A bird’s eye view from Mount Royal

Guess where I am!

Yes, we’ve crossed the Atlantic again, landing in Canada this time. And this time even His Lordship was allowed to tag along!

Our first stop was Montreal and I was already impressed when I saw it from the air. It’s a huge island city surrounded by rivers, and boy, there certainly is no shortage of greenery. I’d expected forests in Canada of course, but it’s great to see that even these vast urban areas are green.

The scale of the city really hit home once we had hit the ground. The distances here are huge. In fact I heard a local telling the Oldies that Montreal is about four times the size of Paris. But it is easy enough to get around, thanks to the great public transport system. Our hotel was quite far out in the suburbs but it was next door to a metro station. Now, it’s probably the ugliest metro station I have ever seen, but at least we got into the centre quickly and efficiently from there.

Once we hit the city centre, I was delighted to see the Oldies making a beeline for the Old Port. This is on the confluence of the Saint Lawrence and Ottawa Rivers, and with rivers this size, it’s easy to imagine being on a much bigger body of water. There even is a ‘city beach’ at the Old Port. It’s a tad underwhelming to be honest, but it’s a city beach all the same.

I noticed Her Ladyship taking an inordinate interest in Nelson’s Column on Place Jacques Cartier in the old town centre. She claims she can remember Nelson’s Pillar in Dublin being blown up. Or, at least, going the next day into O’Connell Street with her Da to view the wreckage. I’ve just checked when that happened – in 1966. Gosh, she really is ancient! Anyway, here in Montreal the bold Nelson is still standing tall. Though he looked a little bit on the nervous side, with that little old Irish revolutionary staring critically up at him.

I know Montreal is French speaking, but I was still surprised at how dominant the French language is in the city. I think the Oldies didn’t know what hit them. They’d start stammering rusty French in their appalling accents and, quelle surprise, the locals launched happily into French, looking highly relieved not to have to speak English. It was quite unlike France, where I was used to witnessing the pain the poor French suffered on hearing their language being massacred by these foreign Oldies.

This is certainly not your everyday sight, especially when it’s 25⁰C outside: an indoor ice rink which is open all year round. There’s certainly no doubt about how much these Canadians love their skating and ice hockey!

Downtown Montreal reminded me a little of Chicago – at least the ultra modern parts. There certainly are some really cool skyscrapers here. I took a fancy to this amazing giant ring at the Place Villa Marie. It must look fantastic when it is lit up at night.

Through the ring, I spied what I thought was some sort of castle or fortress on the lower slopes of Mount_Royal. (Hah, no prizes for guessing where the name of this city originated!) It turns out that this grandiose ensemble of grey stone buildings complete with turrets and towers is actually part of the McGill University – faculty buildings, student halls and the like. Very posh!

I enjoyed our meanderings around this area, especially when we continued on up the hill. That Mount Royal is a royal hill alright. It’s an extensive green area with miles of pathways, parkland, two huge cemeteries, a lake (used, of course, for skating in the winter),… it just goes on and on. I was impressed with the picnic tables with inbuilt metal sections for barbecuing on and the special bins provided for charcoal ashes. Well, I suppose winters are long and harsh enough here, so they obviously go to great lengths to make the most of their summers.

I found the giant carved wooden squirrels on the rafters of the Mount Royal Chalet rather unnerving, but it is quite a beautiful building all the same. The best part for me, however, was the Kondiaronk Belvedere, just in front of the chalet. The views of the city from there are second to none.

Hah, and look who I spotted from up there: none other than probably Montreal’s most famous son, Leonard Cohen. Damn! I haven’t been able to stop humming ‘Like a bird on the wire’ ever since.