Our Trip to Canada: Exploring Montreal, Part 2

We left Quebec City fairly early by vacation standards, having tidied up the house and packed everything into the truck. It was a smooth ride back, punctuated by a stop for coffee (and in my case, chai) at a cheerful little place in Drummondville. When we got back to Montreal Geoff and Dave dropped us off at our new hotel.

Staying at the previous hotel again was not possible because a) it is right next to McGill and b) the Montreal Jazz Festival was underway, and lodgings get scarce with that combination of conditions. Instead we found a small family run hotel in what appeared to be an old house that had been converted into rooms. Or maybe it was always a hotel. Hard to say. We climbed up the steps to the entrance, thankful that we pack light, and took the room that was available rather than waiting for them to clean the one they were planning to give us since we were there a bit early. The available room turned out to be on the top floor, up two very narrow and steep flights of stairs (see above, re: thankful). It was small but perfectly functional and it had a television for World Cup viewing so we were set.

Eventually lunchtime rolled around and we decided to explore the neighborhood a bit, two activities that can always be combined in a city because that’s kind of what cities are like. We found a Lebanese restaurant a block or two away and eventually landed on a couple of menu items that they actually had in stock. This was a running theme in the Lebanese restaurants of Montreal, and I’m not sure whether this means that they’re bad at inventory or just so popular that they can’t keep up. We had a nice lunch by the window watching the good people of Montreal walk by.

A few doors away we found a paper store, one of those increasingly beleaguered shops that sells writing implements and everything connected to them, and you have to love these places. Four hundred kinds of pencils! Tiny sharpeners you could lose in an espresso cup! Pens you need a loan to purchase! Paper in every conceivable weight and color! The entire existence of such stores is a throwback to an earlier and more analogue time and there should be government programs aimed at preserving them for future generations.

From there we wandered through several different pharmacies looking for a particular brand of something, without success, stopped at the Place d’Art’s subway entrance looking for a way into the underground city that runs under Montreal, also without success, paused at a Tim Horton’s for donuts, because if you’re in Canada you are legally required to buy at least one item from a Tim Horton’s before you leave, and found a souvenir shop so I could get my keychain.

You can always spot the souvenir shops in Montreal because they are entirely festooned in hockey merch. Everywhere you look there are hats, flags, patches, magnets, mugs, and so on with the logo of the Montreal Canadiens plastered onto them. I know there is at least one other professional sports franchise in Montreal – a Canadian-league football team called the Alouettes – but they don’t seem to have made any dent in the collective conscious of the souvenir-buying public. There are more items representing the Quebec Nordiques – a hockey franchise that played in Quebec City, three hours’ drive to the north, and skipped out to Colorado in 1995 – than there are for the Alouettes. You have to wonder what the Alouettes people think about being the third franchise in a two-franchise town.

The other thing we found at the souvenir shop was a magnet in the shape of a Quebec license plate with the Nuclear Bomb of Québecois profanity printed on it. The word is “tabarnak” and apparently it means “fuck you” and not in a good way. You know how sometimes, depending on intonation and familiarity, “fuck you” can be a sign of affection? (No? Is that just a Northeast Corridor thing? Maybe?) This does not work with tabarnak. Don’t try it. You will not succeed, and you will not succeed in a very dramatic sort of way. But you can get it on a fridge magnet if you want, a situation so patently absurd that naturally we had to do that. It is stuck on our fridge even as I type, cheerfully broadcasting its message of obscenity and antisocial graces at anyone who walks by. Je me souviens indeed.

Later in our wandering we discovered a giant mall that actually did have an entrance to the underground city so we poked around for a bit. The underground city has shops and restaurants and long walkways from one subway station or other entrance to another and you can pretty much get to most of downtown Montreal without going up to the street level, which is probably handy in February. It was one of the things we wanted to see, and thus we checked it off our list.

We also found the Jazz Festival grounds and explored those for a bit before returning to the hotel to hang out for a while.

Our plan for the evening was to go back to the Jazz Festival at a time when the music was playing, and at some point Dave came by to collect us and we walked over. The Festival is spread out over a couple of city blocks that they close off so you can walk around without dodging cars, and all the concerts within that perimeter are free. There are apparently other shows around town in other venues where you need to buy tickets, but that was not on our agenda. We walked over to a fairly good-sized stage at one end of the Festival and found a clear spot in the grass to sit, and eventually Mei Semones and her band came out to play.

