Montreal

The bus journey from Ottawa to Montreal is 2 and a half hours and crosses into a new province for me, from Ontario into Quebec Province. During this time I read about the province and the city in my guide book. I learn that French is the official language of Quebec Province and that Montreal is on an island in the St Lawrence River and it is as close to the European coast as it is to Vancouver.

I check into my hostel, which is correctly named Montreal Central. It is more like a small hotel than a hostel, with a pleasant lobby bar. I am staying here for 4 nights and have booked a bed in a mixed 8 bed room – mixed as in male and female, but for the first night I find that I provide the only ‘mix’; it is me and 7 young men. Not a problem, particularly as nobody snores, unless it’s me, which I can’t hear.

Tonight I am meeting up with Mary and Ali who I met around the campfire at the Lake Louise hostel when I was there with Brigitte. They taught me how to toast marshmallows and make them into a sandwich with chocolate and biscuits. They live in the suburbs of Montreal and they collect me from my hostel and we take a short walk in the streets around the hostel and thery point out various locations to help me get my bearings and make helpful suggestions for things I might want to see in my time here. They tell me a bit about what it is like to live as anglophiles in French-Canada. They take me to a great vegan restaurant which has the laid-back informal atmosphere of a diner and we share 3 choices from the menu.

Dinner with Mary and Ali

For desert we visit a frozen yoghurt place, called Yeh! which is a favourite of theirs. It’s painted bright pink and it's help yourself to the various flavours from the yoghurt machines and then add toppings of your choice. I go for2 flavours; cheesecake and black cherry, with chocolate raisins on top and we sit in the front of the shop to eat, convincing ourselves that it’s all completely healthy of course.

Yeh! Frozen Yoghurt

After we have eaten we head for the top of Mont Royal for a lookout over the city at night, but on the way we stumble across a lively Peruvian festival in a park. It is just coming to an end, but we just catch the last song from the band and blend in with the crowd of dancers with a few salsa steps and some arm waving.

Peruvian Festival

Then we drive up the hill and join the crowds who like us have come to admire the city at night. There is a large open plaza and people lean against the balustrade, looking inwards to have their photo taken, or outwards to the beautiful view of the lit-up city.

Montreal at Night

Looking at the View

On the way back down the hill we stop at another lookout for a slightly different view. This stop is party-central and young people lean against car bonnets with music playing. Racoons scavenge fearlessly among the cars and one is even head down in a rubbish bin. We all laugh as I comment that the racoons smell rather like foxes and Mary corrects me to say that what I am smelling is pot, not racoons!

Racoon

Mary and Ali drop me back at my hostel and we say our goodbyes. I have had a great evening. It was lovely to get to know them a little better and a great introduction to their city. Maybe they will come and visit me back home some time. I hope so.

Just round the corner from my hostel is the gay village. I walk through it on a Monday morning, so am probably not seeing it at its most lively. There is a sculpture that you have to stand in front of for the individual letters to line up so that you can read it. I think it says something like:

‘We believe the differences enrich the village rather than divide it’

Gay Village

Gay Village Sculpture

I walk down to the old port on the St Lawrence River. As I walk the streets I hear French being spoken more than English. At the entrance to the port is a clock tower which has been here since 1912 as a memorial to Canadian merchant seamen who lost their lives in the First World War and then to all Canadian sailors who lost their lives in combat. A container ship goes past against the fast flow of the river heading for the modern port.

Marina and Clock Tower

Container Ship on the St Lawrence River

Clock Tower

The tower is open and 192 steps lead up past the clock face to an observation deck. The last 50 steps or so past the clock face are via two narrow spiral staircases and I concentrate carefully on the steps to keep calm enough to complete the climb.

Behind the Clock Face

Views from the Clock Tower

At the other end of the old portarea is the start of the canal.  The success of this enterprise helped make Montreal the biggest inland port in the world.

Canal

Back from the river front is the old town of Montreal, which feels very French. The sun beats down and everyone chooses the shady side of the street and seeks out the shade in the squares and parks where they can. In the main tourist streets people sit outside the restaurants under the shade of awnings and umbrellas. I sit in the square in front of the Bascilica of Notre Dame listening to two musicians play. Sitting on the bench behind me two young women chat about buying a dress – not a fancy prom dress, just a good dress that can be worn on any occasion, like going to a restaurant. The words of their conversation switch naturally between English and French even within the same sentence.   

Basilica of Notre Dame

Musicians in the Place d’Armes

 

Fountain in Place de la Dauversiare

The statue of Nelson is the city’s oldest monument (pre-dating the bigger English Trafalgar Square version) and was funded by anglophone Montrealers who were delighted by Nelson’s defeat of the French at Trafalgar.

Statue of Nelson and Place Jacques-Cartier

Rue Saint-Paul

Marche Bonsecours

My next significant encounter takes place at a table outside a coffee shop. While drinking a coffee I get talking to Steve who gives me some great tips for where to find good bagels and the local delicacy of smoked meat. Then he tells me that if I have 15 minutes he can give me some advice that will be a gift that will change my life. I am in no hurry and am happy to hear what he has to say. He talks at me for half an hour, telling me such things as the importance of choosing the correct path through life; that the world’s great people such as Ghandi, Jesus Christ, Nelson Mandela inevitably had enemies; that decisions should never be made from an emotional place; that everyone will die and that we are all remembered for the decisions we make rather than the wealth we accumulate and finally that I should take at least 1 hour every week to remember these things. Then he holds my hand and says a prayer for me to help me live by these tenets. He says meetings such as ours are never a matter of chance; that God has spoken through him and that something great has happened here today. I thank him and then go up the street pondering the encounter to buy one of his recommended bagels.

I take a walk up Mont Royal to get a day-time view over the city and to leave the busy streets behind for a while and enjoy the relative quiet of the park. I sit on the grass at the top to eat my bagel and a squirrel comes to share it with me. He is brave enough to come right up to my feet and almost reads my map.

View of Montreal from Mont Royal

Squirrel

Outside residential buildings there are rubbish bins and bag on the pavement, not in a great pile kind of way, just waiting for collection. Some of the parks, away from the main tourist areas, are scruffy and rather unkempt. As a pedestrian it is important to watch your step as the pavements are not so well-kept and can trip you up. There aren't pedestrian lights at all road junctions and to begin with I play follow-my-leader with people who seem to know how to cross a road, as I am not sure how to read the traffic lights safely, as vehicles can often turn right on a red light.

 There are many beggars on the streets and colourful characters hang out in parks, looking as if they have no-where else to go. There is a lot of graffiti art and I pass a police car that has pulled up for the officers to talk to a couple of young men who are painting on the pavement.  It all adds up to an edgier side to Montreal than I have seen or felt in other Canadian cities.

Graffiti

 

Grungey Retro Shop

The beautiful old town houses have metal steps leading to the first floor. This is where the family entered, up and away from the mud and dirt of the original streets. Most of these houses have now been divided into apartments.

Old Town Houses and Rubbish for Collection

On my last evening I wander down the road to go to the supermarket and pass a bunch of policemen on motorcycles parked up on an empty hot just by the hostel. There are loads of people gathered in the park and something is going on. At the back of the park there are mounted police and police on foot wearing helmets. At first I think it is a festival, but it doesn't seem quite right for that and I realise it is the beginnings of a demonstration. When I come back from the supermarket the crowd is banging on drums and anything that will make a noise and a group of policemen are escorting a couple of demonstrators off site.

Police at a Demonstration