Newcastle's defeat to Sunderland was) before we ended up at the outdoor ice rink. Yes, I braved it - Brandon Flowers' Crossfire came on as I was putting my skates on and if that's not a sign that I was meant to be there, I don't know what is - and yes, I fell over. But just the once. Though it was a spectacular fall - flat, on my arse, knocking over Dan who ended up awkwardly straddling me on the ice - we looked like we were about to start an Oops Upside Your Head Dance. Awkward, but hilarious. For any assistants reading this and chuckling away that I fell over (and perhaps feeling slightly smug that they managed to stay on their feet), let's all remember that Renaud fell over as well (Renaud is like the guy in charge of all the assistants).
We headed to a bar afterwards - not a bar I'd been in before, and it was a bit of a sausage fest (Translation for Parents: Sausage Fest = Filled with Males) but it was good to just sit and talk with everyone, even if it was over a beer, and I'm not a beer drinker. It was a reasonably calm night though, and we headed back to the Manoir Victoria (a name perhaps almost as pretentious as the Lord Elgin) for a good night's sleep.
7.30am alarms are soul destroying, make no mistake. So are 8am hotel wake up calls that I end up trying to reply to even though they're a recorded message. But we made it to breakfast for 8.15 - somehow. The day was filled with evaulations and activities, and we learned a lot, especially from this lovely former teacher who had some really cool ideas about teaching. But even her fun games could not distract us from the dread we all felt for that night - the cabaret.
But anyway, before that!
We headed to the Cabane a Sucre (Sugar Shack) on the Ile d'Orleans, where we had the making of maple syrup explained to us (in French, obviously). We tried some really nice maple butter, before sitting down for a meal - broth; then meat pie, potatoes, egg (?!), maple syrup baked beans, you know, the usual; then pancakes for pudding obviously, and then we tried maple taffy that we twisted onto a stick ourselves. Then the quiz, which passed over too quickly (Tremblay is the most popular Quebec surname). And then - the dreaded cabaret. Renaud had emailed us (and for those of us who had ignored this, emailed us AGAIN) telling us to come up with an act for the Thursday night cabaret. A panic decision led to the Sockstreet Boys - a sock puppet show of Backstreet Boys "I Want It That Way" (I was Brian). It went surprisingly well, but the variety (and standard) of the acts was really impressive. We had singers, jigs, even a spontaenous ceilidh, a wonderful bit of improv by the Joliette lot, a flash mob version of the cup song, a mixed bunch of British assistants jamming out "Blurred Lines" with a cheeky rewrite of "what rhymes with poutine", a Mexican song and dance act, a rap about St Georges (I'm still laughing now), a medley of Canadian songs representing each province culminating in the national anthem (all the Canadians stood up all patriotic, and I sang along - well shrieked, I was canny drunk at that point), amongst other acts. It surprised us all - the thing we'd dreaded so much turned out to be amazing. I ended up chatting away to a bunch of the Canadian assistants too - and even got told my Canadian history knowledge was good (pretty good eh!).
And we drank a hell of a lot of wine. A HELL OF A LOT. On the bus home, we ended up singing a Nova Scotian song (oh how I wish I was in Sherbrooke town), as well as Oasis and Queen - which resulted in me losing my voice - before I was introduced as a New Jersian to some random Canadian assistant. I totally went along with it and enthusiastically started shouting "Noo Joy-sey". Oh wine.
Anyway, there were a few sore heads on Friday morning, and somehow we managed to trudge through a day of activities. It was a difficult day, I admit - but thanks to the chicken song, and the hokey cokey, we made it. Friday night was a tough one - I managed to drag myself out of my pit (inspired by Cadburys & Coca Cola) for a couple of drinks in Atelier (amaretto sours, of course). I made it home on the last bus though - feeling truly like my mother's daughter (though the Quebec last bus is just before 1am, not 11.15pm from opposite Greggs).
One sweet lie in later, I woke up to some incredible news - Newcastle beat Chelsea 2-0.
Alisha came round to check out the house, and we met up with her later at the mall as I desperately tried to shop for Florida (no such luck - will panic buy on Monday), before she drove us home for sushi and a lazy evening.
All in all, it's been an incredible few days. I can't explain how good the sugar shack night was, it's such an amazing bunch of people. It's crazy that we've hardly spent any real time together, and yet meeting up with them again was like seeing old friends.
I've tried to keep this as short as possible, but I guess there was a lot to talk about. I'm off to Florida soon so I'm not sure how much I'll have to talk about before then. I'll blog whenever I can though. Plus, we've started making some REALLY REALLY exciting plans - hopefully be able to spill the beans (maple syrup flavoured or otherwise) soonish.
laterssss
And getting absolutely smashed.
But that's not the beginning of the story, so you'll have to wait for it. I have been so excited for the Quebec City meeting for ages - not only to see everyone, but you know, to get a couple of days off work. I'm only human. So anyway, Wednesday comes and I survive the one class I have to sit through - Isobel picks me up from school and lets me grab my stuff from home (and also Alice, we found her there too) before heading to the hotel. It was a really nice hotel, on par with - dare I say it - the Lord Elgin. We were chatting in the corridor and a Canadian assistant came out, Alisha - she was new and is going to be working in Beauport same as me. She was really nice - and she's now our new flatmate. But I digress.