After the show we found Geoff by a different stage and then went in search of dinner because it was about that time. There were a bunch of booths to choose from and we took our food over to a seating area next to the main walkway. Eventually these guys wandered by:

The big stage had a concert going on when we walked by and we stood there for a while taking it in.

When they finished we went over to a smaller stage and found a picnic table where we could sit, but after a while it became clear that the guys onstage were just farting around without any particular goal in mind and that gets old quickly so we headed out back to our hotel.

The next day we met Geoff and Dave at the Café Mintar, a great little place with exactly one table big enough to seat four people. It’s way up in what is effectively a loft at the back end of the place, and it actually seats about 8-10 so eventually we had another group join us and that went well.

From there Dave walked us over to the Montreal Beax Arts Museum, completing the set of Beaux Arts Museums for this trip. It’s four floors of art arranged with the oldest collections – medieval and Renaissance – at the top. I hared off on my own to see what there was to see and quickly decided just to head up to the top and work my way down. There were some lovely things to see.

As I got closer to the present the styles changed, of course, but there were a bunch of things there that I liked.

This piece was located in one of the stairwells on the outside of the building, and the part that isn’t obvious is that it came with a soundtrack – a slow, melodic sort of ambient music that worked pretty well in the large open space.

Across the street there was a design exhibit that was interesting.

It is very strange to go to a museum and find bits of technology on exhibit that you remember purchasing new. Old, old, old.

From there we met up with Geoff on McGill’s campus and hung out there in a light rain for a while before heading back into the city to have lunch at a place called the Flame Grill and then walking back to our hotel for a siesta. We have discovered in our travels in recent years that it is good to have some downtime in the middle of the day, especially if it is a particularly hot day. The hotel was air-conditioned and the World Cup was on and thus it was a good afternoon. We watched Belgium make an astonishing comeback against Senegal and I ended up essentially liveblogging it with Fran, who came to the US as an exchange student from Belgium way back before the pandemic and lived with us for almost a year. We were both pleased that Belgium had won, though their subsequent dismantling of the US team (while appropriate, given Convicted Felon Donald J. Trump’s corrupt interference on behalf of the US) was disheartening from my perspective. Hey – 48 teams and all but one go home early, and all that. The Belgians went home in the round after that one.

Afterward we walked over to Geoff and Dave’s for dinner and watched the US defeat Bosnia in World Cup action. It was here that Geoff and Dave got confirmation that their house in the US had officially sold, so there was some celebration, as appropriate.

For our final full day in Montreal Geoff and Dave picked us up at the hotel and took us to Westmount, where we revisited the bagel place and found some lovely bread and pastries at a local bakery before heading over to the Atwater Market.

The Atwater Market is one of those big, mostly open-air places where vendors set up stalls to sell everything from produce to cheeses and meats to flowers. There are a bunch of stalls ringing the building, and some storefronts inside the building as well, and we had a grand time exploring and wishing we could get things back into the US. I found a place that sold the cheese Geoff likes, and both Kim and I separately found the place that sold the Florentine toothpaste that is her favorite as it comes in many interesting flavors unknown in the US. I found olives and chinotto and a very good chocolate bread and if there is a better way to spend a morning than in a market like this one I haven’t found it.

We spent the afternoon mostly hanging out with Geoff and Dave at their apartment not doing much of anything, which is a great way to spend time on a vacation. Eventually their friend Pinar came over and we headed out to Behesht, an Iranian restaurant where we met Pinar’s mother Meral for dinner. They are lovely people and were happy to hear of Lauren’s visit to their home country of Turkey last year. We will definitely have to see them again next time we’re in Quebec! The waiter came over to see if we wanted menus and Geoff said no, here’s what we want, and it turned out he was absolutely right about that. Everything on that plate was delicious and it was more than enough to feed the lot of us.

We got up way too early the next morning. Geoff and Dave picked us up and took us to the airport where we said our goodbyes, sailed through both Security and the US Customs station there without issue or delay, and waited while our flight was delayed by an hour or so. It was the All Baby, All The Time flight (including a cat in a little pink carrier) and this time my window seat actually came with a window. It was an easy trip home.

We’ll be back, Quebec!

Our Trip to Canada: Exploring Quebec City, Part 2

It turns out that there are a surprising number of things to do in Quebec City, and we did our best to get to as many as we could. That said, the next day started out in a very leisurely way as we all drifted out into the kitchen to have breakfast as we saw fit to do so. It’s nice to be able to ease your way into the day without feeling like you’ve been shot out of a cannon.

