A while ago I was here at Mont Royal Park, which is a great place to see the city of Montreal from a distance. But for people who don’t understand any French outside of “bonjour”, “croissant”, and “douze pointe,” apparently “Mont” means mountain. And for out of shape people with stupid blood that refuses to carry oxygen, that’s not a good sign. 250 meters isn’t bad if it’s a flat road, but it was a 30-35o climb up from the metro station to the top of the hill (read: cell phone tower).
I was out of breath only halfway up, while locals were running up and down the hill, shaking their heads at the few tourists at 8:00 AM who stopped to rest every 5 seconds. But after the 15-or-so flights of stairs, the path was relatively level with just a little bit of climb to get to the top. As my head finally had enough oxygen to think, I just kept thinking “take it slow, learn to run, step by step, one by one.” It felt really stupid concentrating on a Melfest entry in order to not panic, but eventually (read: 35 minutes later) the summit was in view.
On a completely unrelated note, does Rickard Söderberg look a bit like Mario Batali wearing a trench coat and make-up?