(3 of 5)
To guarantee that schedules were met by the Babylonian multitude of artists, architects and workmen scurrying to populate the barren site with dazzling structures, the Expo organizers programmed a computer with a "critical path method" that dictated deadlines and spewed instantaneous information about the progress on each project. The Canadians meant business too; when exhibitors lagged, Expo Deputy Commissioner Robert Shaw dispatched several aides to spur them on. "We told them to get cracking," says Shaw, "or pack up and go home." Last week on opening day, miraculously the only major attractions not yet completed were Venezuela's stainless-steel box building, Yugoslavia's opposing triangles and Mexico's starlike pavilion.
Minirails & Heel Bars. To avoid mistakes made at previous fairs, Expo officials visited Brussels, Seattle and New York, later referred to notes listing the errors and misjudgments made at each. Expo, like New York, will run a whopping deficit, now estimated at $137,747,040, which will be underwritten by the Canadian federal, provincial and city governments. Unlike New York, Canada recognizes that it should contribute something to the visitors' comfort and personal needs.
Transportation to—and through—Expo is swift and efficient. The new Metro covers the distance from downtown in just ten minutes, costs only 30¢. The free Expo express on the grounds zings people from one section to another, while a ride on one of the 32 elevated minirail trains costs only 50¢, offers stops at major pavilions and whizzes right through the U.S. pavilion. To prevent maddening waits in lines, 24 computerized electronic boards are spotted about the grounds flashing facts about where the crowds are so that fairgoers can avoid the crush. And where there are long queues, clowns and troubadours will be dispatched to entertain the waiting.
To take care of the influx of visitors, a travel bureau, called Logexpo, has been set up, complete with computer, to direct out-of-towners to Montreal's 174,500 listed hotel, motel and private rooms. So far, Logexpo has been able to confirm reservations within ten days, also plans to patrol against room-rate gouging. Expo has its own phone exchange—EXP—which is large enough for a city of 20,000. There are also four emergency-room clinics, 24-hour helicopter service to Montreal hospitals, and even "heel bars" to serve women who snap off their high heels.
Caviar & Moon Rocks. Admission is $2.40, and inside the prices are strictly economy class; officials estimate $8 a day as the average tab. Food and drink at Expo's 39 restaurants and 66 snack bars are varied enough to suit any palate. Cuba will import fresh seafood daily and serve it with a banana liqueur. The Russians have laid in 15,000 gallons of vodka. At the French Canadian Le Village one can quaff tumblers of caribou (a dynamite drink made of red wine and white whisky), and in Tunisia's elegant little pavilion there is Boukha, a fig brandy, to wash down couscous, a wheat-based national dish.