We flew early this morning to Montreal, leaving behind the green Nova Scotia islands. First up: locate hotel. Next up: persuade them to let us check in early (it’s 9:30 a.m.) Miraculously, they did let us check in. Bliss. We took time to get the wireless working for our iPhones, took a break, then went to find lunch at L’Express.
As I said to Dave over our amazing little lunch, Montreal is like France–but without an attitude. When I asked a question of the waitress, she didn’t roll her eyes one little bit, but instead switched to English, as the country is bi-lingual. And yes, that is a vat of cornichons, served with Dave’s lunch (I enjoyed some too).
L’Express restaurant has no sign out front and is open from mid-morning until after midnight. A popular place.
We then took Bus 11 to the top of Park Mont-Royal, where the views were accompanied by a soundtrack of a busload of 50 teenagers from New York City chanting rap rhymes. This park is across our view horizon when we sit in our hotel and look out.
The day became increasingly hotter and muggier. Yes, Montreal was at the beginning of heat wave.
We took a path from the viewpoint mostly UP to another viewpoint–I somehow thought it was going to be DOWN–and fretted most of the time that we’d miss our bus back downtown. We made it but barely, by running to catch it.
We were headed to Vespers, here, at Montreal’s Anglican church.
This was our nod to church this Sabbath day. I could see the light from the stained glass windows come in behind the singers and it was all I could do to not quietly creep up behind them and take the photo. I resisted, and watched the kaleidoscope of colored light paint the wall. After the service, I did get the photo.
The glass buildings surrounding the old church competed with dualing images.
The refracting lights gave an otherworldly effect to the front portico.
One soweth, another repeath, are the words in this little stone alcove.
Now Dave has been afflicted with Touristus Crankus, and sits out the snapshots I’m taking of these homeless meters. These meters are really quite an ingenious idea, and are placed all around downtown. Instead of doling out your spare change to “l’itineraire,” you put it in these meters. Not only does it solve the dual problem of lingering beggars and our guilt, it also brings in money to help them. We put our spare change in a couple of times, and were able to dodge direct petitions for handouts.
We decide to get out of the heat and head to our hotel, but first duck into the church patterned after St. Peter’s at The Vatican in Rome. The name of this is Maria, Queen of the World. It’s right next to Queen Elizabeth hotel, and just up the street from the Marriott, where we’re staying.
Although the Marriott (on the right) was designed by a Famous Guy, it has earned the name of The Cheese Grater, because of it’s arched windows. I don’t care what they call it. It was about the most perfect hotel ever, in my estimation. The elevators were swift and quiet, the room had a delicious view, the bed was terrific, they had a variety of pillows to choose from, free wireless, direct connection (via the underground) to the Metro, nice shower, good lighting, lovely bath products. and lots of well-placed mirrors. I could go on and on, but while staying in a bed and breakfast is nice, sometimes staying in a hotel is nice, too.
For dinner we went back up to Plateau Mont-Royal area of town where we’d had lunch. We also popped into a chocolate shop, Suite 88, to satisfy my desire for some chocolate. The above is a well-decorated store front on our way back to the Metro.
Just to the left of the red and white “S” is Mont Royal, and the tiny white light on the right of the mound is a giant cross. When we came back from dinner, this was the view out of our window.
I thought those lights on the wall might be the stars you were seeing after passing out from heat exhaustion–but perhaps you had a cool evening or were well fortified by your cornichons.