Walking Home in the Dark

I am careful with Tara and watch my words, but invariably get caught up in recriminations. Despite wanting to flee through a three hour marathon discussion over coffee and muffins, it was Tara who scrambled off up to the mountain. I visited the Museum of Fine Arts and calmed down looking at Greek and Roman and Egyptian and Syrian and Iranian and pre Columbian Art. I followed Tara up the mountain to the peak, where I admired the view of the city below me. It was sunny and warm and the sky was a gorgeous blue and I was relieved not to be wet. My shoes are ruined after the past two days.

We met again in the chalet at the top and it seems that we are fine again. Tara wanted Indian food and we walked down to Parc and then to St Laurent where we tried to find the Lumiere d'Inde, but it was closed between lunch and dinner. We found a small cafe (Boui Boui) and inhaled a goat cheese salad and inferior cappuccino and walked down St Laurent to a middle eastern place we had tried my first visit here. It is actually off St Denis near the cinemas where the film festival played, I wish I could remember the name. We warmed up with mint tea and baklava and pistachio and almond cakes. Tara had a party to go to and I walked back to St Laurent to buy tickets to a Shakespeare play (Henry V) which was good enough but not great, I am afraid that I am a bit of a theatre snob after so many visits to New York and London for theatre. But I like Henry V and it felt good to be out.

I read late into the morning hours, reassured that we were gaining an hour for daylight savings time. I think that travel is the one place I can catch up on reading, there being no time at home with all the responsibilities of my life. I am transported to other worlds when I read, and I cannot put a book down, so I took advantage and read with abandon.