30~A Quick Stint in the Montreal Metropolis

An early morning start and the bag of pain to contend with, I headed back to the metropolis that is Montreal, noting that Quebec City had a village-y feel compared to this mega city. This is the point that the poetical bubble I had immersed myself in began to break down. I put sown the Anne saga and watched the rain stream down the windows; the gorgeous holiday-esque sunshine that I was spoilt with in Quebec had finally caved. It was even rainier in Montreal. I foolishly thought I had my bearings. It was a bit of an ordeal; rain, bag, rush hour, subway break down, walking, sweating. Not pretty. I realised finally I was close, a man in an apron who was smoking and evidently on a break spurred me on. I must have looked destitute. "Talk to me," he demanded gently and told me I was not far from where I needed to be. He squeezed my shoulder and I carried on in a completely different spirit. Touched by him reaching out, just when I felt like giving up. Jean (the airbnb guy I stayed with during my first stint here) greeted me with two kisses and an exclamation of, "You look like a wet dog!" He helped me with my sodden Converse and bag and it felt pretty cool to be back to this familiar spot and in Jean's care.

Jean had been super busy with all sorts of incredible guests; he has worked in the service industry and it is telling in how he conducts his airbnb hub. Neil, an interesting Irish bloke was in one of the rooms and Cecile, a girl from Switzerland arrived shortly after me. Jean loves it. He likes the fact that the world literally arrives on his doorstep. His passion and knowledge of Montreal, his care for his guests make this an awesome little city spot. Cecile and I made friends immediately and went to the Portugese restaurant that I had enjoyed the first time round together. We shared food and stories and it was set- we would hang out in Montreal.

The next day we set off with different agendas with an arrangement to meet at 'Shambala', a Tibetan restaurant recommended by Jeff back in Cape Breton. We were both scuppered by the rain. I happened across a wonderful little spot where I devoured a crepe with a caramel butter sauce and Cecile in her confinement app-ed me her serendipitous discovery.

Unrelenting rain resulted in a long stay (4 hours) in my cafe; blogging, people watching and ordering little bites off the menu. I got chatting to the waitress who was a traveller too. She was between worlds: Brazil and Montreal. There was a man involved and she was unsure of her next move. She said now that mid-forties she was unsure if transient life style and massive change was what she wanted. She was shocked at my age, supposing me to be mid-twenties. She said I was "a god blessed child". This is what an elderly woman had said to her when she met her on her travels. She had told the elderly woman that she was a traveller, had not settled and was a little sad to not have children in her life. The woman had held her hand and said how beautifully lucky she was to be free to travel and she was a "god blessed child". My cosy and unexpected spot:

My intention had been to discover a neighbourhood called Mile End. It was not meant to be and this was a perfect spot for the afternoon. The rain had finally ceased and the sun came out. I met Cecile and we enjoyed Tibetan food, a first for the both of us:

There was so much happening in the city while we were there. We wandered a street festival. 

We meandered to a music festival in the downtown part of the city, called the Francophile.

When the rain started again, we went underground and happened upon some amazing performers that were stopping a lot of people in their tracks. 

Cecile was just my type of girl. We would meet in Toronto. I had a day left and she went on her way. I was determined to hit Mile End and wanted to get up to Mont Royal and enjoy the view. I had a ridiculous day of walking. Jean reckons I covered at least 15 km- 20km. The sun kept creeping out and I got so lost. I ended up in an amazing cemetery.

At one point I just sat on a rock and was close to giving up. But I really wanted to see Mont Royal. A kind man, walked by and pointed me in the right direction. The climb and hike I had to undertake, well, it was all worth it. I got to the top of Mont Royal, a talented piano player providing an epic soundtrack to accompany a special view. 

I stayed for a couple hours and lay. Listening to the piano and reading Anne. I was back in a very happy place. I had made it and I could survey the city where my sister had been born. I was leaving the next morning and looking forward to the next part of my trip in Ontario.

I left Montreal early the next day. It was gorgeous. 

I hit the Megabus and immediately made a friend. We chatted the journey away. He was a fellow Brit and had interesting stories about the Navy and the work he did. We both had enjoyed a quick stint in Montreal and all the wonderful things going on in the city. They really cram the summer months full of stuff to take the edge off the isolating winters. Before I knew it, I was in Toronto and disembarking the bus. Everything was about to be super easy- I was being met by Mama Wolff's pal from back in the day and I was staying with her for a week. Happy days- no negotiating public transport in a new city, no lugging of the bloody bag. No quick stint, either. A whole week in one place, a certain luxuriance in that. Oakville, Toronto I am ready for you...