… do as the Canucks.

I don’t know when, but long after the Aztecs left, just before Montezuma was revenged, yet way after the ‘Mexico 1970’ World Cup in which Pele was the star, there came a new invasion of Caribbean Mexcio resulting in a new dominant power in the area There was no war, no coup, no meteor strike like the one wot killed the dinosaurs (hit the Yucatan… a long time ago), just, kind’a… death by tourism.

This shouldn’t be a problem. Canadians are the nicest, gentlest, liberal-est, most Trudeau-ist bunch of calm, cold, north-pole-dancers you could ever wish to find. They’re just nice. You go to Vancouver, hop over to Toronto, breeze into Banff, you’ll meet nothing but pleasant, polite, honest, decent Canadians.

Yet should you venture to Quebec… should you enter the land of the ‘Francophone’, you meet a totally different type of Canadian altogether. The look similar to the ‘Anglophones’, they even sound the same if they deign to speak to you in English. But when left to themselves they change… they morph… they degenerate… into something different. More sinister, more evil, more rude, more sunbed-stealing, and, worst of all… they speak FRENCH to each other.

And I’m aware that when anyone anywhere is speaking French, its always going to end in a war, a fight, an argument or a World Cup final loss. That’s just the way it is. But you’re thinking of ‘French French’. The French of Brigit Bardot, of Catherine Deneuve, of little-shit Macron, Sacha Distel; that wonderfully rich and sensual sound which leaves your knees weak and your goalkeeper floundering (Spurs joke, which really isn’t fucking funny any more).

Whereas I’m talking about Canuck French. Which sounds at times like Russian, at times like Portuguese and all the time like its being spoken by someone who learned French on an online written course with no conversation included. It bears as little resemblance to real French as Dick van Dyck’s ‘cockney’ in Mary Poppins did to real English. The words might be similar but the sound is offensive, lacks feeling, emotion, nuance and anything which might be considered beneficial or ‘nice’.

And our resort, spectacularly wonderful in every other respect, was about 70% occupied by Québécoises. Because for a 4 hour flight they can gain about 40 degrees of Celsius. So I understand their motivation. Doesn’t mean I have to like them.

Happy 2023. I’m at the airport waiting to fly.

A xxxx