granted, I have been away a bit longer than anticipated. But, you see, when you leave for a week {a week without a smartphone!} your return is heralded by gatherings and meetings and work. Sometimes that time away from an online life is just what your "real" life called for. Now, though, it's time to talk about the awesomeness that was a very long weekend in Montreal.
Things started off with a quick jaunt to the hokey train station in my grandmother's city...one tickettaker/giver/Amtrak person, lots of stairs up to the single carriageway, outdoor seating to wait until the train arrives. That day ended at the Newark airport, getting picked up by my very best friend, before we turned around and headed back to the airport quite early the next morning. I left my computer home alone, with only Pepper the Dog to keep it company {and my parents to take care of Pepper}. The magic of smartphones, though, allowed me to be entertained all day on the train with the usual social media and Pandora.
However, my favorite part of this train journey is my layover at the 30th Street Station in Philadelphia. It's always a big and bustling station, filled with people of all walks of life and all manner of style choices. I was sorely disappointed this trip (and on the return), as the station was much slower and with nearly no interesting style. It was that way when returning home as well. Thankfully, Montreal had plenty of stylish girls & boys and Movember was out in full force.
First off, let's talk food. It wasn't as though anything less was expected. From the first literal bowl of cafe au lait to the final duck confit, Montreal is a food city. I'm sure that any cafe one simply wandered into would provide the best menu available to their clientele. I'm also not recovered from the experience of sitting down in a cute French cafe, ordering something in French, and receiving a delicious, creamy, strong cup of coffee as big as my head. It's a fabulous experience. While
Ms. IHeartNJ & I didn't hit Cafe Myriade (pictured below) everyday, we did spend our subsequent mornings at a barely bigger little cafe just off the Mont Royal metro station with a law school study group, elderly couples, and girlfriends catching up over a Sunday brunch. You'd be amazed by how much walking you can do on top of a croissant and cafe au lait.
One of the other crowning enjoyments of Montreal, along with the French food, is Schwartz's Deli. it doesn't matter if it is snowing out or if you arrive at 2 in the afternoon, you will wait in line outside. If you are lucky, there will be a regular in front of you explaining the procedure to a newbie & all you have to do is listen. You will be seated with people you don't know. Make friends. For two or
maybe three (or four, but only if none of them is at all hungry) people, order a large plate of smoked meat, medium fat, and a pickle apiece. As much rye bread as you want will be offered. Slather on some mustard, pile high with meat, bite, chew, repeat. It's heaven on a plate, but don't stab each other over the final piece of meat. Though the staff is billed as something of the Canadian version of Katz's deli, like everywhere else in Montreal, you won't be hurried through your meal.
It really doesn't matter where you eat, everything will be delicious (even Tim Horton's, the Canadian Dunkin' Donuts, serves a solidly great cup of coffee). I, however, find a grocery store to be a necessary stop on any food-loving person's vacation plans. If you can find a tiny neighborhood one, it is even better. I found a tiny one on the way from the Cote de Neiges metro stop to St. Joseph's Oratory and popped in while my sister enjoyed a coffee. We had the best picnic lunch ever that day. Baguettes, chorizo salami, figs, Quebec apples, and Orangina...more than enough for two for less than nine dollars Canadian.
While the architecture of Montreal is at times old and always beautiful and interesting, barely before that lunch was one of the highlights of my trip. As a Formula One and roadracing fan, I was thrilled to discover than the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve is open to the public as a biking, jogging public park. Literally, one can jump up and down in the gravel trap of the famous hairpin and hoist onesself onto the tire barrier there {who am I kidding? by one I mean I totally did that}.
Also fantastic, at least for an American who keeps ending up in places where they speak English, about eighty-five percent of the conversations on the street are fully in French. Montreal feels very much like France, via the Canadian friendliness. On our first day, students across the city were marching in protest of tuition fee increases. They were gathering in the metro, holding flags and banners, and rushing to not be late to their police-escorted protest. They came toward us as we walked down the sidewalk, chanting and waving their placards. But the sidewalks were kept bare. Those students organizing the march kept the sidewalks clear for regular business to continue, despite their anger and frustration.
Along with a sense of peaceful protest, the men of Montreal seemed fully embracing of Movember...whether it be an excuse to forgo shaving, an extra bit of warmth, or simply a style choice. Across the city, one saw a Gallic shrug to facial hair and the most extraordinary mustaches, beards, and stubble. At the Old Dominion Tavern, every male member of the waitstaff looked like Don Draper's hipster brother. One morning in Mont Royal, I saw a young man with gloriously curly long blonde hair, a barely larger than a pencil mustache, and navy wool coat. The women weren't to be outdone, stomping about the city in tied scarves, either very long or very short hair, tailored trousers and the best outerwear I've seen anywhere.
There was plenty of picture taking, especially on Saturday. Montreal is a city of late weekend nights, so it seems as though the entire city is deserted on Saturday as everyone rests between Friday and their evening plans. It makes of an eerie sense of calm and some lovely shots of empty parks and cleaned statues. We were in the city on Armistice Day, celebrated in Canada as a Crown Commonwealth country far more viscerally than here in the States. Though not to the percentage as in Britain, the red poppy is everywhere, on lapels, purse straps, and bicycle helmets. I tend to think the wearing of the poppy also ties into a desire for Quebec to be a separate country from Canada, with those leaning toward the latter less likely to follow the British tradition, but have no evidence to back it up.
Montreal is a lovely small city, full of charm and charming people. The food is excellent, the metro clean and orderly. Even the street musicians in the metro are organized, both with a union and assigned times for specific stations by the government. Though the following pictures are some of my favorites, you can find my Facebook albums through these links:
Circuit Gilles Villeneuve,
architecture & monumentary,
closeups,
cityscapes,
nature in the city,
munchies & deliciousness, and
nightlights.
{PS You thought I'd forgotten to mention poutine, didn't you? You're wrong...but who would imagine that gravy cheese fries could be so very good?! I have no idea how people in Montreal stay so thin, except that two orders of poutine in three days was enough to put me off of it for a month or two, and that I know what climbing Mont Royal feels like. They just walk off all that potato, cheese curd, beefy goodness. Alas, I gobbled it down too quickly to take a decent picture of any, but it made my first Montreal meal spectacularly good.}
"Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." Garrison Keillor
