Well, my little brother and only sibling is finally married. It was a picture-perfect wedding. The ceremony and reception were here; that particular hall is where the ceremony took place.
My brother looked dashing, my new sister-in-law looked stunning. They’re one fantastic-looking couple.
The weather in Montreal was beautiful all weekend – mostly mid- to high-70s – although it got a little humid the day after the wedding.
The trip up to Montreal for me and Matt was not too fun, though. We took Amtrak, because there was no room in my parents’ car. The train was packed, and we almost couldn’t sit together. We finally found two seats, one behind the other, and I asked a guy if he wouldn’t mind switching with one of us so we could sit together. He said no. Fortunately the guy next to me turned out to be a train employee and soon got up, so Matt was able to move next to me after all. But I fumed silently at the obstinate traveller on and off for the next three hours until he got off at Albany.
The trip is supposed to take 10 hours and 15 minutes – long enough, given that it takes 6 or 7 hours by car – but it wound up taking 12 hours in reality. We were stuck at the border for a long time because the customs officials kicked someone off the train.
There were these three guys in our car sitting together right in front of us from the beginning of the trip. Mid-20s, New York/Long Island guys, fratty types. At one point I saw them in the dining car sharing a bottle of whiskey. They were in there for like three hours, and soon after they came back to their seats, Matt and I moved away so we could get some peace and quiet. But when the train stopped at the border, and the customs people came through the car, they spent a long time down at the end of the car with the fratty guys. Next thing I knew, one of the guys was carrying his suitcase off the train, followed by a customs official. About half an hour later, the guy came back through the car, again accompanied by a customs official, and got another of his bags. As he and the customs official walked off the train again, they were followed by one of the guy’s friends. The customs person told him to stay. But he said, “If Canada doesn’t want my friend, then I don’t want to be here either!” The official said something else to him, and he responded, “Fuck off.”
Not what you want to say to a customs official.
Long story short, the guy and his friend both left the train and the third friend stayed on for the rest of the trip.
On top of that, at lunchtime I had to wait on line in the dining car for 45 MINUTES just to get some crappy food for me and Matt.
Later, Matt threw up into a plastic bag on the train because he had a stomach flu.
So the trip up was pretty bad.
Never again will I take the train to Montreal. Fortunately there was room in my parents’ car for us on the trip back.
The rest of the weekend was fabulous.
I’m so proud of my brother and so happy to welcome his new bride into the family. May they have a long and wonderful life together.
