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  • Man, was I grateful to Alexandre and his sons that day. I had been limping my way through Montreal in search of a place to rest -- and when I say "limping" I mean "crawling on all fours". My sciatica was killing me and by the time I reached Alexandre's brasserie I was bent in half, on the verge of (not-so-manly) tears.

    As soon as I got in, I knew I had stricken gold. The place was inviting, cozy and was buzzing with just enough hustle and bustle to give it a great vibe. Most of the patrons were Suits On Their Lunch Break -- they all looked like they were holding on to their jobs just so they could continue to hang at Alexandre's.

    The food was great-value-for-money -- your classic no-frills brasserie fare -- and the Chablis (a lot of it) made the back pain go away. I was happy.

    But what made that lunch so memorable was what was happening at the table next to mine: it was occupied by a woman and a man in their late 40s, fresh out of a board meeting I bet, both looking sleek and attractive, and they were in what looked like a serious conversation... Except they were discussing the merits of "Buffy" and "Battlestar Galactica". That's right. I could not believe what I was hearing. I was awestruck. At that moment I thought the Canadians were the coolest people on earth and that Montreal was the hottest place to be.

    That Montreal trip was the last straw that broke this camel's back. I went back to London and lived completely horizontal for a couple of months until I had surgery.
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