June 21, 2010 Rotary? Oh, right, Rotary!
Montreal is apparently known as the number one North American city for hosting conferences. I wonder whether it was selected by conference organizers or delegates, because going to a city for a conference, and actually going to the conference can be very different things. And Montreal is one non-stop diversion.
Sunday morning I miss the opening Plenary and take my hangover for a look-see on a Bixi. There are bike lanes and paths here that must set Gregor Robinson drooling onto his spandex shorts: At regular intervals – including a block from my hotel – there are locked racks of 3 speed cruisers. You put your Visa in and pop one out of the rack and off you go, helmet-less, over cobbles and through traffic, with grace if not speed. My preferred technique is to slip in behind a jolie jeune fille and do what she does, though perhaps not quite as elegantly. (From what I can tell, Quebecoise women even swear elegantly, though that may be due to much practice.) We (me and my hangover) rode around the touristy Quais jutting out into the rushing St. Lawrence, and out to the remnants of Expo on Ile St. Helene. We ride past Habitat 67, all tastefully decorated with lovely little terrace gardens on all the odd jutting out bits, remember how incongruous those things used to look? Now you would want one. The bikes are for short hops, cheap to rent for 30 – 60 minutes, but after that the price skyrockets. You just park it, do your business, and come out and hop on another one. And they are everywhere. According to Jako we’ll have this soon in Vancouver, and I can’t wait.
I actually make it to part of the second Plenary session – there are about 50,000 delegates, so they have to do everything twice. The flags of the 110 countries where Rotary is established are paraded out. Brazil, Mexico and India get big cheers from their clubs, but seeing benighted spots like Eritrea, Sudan and Bangladesh represented gives some reason to hope. But the rest of Team Tsawwassen has assembled at the rooftop terrace of my hotel for cocktails, and I bail when the Turkish folk dancing starts. Dinner is warm gizzard and duck salad.
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