Weekend in Montreal: Part 2, Clubcrazy.

Saying I went out at night is probably an understatement. I understand why the Canadians (especially Montreal and Toronto, I've been told) get their reputation. In the winter time, it's basically a zillion degrees below zero (-15°F on Sat eve) and you're forced with a binary decision: end your life as a funny-French-speaking Canuck popsicle -- or party like a crazyperson, dancing away the cold. Seems that majority of 'em picked door #2. And boy did I struggle to keep up.

I think in the three years he's been there, SpikeyheadEric (pictured above) has had only a small handful of visitors while studying McGill Law, and I counted as #3 or #4. Needless to say, having a good college friend in a foreign town is a wonderous thing. Not having asked around, checked out what would be fun, or really doing any shred of "nightlife research" going into the weekend didn't worry me in the least. Why bother when I could just call Spikeyhead and have him drag me all over the place? And so he did.


Spikester introduced me to his instantly open-armed Montreal pals, and we bounced from place to place, each one of them even more packed with skinny, spikey, smirking Montreal hotties. With some sort of local delicacy consisting of fries, gravy-something and bacon grease (or similar), I don't know how all these people stay so fit and goodlooking. (I suspect it's the 4-8 hour dancing bouts every weekend.) Two of the three nights we watched the sun rise. The clubs closed at 3am. And after-hours, well, who knows when it closed -- we surrendered at 9am.

Thanks for all the fun, new Montreal peeps. Stay skinny, smirking, and fantastic. Call me when you get to NYC. I'm definitely headed back to Montreal -- although I think I'll wait until it's not arctic tundra deviland. I hear you go (even more) nuts in the summer... (UPDATE: PS, thinking of visiting? Check out this supercool tourism vid.)