The first night we headed to Ashton for poutine - EVENTUALLY. Ashton is like a fast food place but it's completely exclusive to Quebec City, but all the kids from my school and also Alice's have raved about the poutine there. I took the challenge of a "regular" size one - the woman was like "it's big you know" but I was like sure, sure, I'm hungry. I should probably have listened to her - I was handed a pretty large tray of the stuff, which was subsequently ogled at by the rest of the assistants still queuing, and I was subsequently judged. I have no regrets, and I ate the whole damn thing. And it was good. After the delights of Ashton, we went on a little wander through the old city (it was really beautiful at night but I did end up spending most of the walk having a discussion about football and how horrendous Newcastle's defeat to Sunderland was) before we ended up at the outdoor ice rink. Yes, I braved it - Brandon Flowers' Crossfire came on as I was putting my skates on and if that's not a sign that I was meant to be there, I don't know what is - and yes, I fell over. But just the once. Though it was a spectacular fall - flat, on my arse, knocking over Dan who ended up awkwardly straddling me on the ice - we looked like we were about to start an Oops Upside Your Head Dance. Awkward, but hilarious. For any assistants reading this and chuckling away that I fell over (and perhaps feeling slightly smug that they managed to stay on their feet), let's all remember that Renaud fell over as well (Renaud is like the guy in charge of all the assistants).
We headed to a bar afterwards - not a bar I'd been in before, and it was a bit of a sausage fest (Translation for Parents: Sausage Fest = Filled with Males) but it was good to just sit and talk with everyone, even if it was over a beer, and I'm not a beer drinker. It was a reasonably calm night though, and we headed back to the Manoir Victoria (a name perhaps almost as pretentious as the Lord Elgin) for a good night's sleep.
7.30am alarms are soul destroying, make no mistake. So are 8am hotel wake up calls that I end up trying to reply to even though they're a recorded message. But we made it to breakfast for 8.15 - somehow. The day was filled with evaulations and activities, and we learned a lot, especially from this lovely former teacher who had some really cool ideas about teaching. But even her fun games could not distract us from the dread we all felt for that night - the cabaret.
But anyway, before that!
We headed to the Cabane a Sucre (Sugar Shack) on the Ile d'Orleans, where we had the making of maple syrup explained to us (in French, obviously). We tried some really nice maple butter, before sitting down for a meal - broth; then meat pie, potatoes, egg (?!), maple syrup baked beans, you know, the usual; then pancakes for pudding obviously, and then we tried maple taffy that we twisted onto a stick ourselves. Then the quiz, which passed over too quickly (Tremblay is the most popular Quebec surname). And then - the dreaded cabaret. Renaud had emailed us (and for those of us who had ignored this, emailed us AGAIN) telling us to come up with an act for the Thursday night cabaret. A panic decision led to the Sockstreet Boys - a sock puppet show of Backstreet Boys "I Want It That Way" (I was Brian). It went surprisingly well, but the variety (and standard) of the acts was really impressive. We had singers, jigs, even a spontaenous ceilidh, a wonderful bit of improv by the Joliette lot, a flash mob version of the cup song, a mixed bunch of British assistants jamming out "Blurred Lines" with a cheeky rewrite of "what rhymes with poutine", a Mexican song and dance act, a rap about St Georges (I'm still laughing now), a medley of Canadian songs representing each province culminating in the national anthem (all the Canadians stood up all patriotic, and I sang along - well shrieked, I was canny drunk at that point), amongst other acts. It surprised us all - the thing we'd dreaded so much turned out to be amazing. I ended up chatting away to a bunch of the Canadian assistants too - and even got told my Canadian history knowledge was good (pretty good eh!).
And we drank a hell of a lot of wine. A HELL OF A LOT. On the bus home, we ended up singing a Nova Scotian song (oh how I wish I was in Sherbrooke town), as well as Oasis and Queen - which resulted in me losing my voice - before I was introduced as a New Jersian to some random Canadian assistant. I totally went along with it and enthusiastically started shouting "Noo Joy-sey". Oh wine.
Anyway, there were a few sore heads on Friday morning, and somehow we managed to trudge through a day of activities. It was a difficult day, I admit - but thanks to the chicken song, and the hokey cokey, we made it. Friday night was a tough one - I managed to drag myself out of my pit (inspired by Cadburys & Coca Cola) for a couple of drinks in Atelier (amaretto sours, of course). I made it home on the last bus though - feeling truly like my mother's daughter (though the Quebec last bus is just before 1am, not 11.15pm from opposite Greggs).
One sweet lie in later, I woke up to some incredible news - Newcastle beat Chelsea 2-0.
Alisha came round to check out the house, and we met up with her later at the mall as I desperately tried to shop for Florida (no such luck - will panic buy on Monday), before she drove us home for sushi and a lazy evening.
All in all, it's been an incredible few days. I can't explain how good the sugar shack night was, it's such an amazing bunch of people. It's crazy that we've hardly spent any real time together, and yet meeting up with them again was like seeing old friends.
I've tried to keep this as short as possible, but I guess there was a lot to talk about. I'm off to Florida soon so I'm not sure how much I'll have to talk about before then. I'll blog whenever I can though. Plus, we've started making some REALLY REALLY exciting plans - hopefully be able to spill the beans (maple syrup flavoured or otherwise) soonish.
laterssss
Halice on tour
(this is after the Great Maple Syrup Spillage of 2013)
Ice skating :)
I look really steady
NOW YOU'RE IN ST GEORGES
You rock it, Sweetman
Cup song
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