Our first stop for the day was the Quebec City Beaux Arts Museum, a fairly large and spacious place with large brass elevators straight out of The Wizard of Oz. The big draw that day was an exhibit on Hyperrealism, which as far as I could tell was basically about sculptures of people or bits thereof – often life-sized, but both bigger and smaller as well – that were crafted to look exactly like what they represented themselves to be, kind of like three-dimensional photographs. For example, the first thing you see when you walk into the exhibit is this:

Well, almost that. Geoff does not come with the museum. This is what we saw, but you will probably just see the statue if you go, unless Geoff goes back for another visit.

I spent a lot of time in that room because a) I tend to go through exhibits much more quickly than everyone around me and this is where the exhibit began and ended so it was a natural resting point, and b) behind the sculpture and just barely visible in this photo there was a short movie that covered some of the larger trends in Western art regarding realistic vs stylized artwork, from the Ancient Greeks down to, well, yesterday, and it was pretty interesting to watch. Also, there was a bench where you could sit while doing so, and that had to count for something.

The exhibit took you in a big circle from that room into other rooms and past any number of sculptures, some of which I thought were fun or interesting and some of which I did not but that’s art for you. My personal favorites were the Depression-Era Breadline and the Banana Lady (not their real titles, but so it goes), but there were others that were worth noting as well such as the Old Woman With The Baby. The sculpture of Andy Warhol’s Head probably was designed to send me a message as an observer, but I have to admit that mostly what I got out of it was that Andy Warhol would have been really creepy at that scale.

I ended up going around the whole exhibit maybe two or three times while Kim, Geoff, and Dave did their thing. What can I say? I’m just like that. Best to let me get on with it and find me when you’re done.

Aside from the Hyperrealism exhibit there were other floors with art to see. My personal favorites were the painting of the chicken, mostly because it struck me as vaguely ridiculous in the way chickens are; the Inuit family, since no self-respecting Canadian museum doesn’t have a section devoted to the Inuit as far as I could tell and that piece seemed the most interesting of the lot; and the Tubes Of Many Colors that were suspended over the outdoor courtyard and made a nice contrast with the grey stone church next door.

Eventually we all met up in the giant (seriously – huge) lobby of the museum and walked over toward Av. Cartier, a festive looking street full of Decorative Round Things, restaurants, and shops of many kinds.

Having gotten toward lunchtime during our visit to the art museum, our first order of business was to find a place that would have good food. We ended up in a Canadian version of an Irish pub, where we found a table by the window so we could watch the world go by as we ate.

We started with poutine for the table. One of my guiding principles of travel is that you should Do The Thing In The Place – if you’re going to go somewhere, you should try to see, eat, and do the things that people do there, if you can. That’s why you’re there, after all. This is why I enjoy going into grocery stores just as much as tourist sites when I travel. And poutine is about as Quebec as it gets when it comes to food. The problem with it, though, at least from my perspective, is that it is made up of three things that do not go together in any combination – French fries, beef gravy, and cheese curds, all of which are fine on their own but when mixed together create a dish that you can have my share of with my compliments. I did try some, because I was In The Place and this was definitely a Thing To Do There, but mostly I let the others enjoy it.

I did better with the Smoked Meat Sandwich, which is a Montreal thing but is apparently spreading throughout Quebec these days. It’s basically pastrami on rye with mustard and pickles, and it is indeed a lovely thing to have in front of you when you are hungry. I can heartily recommend a Smoked Meat Sandwich for anyone who has the opportunity to eat one.

After lunch we walked around the area for a bit thinking we might find the Quebec Parliament building, but that turned out to be a bit further away than we thought so we saved that for another day and headed back to where we’d parked the truck, because our next stop was definitely not within walking distance.

The Chute-Montmorency – Montmorency Falls, in English – is a really impressive place. You approach via a long walkway along the water as the land falls away down to the level of the river and eventually you reach a stairway where you can either go up to get to the bridge that crosses the falls at the top or you can go down a bit to get to an observation deck – one of many that they’ve helpfully scattered across the entire area. Naturally we did both. First, we went down to the deck, where you can get a really nice view of the falls themselves as well as the stairway across the river that you know you’re going to have to walk down at some point. You get a good view of the bridge as well.

