LOVE IN MONTREAL (part 1)

1967 was a wonderful year for me in many ways. But this chapter really started in 1964.

In these early 1960s Gibraltar was the port of call for two liners that I can remember, the MV Dunera was one of them. What was special about these trips to Gibraltar, was the "Questors". As far as I can tell they had as passengers, a senior school youth group organised by the Canadian Department of Education of Montreal and an anonymous millionaire who paid for the trip to Europe of a chosen few students as part of a cultural education, visiting Europe.

They all dressed very smart, with red blazers and their crests, white shirts, grey trousers fir the boys and skirts for the girls. The students were given the usual Rock Tour, supervised by a couple of teachers and this took most of their one-day stay. Later they were allowed free to flavour the real Gibraltar by themselves.

Those of us guys who knew the day the liner was arriving would get ourselves ready with our best suits & ties, polished winkle-picker shoes and went out on a “hunting party” as it were.
It was a wonderful experience, especially in Gibraltar which was such a backwater in those days, to meet people from a land a couple of thousand miles away. That was my first contact with Canadians they were such friendly people and they undoubtedly still are.
It was during one such that strip in 1964 when three local friends and I met four very friendly and charming girl Questors. We showed them what sights there were in town, a few shops for those that wanted to buy souvenirs, then we invited them for a more intimate (in those days .... all proper and above board) drink. We went down Tuckey's Lane into Irish Town, to a bar called Monaco Arms. This was about one half  of the present The Clipper. By some mysterious unspoken agreement, we each sat next to our preferred girl.... or perhaps it was their choice? That is how I met Donna D’Aoust. She was blonde, blue eyes and with a smile that would revive the very Pharaohs had they but seen it!

By today's standards this was all so tame as would be laughable. The most daring thing we did was have alcoholic drinks (one each) with crisps and a couple of chasers of .....Coca Cola! We ordered enough to make sure that the waiter did not need to visit our corner again, and in the semi-privacy of the Monaco Arms, Donna and I fell in "love". I really do not know why I was called something of a slow coach at school because in the three or four hours we had together we managed to get so besotted with each other we vowed never to forget each other and to write often.
For those readers of a disbelieving nature, let me tell you that we did kiss and we did hold hands and that was the full extent of our physical intimacy. But at that age and in that time this was almost considered a veritable public orgy! The barman was happy selling drinks at 6 in the afternoon on a weekday, the waiter was happy at the handsome tip received for NOT hovering around to offer another unnecessary drink.

If any Millennials are reading this, and I hope there are some, a commitment to write often meant having deep feelings for each other. We really had to get pen and paper, envelopes and stamps, and take time out from our normal day to write, by hand, interesting things we had been doing, our undying passion for each other, all in lucid (but not lurid) handwriting, post the letter and……. wait a couple of weeks to get a reply.
Donna and I did this for over 3 years, postally cementing our friendship to the point that I promised to visit her in faraway Montreal. Since this was not what within  the plans my parents had for me, I could not count on them to pay for the tickets or the holiday money I needed once there. This meant I had to scrimp and save for over 3 years and I did it spurred on by the sweet words of Donna and my ever-increasing libido. By mid-June 1967, I went to Blands and bought a return ticket on BOAC!

Two weeks before boarding the plane I received a beautiful letter from Donna telling me she was very excited I was going over....... and so was her fiancé Peter ! ! !
I was speechless.
I felt wounded deep in my heart.
Betrayed.
Disappointed.
Angry.
Very, very angry.
Powerless other than to tear up the expensive flight tickets and curl up in a corner and die.
And the very next day I received a letter from Peter …… yes THAT Peter!

