We went first to a Jewish deli for breakfast, where I had superb French toast with a veal pancetta, then we went up Mont Royal Parc. I hate to admit it, but during my 9 months or so living in Montreal I never actually went to the park, it felt too difficult even though the park was only ten minutes from the house in which I lived.
The park was full of autumn scents and colours, parts of it quite magical. The leaves were very dry – it is supposed to rain tomorrow – and kicking them around was a great joy as always. We climbed up to the top and then took a very winding way down, taking whichever turn seemed most attractive. It’s hard to say which kind of autumn leaves I like best. The fiery sugar maples are gorgeous, then there are the ones that look like a peach haze, and and green and fiery yellow ones, and the ones that turn the colour of a bruise.
We came out in Outremont, passing through very wealthy streets which were similar to those of Westmount, on the edge of which I lived over a decade ago. Was the similarity a matter of wealth or a matter of Anglo culture? I did once visit a house in Outremont, we went there for dinner hosted by a very wealthy and fairly aristocratic French-Canadian family, with Picasso sketches in the dining room.
The purpose of coming out here was for the Gentleman Friend to try Montreal bagels, so we went to Fairmont. The area has changed, gentrified or at least hipsterified since I was last here, as I remember it being fairly non-descript before. No longer. There was a queue but one that moved swiftly, and soon we had our half dozen bagels which we later had with a dinner of mushrooms and chard.
The next stop was for pastries and as we sat in the little outdoor park eating them, a food tour arrived. There is something peculiar about people on tours – I don’t exclude myself of course – a sort of passive consumption of experience. Also, in this case, of little brioches filled with white chocolate which looked very tasty.
Then onwards for some good coffee, again sitting outdoors, this time at a cafe where a wasp bumped into my eye, much to my panic – the wasp attacks in past years have made me quite fearful and it would have been a truly hideous acccident had the wasp not collided with me face on.
Finally return and then I had to work to meet a deadline I had been ignoring. I did meet it, at 22.56, with four minutes to spare.
It is so lovely being back in a proper city. I hate to say it, but I think the GF and I’s views might diverge on city vs country living.