From there we went back up the stairs to where we started and then continued further up until we got to the bridge over the falls. There is something to be said about being on a bridge not that far above a waterfall. It probably involves words like “insanity” and “loud,” but it has to be said that the view is amazing. A lot of people stop on the bridge to take selfies and I found myself serving as a photographer to several of them so they could all be in the shots. People are friendly up there on the bridge. In the third photo below you can see the observation deck we were on in the first set of photos.

Across the river and down to the left – a bit upstream, in other words – there’s another spot where you can take photos and generally try to take it all in.

From there we walked along a trail until we found the top of the stairs and then headed down. They’re actually really well-designed stairs, with rest areas and observation decks liberally scattered along the way so you don’t have to feel like you’re on a forced march to the center of the earth. It’s fun to stop and take it all in from the various angles as you go.

Toward the bottom there is a juncture, and you can either go to the left, toward the open water, or to the right, toward the platform at the base of the falls, which is a much wetter direction to travel. I was the only one of the group who decided to go that route, and I can confirm that it was indeed very wet. But the view was lovely.

It’s all neatly laid out here.

From there you have to get back up to where you started, but fortunately they have a little skycar that you can take.

The rest of the evening was spent back at the house, hanging out, doing laundry, scrolling and reading. We ended up getting pizza from an Iranian restaurant nearby and it was very tasty. It was a good way to wind down after a busy day.

The next day started slowly as well, as vacation days should, but eventually we got back in the pickup truck and headed back to Old Quebec City. Quebec City has a lot of fascinating architecture as you drive along – rounded corners, mid-century modern, turrets, and so forth. It is not a cookie-cutter sort of place, at least the bits we were in, and I have to say I appreciated that.

We found our parking spot by the Museum of the Plains of Abraham again and headed back up the hill toward the Citadel but our goal this morning was not actually to go to the Citadel but instead to go to the promenade nearby the Citadel. It steps down from the high point and then follows along the fort, with lovely views of the riverfront including what we eventually determined to be two Canadian Coast Guard icebreakers before descending slowly toward the river level though we stopped well before we got all the way down.

And at that point you’re back at the Hotel Frontenac. All roads in Quebec City lead to the Hotel Frontenac. There was an acrobat act plying its trade in front of the statue by the hotel and we watched that for a bit before moving on.

Old Quebec City is a very nice if very steep place to walk around and there are a great many places that cater to the sorts of tourists that we were. We found one about halfway down the stairs in the second photo that sold a wide variety of syrups and maple-based alcoholic beverages which were surprisingly tasty so I bought a very small bottle of something I could take home to The Land of the Free without falling afoul of the volumes of rules and regulations that we accept without question these days, I suppose. I did make it home with the bottle intact and at some point I will have to open it in good company.

We had lunch at an Italian restaurant before heading down to the river and hanging out by the cannon that were helpfully guarding the shoreline.

Rather than walk back up to the upper city we found the funicular and took that. I’ve been on a bunch of these now – Quebec City, Dubuque, Pittsburgh, Porto – and they’re always fascinating to me. Not sure why, since the principles they operate on are dead simple. But even so.

From there we continued our way into the city, stopping at a coffeeshop for refreshment and a bookstore because one should always stop at bookstores.

Our final stop of the day was to walk over to the Quebec Parliament building, which was much more accessible from that location than it had been the previous day. It’s an impressive thing, and you have to through a number of layers of security before they issue you a little clippy badge and point you to the elevator. Right by one of the checkpoints is a big sign warning you of the various things you can’t bring in with you and I was amused by the fact that the Québecois phrase for brass knuckles (which they translated into English as “knuckle duster,” a phrase that no American has spoken since Calvin Coolidge left office) is “Poing Américain.” We’re known for our brass knuckles in Quebec, apparently.

It’s a grand sort of building in many ways and utilitarian in others, but it was fun to walk around.

Down one hallway they have a long row of portraits of former prime ministers of Quebec, my favorite of whom was this guy:

There is no other language this man could possibly speak aside from either Québecois or continental French. You could practically smell the Galois on his trench coat. Honestly, I was surprised that this was a former prime minister and not a weary homicide detective with three cups of coffee in him, an ex-wife in Toronto, and a commanding officer trying to get him to take some leave even though he feels he needs to crack this case before he goes. It was the most wonderful formal portrait of a government official I have ever seen.

Back at the house we made dinner for ourselves while hanging out and generally not doing much besides slowly starting to pack up for the next day’s journey back to Montreal, and thus a lovely day comes to an end.