"Dear David,
How wonderful that you are coming over for EXPO'67. Donna has told me so much about you. I look forward to meeting you and show you the best of Montreal. July is when EXPO 67 will be at its best. This will be the biggest world fair ever, and the pavilions are looking spectacular. I have already bought you a season ticket and I have rented a small flat nearby which you and I can share and will be no cost to you.
I am sure we shall be great friends,
(yeah, right!!-my commment)
See you soon, Peter "

OK dear readers what would you do?
20 years old, having saved for 3 years to meet the girl of your dreams only to realise she was that only your dreams!
Yes, I went over to Montreal …. Why not?
The flight there and back was already bought & paid for, Dad & Mum gave me some spending money with which I had bought Travelers Cheque… it was too late to back out. Are Travelers Cheque still around? They were the safest way to take money on holiday then, before Credit Cards. The bank would sell you these, much as in a cheque-book format. Each cheque was for a given printed denomination, in my case Canadian Dollars, $10 cheques, $20, $30, $40, $50 and $100. On buying them, you would sign each n the top line, leaving the bottom line unsigned. When you needed to buy something or pay for hotel or restaurant, you would sign on the bottom line with as many cheques were needed to cover such a cost. If BOTH signatures were identical, the cheque was accepted as legal tender and accepted in most good places. If the Travellers Cheques were lost or stolen, whoever wanted to spend that money needed to forge your signature exactly. Not fool proof, but safer than carrying cash around.

1967 was when Franco next door ramped up the restrictions against us. Patriotic feelings ran high, and I went to see Mr.Corso of the SPQR tobacconist (see previous chapters) .
“Que quieres, chiqutin?”
“Mr Corso, I see that you have made match booklets to give away to your clients. They have printed on them "The Rock of Gibraltar" and the slogan ‘British since 1724 and British forever!"

"Si ... toma .. cuantos, quireres?"

"No, Mr Corso, I am going to Montreal in Canada to see EXPO 67 and I want everybody to know about what is happening in Gibraltar. I want to give every Canadian a booklet of these matches to make them aware what Franco is doing to us."
I was so naïve. My concept of Montreal was … a city like Gib, only a bit bigger. Obviously, I was ignorant of the real size of Montreal, let alone the two islands where EXPO 67 had the expositions of all the pavilions of virtually every civilised country in the developed world, each Island as big as the whole of Gibraltar!
He was not fased. He liked me enough to give me one big box of 500 matchbooks and encouraged me to spread them far and wide in the new world! It took up the space of a quarter of my suitcase, but there was no 20kilo weight restrictions in those days! The very next week, dressed in a suit, yes, we dressed up for flying in those days, and lugging a very heavy suitcase (long before present security checks) I boarded the plane to London and from there to London Heathrow, then on to Montreal.

I think the flight London-Montreal took 10 hours….10 exciting and expectational hours. My first impression of that magnificent City was the roads! I used up four rolls of film taking photos of four-lane highways either way, …..highways which stretched to infinity …..with cars that could never travel down Irish Town, Parliament Lane, Engineer Lane…….  I felt, and no doubt was, a veritable country bumpkin!

My second impression was the hospitality of Canadians. As soon as l arrived in Verdun, on the outskirts of Montreal, and walked in into the D'Aoust home, it was:
"Hi David. Donna, David's here! " Simple, easy, no fuss.
Mrs D'Aoust welcomed me as if a Gibraltarian dropping in, in the evening was the most natural thing to all Canadians.

"Do you like pizza?" she asked

"Yes, thank you" ... (Do I? I really was not too sure. Is that kosher?.)

"Margarita?" .... Well, if Donna was going to be with Peter, why should I not meet Margarita?

Yes, yes,….. I was so well travelled huh?

When the pizza arrived, it was huge! I had never seen pizzas that big, in fact I do not think had ever seen or eaten one that size in Gib. We all sat around the kitchen table Mr and Mrs D'Aoust, Donna, Peter and I, with no ceremony, yet total familiarity and friendliness.

What wonderful people!

And yes, I distributed my first matchbooks there. And no doubt l probably bored them to death telling them what that evil gnome, Franco, was doing to us and what Gib was going through.
“Gibraltar huh? I though you guys still lived in caves till Donna told us about it.” Indeed, travelling is a great way to education, I guess, mine especially.

Later that evening Peter drove us in his MG Midget, to the flat rented for us. He turned out to be a really nice guy and to celebrate my arrival he had bought a bottle of Dubonnet and some soda and we toasted to each other, to friendship, to Donna and to EXPO 67.

(to be continued in part 2 of this chapter)