Day 144: I Do Not See Beavers (Or Penguins)

Because I am a cretin, I thought I would walk to where the Beavers (and perhaps Penguins) are. After a very long walk that promised to end every fifteen minutes and then extended itself for "1.5" (miles or kilometres I cannot truthfully say), I found the Location of the Beavers (and perhaps Penguins). "Can I help?", said the man in the peaked cap. "I would like a ticket to see the Beavers, and perhaps the Penguins!", I replied. "We are closed, Madame, but open tomorrow. I am Desolated."

Walking endlessly without any real idea of where I am going does not make me a cretin; it makes me Curious and an Adventurer and also someone who is Keen On Walking. Not checking the guidebook to see if the beavers are open for business when you have been informed that very morning that, like France, Montreal's galleries and that are shut on Mondays, makes walking endlessly and without cease down a triple carriageway next to the Olympic stadium no more than what you deserve.

Still, if I hadn't gone on my long, strange, Beaver-less walk, I would never have seen this monkey riding a carousel horse.























Every cloud, and that. I shall try again tomorrow. On the Metro, or perhaps in a cab or on a carousel horse. But not by walking with my feet.

Day 144: I Am In Safe Hands

I am in the Montreal! It is quite simply marvellous. There is snow. It is better than London already and that's BEFORE I've been to see the beavers (which are just down the road).

The Grey Squirrel runs more freely about the place here than they do even in London, which would be immensely vexing were it not for the fact that I am with a Very Dear Man and Splendid Host who has Magical Powers. All he has to do is point at squirrels and they are Immobilised, as demonstrated in this splendid photograph. (He is also good at Scrabble and knowing where bars with ostriches on the wall can be found.)






















But that is not all on the rats-with-tails front. There is a strange kind of Grey Squirrel that has been drained of colour. He lollops about with his equally weird Albino Twin Squirrel Brother in the local park. Here he is. Can YOU see him in this picture? Look carefully!


















Right. I'm off to see some beavers. And maybe some penguins.

Day 141: I Get A Bit Emotional In Terminal 3

So keen was Monkeymother to get me out of the country, she drove me to the airport. As MM is efficient and I am not, I was jolly early. There were ten empty check-in desks! This was a veritable miracle, particularly as I am used mainly to the evil work of RyanSatan. I chose the third.

Suitcase was too heavy, of course. 6 kilos too heavy, mainly because it is full of fudge, tea in tin boxes with pictures of the Queen on and teddy bears dressed up as Beefeaters. Excess charge! But worth it, for the person I am visiting I am sure will enjoy the array of british goods I have acquired (Pot Noodles, a Double Decker, 3 Sherbert Dib-Dabs, a four-pack of John Smith's Bitter and a Dundee Fruit Cake).

The checkout lady was splendid. I said, "Is it wrong to be excited?", and she said, "No! Why would it be wrong? If you lose the ability to be excited you might as well give up." We talked for a long time. She wasn't very busy, and I was very early. I told her that I was visiting someone who I'd only met once; she agreed with Monkeymother that it was the right thing to do, because if I didn't do it, I'd forever ask "What if?".

She didn't make me pay for my extra Shortbread kilos (in fact, she tore up the slip extravagantly in front of me and tossed the bits over her shoulder); she tried to upgrade me but couldn't; she slapped 'Priority' sticker on so I could zoom through at the other end like a ferret up a drainpipe. I am to get her a note via the crew on the return flight with my name and phone number so that, in the unlikely event that I am allowed back to Montreal, she will get me a free ticket.

She waved me off, the lovely Irish check-in lady with her blonde bob and lovely smiley face, and blew me a kiss, all of which made my eyes water a bit.

SPLENDID MONKEY GALLERY: Picture 19

Some astonishing images reach me from Amsterdam where my brother, Runningmonkey, lives with his beautiful lady, some fleas, an industrial sized jar of Marmite (capacity: 5 litres) and BBC World.

He has recently been Travelling The World making tiny moving pictures. But as a member of the Monkey Family, his beady eyes are always on the alert for Monkeys of Interest. Wandering through a department store in Shanghai looking for a truss, he came upon this extraordinary combination of Pure Art, Technology and Good Monkey Face.
































His images are accompanied by a Mysterious Note:

"TV Monkey or Monkey TV?

As seen in a department store in Shanghai no less.

How about it?"

How about it indeed, little brother!

It is almost Too Much, and a late entry to the Gallery which has forced me to reconsider my current favourite. I shall consider the Winner as I float through the skies, protected by a talisman that will "ensure safe passage on a journey over water", and post the result next week. (If I am not distracted by something else.) If anyone can remember all the past Splendid Monkeys and has a preference, please submit your vote (with supporting argument for your choice).

Day 140: I Am Still Working!

I have lost my boots and my pyjamas. I have not packed, although I have a list, which is the same as packing without the actual stuff being in the actual case. But I know where all the stuff is (apart from the boots, which I will need for stomping about in slush, and my pyjamas, which are broken anyway, and the case itself).

I am still writing! I have done bank mergers, American tourism, dry dog food and sports drinks. Now I must do digital television, beer and nursery schools. I do not like this kind of writing. All this work means I cannot find a stuffed toy representing the late Pierre Trudeau, and nor have I the inclination to look. That is the Sorry Truth. Here instead is a photograph of him:


"He haunts us still", said his biographers. (Interestingly, his full name is Joseph Philippe Pierre Yves Elliott Trudeau.)

Further Interesting Trudeau Facts include the astonishing revelation that he sometimes wore sandals or a buckskin jacket in the House of Commons and once did a pirouette behind the back of Our Own Dear Queen, Irrelevant II. He was preceeded and succeeded by a man called Joe Clark and was born the day before me, but fifty years earlier.

It only remains for me to point out that whoever invented working was an Idiot.