This is a view of the Canadian Library of Parliament, as seen from the famous bell tower. We are looking across the Alexander Bridge on the Ottawa River, which bisects the city of the same name. As this is part of the Houses Of Commons and home of Canadian government, everything is kept pristine. The ornate blues and golds of this spire are always fresh. I’m just really glad I am not the one that has to paint them.
I recall driving a U-Haul over that bridge in the background and immediately feeling lost. English road signs stop, halfway across the bridge. It’s another world. Primarily French. The Ottawa river marks the boundary between Ontario and Quebec. In the time it takes to cross the span of one bridge the world changes. I found that though the shopkeepers undoubtedly do speak perfectly good English, they won’t. Surly bunch. At least those that I spoke with. I expect that was because I had had the temerity to cross the bridge without first learning French. Which is fair, I suppose, but I didn’t have the time. It’s a short bridge.
Apparently, though there is an up side. Beer does not cost as much in Quebec. Which just doesn’t seem right, somehow. But it does explain why that bridge is always busy.
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