Home > Life, Literature, Travel > Silence


Why can’t people just be quiet? Last night was almost a write-off once again, as the old Belgian man in my dorm had the effrontery to breathe all night. And now as I type this, there’s a Spanish guy sitting across from me mumbling continuously as he types at his own laptop. I had considered doing this up in the room, but, well, it would have been too quiet. At least the Belgian couple have moved on to Montréal – as I will do tomorrow. Wouldn’t it be ironic if, when I got to the hostel in Montréal … no, let’s not travel to that location.

Today (and when I say ‘today’ I mean ‘yesterday’, as I’m writing these posts in the evening, then uploading them the following day), my main tourist activity was going round the Hotel du Parlement – Québec’s national assembly (even though it’s not a nation). When I say ‘going round’ I mean ‘taking the tour’; the tour lasted about an hour and cost $0. Which isn’t bad.

I feel like I ought to provide a summary of the guide’s spiel, but I don’t remember that much, and to be honest I can’t be bothered. I’m sure you can find a much more coherent account on Wikipedia or something.

After that I washed and dried my clothes at a lavoir around the corner from the hostel. Once I’d acquired several dollars-worth of quarters, anyway.

What else have I done? Not much. Reading. At going on for 500 pages in, Reaper’s Gale is gathering narrative strength. Many of the surviving characters from the previous books are present in the current volume and it all seems to be shaping up for some momentous conflict in the Letherii Empire. I have a feeling I’m going to be dedicating a fair amount of my time in Montreal to reading.

And that would make sense because I’m losing my appetite for sightseeing. Today was perfect in terms of weather – a cloudless sky and a pleasant breeze – but I was quite content to spend a chunk of it sitting in the laundry reading.

While I’ve been writing daily entries for my blog, my other writing – my proper writing, my writing writing – has, once again, as ever, been neglected (and does the use of the passive voice imply that I’m not the one who’s been neglecting it?), although ideas have been coming to me now and then. Maybe that’s what I’ll do now – it’s twenty past eight and I’m not going anywhere.

Categories: Life, Literature, Travel
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