Montreal

The allure of Montreal was to experience France without the jet lag; a short flight to cobblestone streets, high fashion and haute cuisine. Expecting a more polished and cosmopolitan version of other Canadian outposts I’ve visited, I found Montreal quite typical in its rustic “up north” sensibilities. For sure, traces of European attitude abound – from its café culture to well-dressed locals, but the backdrop to this sophistication was more of a bohemian gritty art scene than what I expected. I liken it to DC’s 14^th St and U St Corridor with its vertical palette of graffiti art and ethnic restaurants.

We were fortunate as our friend Guylaine is a Francophile Montréaler, and provided us with a hands-on walking tour of the “Real Montreal”. We met up at the Mont-Royal metro where she commuted in on her electric scooter, a common sight on the streets. We started our day exploring the Plateau neighborhood, an established hipster hang-out complete with multitudes with ethnic restaurants (Middle Eastern, Caribbean and eastern European) and modern furniture shops akin to New York’s SoHo. Move north and you’ve entered Mile End – transitioning neighborhoods from shops with pricy organic wines and produce to truly sustainable goods such as vintage clothing sold on the street and vegetables grown in someone’s flower box. Not quite gentrified and maintaining its “street cred”, this neighborhood is populated by locals who are stubbornly prideful. We lingered at 2 cafes, each claiming the best coffee in Montreal, each with a distinct personality representing the friendly feud between Plateau and Mile End residents.

From here the road was less travelled, as we walked along train tracks and passed abandoned industrial buildings on our way past Outremount and into Little Italy. It was a showcase of Ferrari’s, Alfa Romeo’s and Lamborghini’s, as if it were flaunting it’s most iconic exports. Italian flags waved from every building while the street scene displayed a true-to-Italy sense of chaos. The highlight was the fabulous open air market Marche Jean-Talon spanning acres of impossibly gorgeous produce, cheeses and flowers. Bison and Reindeer on a skewer? I felt my vegan tendencies slipping away as I sampled every local cuisine I could get my hands on, hydrated with Micro brewery samples in plastic cups.

After amassing a picnic bounty of the usual suspects (baguette, tomato, cheese, pastries) we made our way back down to Parc du Mont-Royal – the Central Park of the city (in fact designed by Frederick Law Olmsted). You can’t very well be lazy if you want to enjoy this treasure; we wheezed our way up through lush winding trails and ascended an endless wooden stairway to its peak. You’re greeted with a full city and water-way panorama from the terraced steps of an enormous rustic visitor lodge and picnic grounds. Splendid! A special mention goes to a few other must-do’s we experienced along the way. Schwartz’s Deli (be prepared to wait in line much like Georgetown Cupcake), Montreal-style bagels fresh and hot off the rollers and Portuguese custard tarts (just like in Belem). Regrettably, we missed partaking in Poutine, French fries slathered in gravy and cheese curds. It looks disgusting, but you can imagine how good it must taste after a late night out with friends.

We stayed in Old Montreal, partly because of its cobblestone streets and Old World charm, but also because it’s where the stylish boutique hotels are located. We had no desire to lodge at a high-rise Hilton in the business district and wanted to freely stroll among delightful historic architecture and countless eateries. Our hotel, The Gualt, was an imposing but elegant grey-stoned historic building tucked away in a quite passage just off the main thoroughfare. Its lobby was sleek and inviting with a fireplace and wrap-around library shelves filled with the latest fashion, design and architecture publications. True to the hotels reviews, the staff was remarkably attentive – from the welcome espresso to the complimentary iPad to a guided tour of the historic building’s unoccupied penthouse suites. Highly recommended. Around the corner was our breakfast haunt, Olive & Gourmando. This bakery/café exceeded expectations in every way – the Parisian style décor, French Jazz, and ridiculously delicious food; the kind that leaves you to wonder how that simple soup and sandwich had such intense flavors. The wide-brimmed coffee mugs filled with Café Americano, the endless wall of pastries (my greatest gastronomical pleasure)… enjoyed to the soundtrack of French–speaking patrons over a Stephane Grappelli backdrop. Could it be that some people get to live this life every day?

Personal observations on the locals: They’re well-dressed. I often felt out of place without a stylish scarf and slim-fitting suit. Women of all ages wore boots (of course) and couture winter coats despite the unseasonably mild weather. They’re thin, despite living off of meats, cheeses, croissants and espresso. The difference – it’s local, organic, and not packaged and processed – it’s real food. They’re active – despite the weather, people are walking everywhere. There seems to be that European lifestyle intact where you spend a great deal of time traversing outdoors and meeting up with friends. Not exactly difficult to romanticize, and easy to assimilate into over the course of a brief stay.