In Argelés, the garbage truck acts as an alarm, usually earlier than we want to get up, but there is the pleasure of rolling over for a bit more sleep. The trucks are small because the houses were built when cows and carts were the mode of transportation not big cars. The width would not allow an SUV to pass comfortably, a cause for rejoicing.
This morning we woke to the sound of a much bigger garbage truck. We are on the 15th floor in the centre of Montreal. It made us feel at home.
Last night as soon as we arrived we boiled our New England corn. European corn is like a fifth cousin at best. It evokes the memory of buying freshly picked corn from a farm stand, rushing home to shuck it as water bubbled on the stove.
Granted the corn had travelled but it had retained most of its flavored.
I chewed slowly because in this world of everything available, I would be surprised if I will be back to buy it.
I will be back in Argelés to hear the garbage trucks.
Sensations of home come from so many different sources.
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Ah, Montreal! Have fun and eat well. Be sure to go to Swartz's for smoked meat and St. Viateur Bagel for lox and cream cheese. Look hard enough and you'll find foods from every corner of the world. McGill University campus should be beautiful right now, with football and rugby games in the afternoon on the front lawns. Walk up to Mont Royal on the caleche rode and picnic by Beaver Lake. Can you tell I'm a little homesick? Enjoy!
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