Day One: Sunshine and Tea

Today I woke up in Montreal.

The sun was shining, I had the whole day to relax, explore, soak up some much needed vitamin D.

For years, I have told the world and myself that I am no sun worshipper, that I actually prefer autumn and my outfits always look better when it's blustery. But today, I had a creeping fear, a fear that I had been lying to myself. What if I've always just told myself that my hair looks better after its been soaked through and wind blown dry? A coping mechanism to deal with British weather?

Back in the sunshine of the very un-British summer, I found myself with another conundrum, one a little more practical. I was in need of a brew.

I didn't bring any food with me, even the sandwich from the plane had been lost at the airport thanks to a stern customs lady. Fortunately, I have wonderful friends who had sent me off with a care package including, among less tasteful items, Tetley tea bags. Problem was: no milk. And I have never been nor ever will be, one of those people who can drink tea without milk. It's unnatural, OK.

Thus began my quest.

My apartment is just off the main shopping street in Montreal. My wonderful taxi driver told me on arrival: this is the centre of the centre. Good news. But H&M does not sell milk. Neither does Forever 21. I know, because I checked.

Reluctantly turning away from the shops, I walked in the other direction, right into the middle of the Montreal Jazz Festival. So, of course, I stopped, drank an iced latte, listened to some jazz and watched the cool kids mingle with the tourists.

Sadly, the latte did not cure my tea craving. So I journeyed on. After a couple of blocks, I found myself in China Town. Chinese supermarkets must sell milk right? Nope, apparently not. Keep going.

My next stop was the tourist information office. Guy behind the till looked at me blankly and told me he didn't live round here and didn't know. Thanks for your help, guy.

I was just about to turn home, when I spotted a women with a grocery bag. Better still she answered my enquiry with a Yorkshire brogue. How comforting. She directed me to a shop which turned out to be one block away from my building. Go figure.

I drank my cup of tea over Facetime with my Mum. We have it the same (strong but milky no sugar, if you're wondering).

This stall sold lots of maple syrup. It did not sell milk.