Montreal, Mary and Me

I had always wanted to visit Montreal. I was happy that my French friend, Mary, was visiting her son right when I was going to be nearby. We synchronized our watches – and calendars – and made plans to meet.

At the entrance to customs, I was met by the border control sign. I had to answer some questions about why I was all the way up there with my Texas license plates. Apparently my no-nonsense reply and passport satisfied the agent, and I was allowed to enter the country.

Once across the border, they let me know that I was in Quebec. This is only my second province – Ontario was always nearby growing up. I hope to visit a few more of them before my traveling days are done.

I had done some research on where to park and how to use the Metro. We agreed to meet at the Berri-UQAM metro station at 11:00. I parked, took the metro and made it to station right on time. It took us about half and hour or so to find each other. In spite of the fact that I had stopped by at Verizon to make sure my phone would work over there, it wasn’t of much use. Mary called and left a voice mail for me. Unfortunately, between her French accent and the fact that I didn’t know where I was in relationship to where she was, I needed help.

What to do? Well, I smiled brightly at a college student who was eating her lunch  and said, “Hello! Do you speak English?” She smiled back, and said that she did. Then I asked her if she spoke French. She said that she did. So, I asked her to listen to Mary’s message and tell me where she was waiting for me. She listened, wrote it down and drew me a little map for how to get there. There are kind and helpful people all over!

Mary and I finally met up and greeted each other with bises – both cheeks. Then we took off to explore Montreal.

Our first stop was the Notre-Dame Basilica in the historic district of Old Montreal on the Place d’Armes.  The fountain in the center is a monument to the memory of Paul de Chomedey, the founder of Montreal.

With the overcast skies, it was hard to capture details of the sculpture, but I was quite taken with the parts at the base spitting water into the pool at the base.

We lined up to enter the Basilica. Unfortunately, for my thrifty soul, they charge $5 to enter. I do realize that it does cost money to keep up buildings like this, but you all know my favorite word, right?

That’s right!

While waiting to go in, I snapped a shot of the square in front of basilica.

It was finally our turn and we went inside.

The interior is rather eye-popping.

When we got up to the altar I looked for the symbols of a basilica – the crossed keys of Saint Peter on their coat of arms, the canopaeum and the tintinnabulum. I didn’t see them, but when I got to the stand for holy items for sale, I did see incontrovertible proof that this is, indeed, a basilica.

A rosary pouch embroidered with the name.

After our tour of the basilica, we set off to explore Old Montreal.

We came across this charming statue, and I asked a young man sitting on a nearby bench to snap our photo.

Just in case you are not sure, we are the pale ones on the ends.

I love seeing things I have never seen before. In fact, I had never even considered that there might be such a thing as a parking meter for bicycles. Oddly enough, this one seems to be labeled a no parking zone.

After strolling about, it was time for lunch.

We found pleasant seats on the sidewalk bistro at La Sauvagine. When it started to drizzle, we managed to find a slightly more sheltered table and we stayed outside for our meal.

I decided to try something I hadn’t had before. I ordered the wild boar, and it was tasty. I had Mary select the wine, as that is not a skill I possess.

We even indulged in dessert. I ordered the flan. I have to admit that I was less than pleased. In fact, I even left it largely untouched.

When it was time to pay, I paused to examine the money. The new money – well, new to me, at least – is largely plastic. In fact, there is a holographic section and you can see right through the money! I was amazed!

Suitably reinforced, we set out for Bonsecours Market. It was begun in 1844 and completed in 1860. It served as city hall from 1852 – even while it was under construction – until 1878. It was used for a variety of public functions (according to the plaque on the building) and was renovated and again became a public space in 1996. Now, it appears to be dedicated mostly to shops.

And, what would you expect them to sell? Well, I think I saw four different shops that specialized in maple products.

They even  had tastings! Who knew that there were so many different flavors in maple syrup?

On the corner at the far end of the market, there was a church that we had hoped to visit, but it was Monday. Apparently, it is closed on Mondays.

Posted on the side of the market was one of those signs I find hard to resist. No words are necessary.

The street in front of the market was under construction – or, rather, reconstruction. I guess you need to do that from time to time when you are dealing with an old city. They were doing it right, though. They were prying up the old pavers and replacing them with new ones.

There were pallets filled with heavy granite blocks. The workers were busily doing the skilled work that goes into laying the pavers.

This guy used a box filled with sand as a work space. He shaped the blocks and then passed them along to another artisan who laid them in the road bed.

We continued along to Place Jaques Cartier and admired the architecture.

We took pictures of each other in the frame put there especially for tourists.

I think Mary sent me the photo she took of me, but it is somewhere in the digital slush pile.

We kept encountering these signs while we strolled, but we couldn’t figure out what they might mean. Mary asked a shopkeeper and he walked us back out to show us what it meant.

A siamoise is a double-opening fire hydrant! I guess it got its name from the fact that they are joined like Siamese twins.

After all that strolling about, it was naturally time for a little refreshment. We go seated just in time! the skies opened up and it poured. Mary and I exchanged different expressions to describe a deluge. I wish I could remember them in French, but one translated to “raining ropes”. The rain was coming down in ropes, but luckily it didn’t last long.

After our refreshment, we walked past the current city hall. The construction began in 1872 and it was completed in 1878. Unfortunately, the building was gutted by fire in 1922. The outer wall remained and was used in the reconstruction. Architect Louis Parant decided to build an entirely new building with a self-supporting steel structure inside the shell of the ruins. It took six years to build the first structure. I don’t know how long it took to rebuild it, but it was renovated again in 1932.

Kitty-corner from the city hall is Chateau Ramezay, which was built in 1705 as the residence of the then-governor of Montreal, Claude de Ramezay. It was named by UNESCO as one of the 1001 sites you must see before you die. Unfortunately, it was late in the day, so we didn’t go inside. There was an arrow pointing to the gardens, so we decided to explore.

We strolled and chatted and chatted and strolled and eventually worked our way over to the metro station. We took the metro to the neighborhood where Mary’s son lived.

I was taken with the banana sculpture. What a fun addition to the area!

Mary had a guide book that recommended a restaurant in the area. We found it easily enough. Unfortunately, it was closed. However, we found another just down the street. We dropped in to the Restaurant Fameux for a light supper. If you look in the upper left corner of the photo below, you will see poutine. We both tried it for the first time. Neither one of us cared for it.

The smoked meat was more than enough for two meals, so I did take half of it back with me. I meant to ask what kind of meat was smoked, but I forgot. Mary told me that “Restaurant Fameux” means “Famous Restaurant”.

We walked back to the metro station, and Mary and I parted ways. I hope it won’t be another 16 or so years before we meet again!

Back to the truck, back across the border – and yes, I declared my leftover sandwich – and back to camp.

I declare the visit a success!