Halfway through a busy April 2022 which would see me in nine different cities, I was able to visit a place I hadn’t yet visited: Montréal, Canada. I had intended to visit Montréal ever since 2017 when my Québecoise friend Alexandra, who I met in Split, Croatia, put it on my radar as a place I should want to visit. There was a very European personality to Montréal and Quebec as a whole owing to its predominantly French influence. I was told that the food is especially good and the people personable and kind. So when I had about two weeks to kill before a wedding in New Jersey, Montréal seemed the right destination. The intent was to do some exploration and discovery if Montréal and Canada as a whole, could be a place I would want to spend more time living in during the coming years.
As you may already know, I love destinations that are (to me) blank slates and where I am completely ignorant of what to expect. Standard life becomes interesting and novel without prior expectations. My regular habits upon landing in a new location, such as finding a gym, a restaurant to eat dinner at, or a local activity feels like I am undertaking a unique micro-adventure. For an ADD personality, these are fulfilling and necessary. For instance, I came to learn that Montréal is famous for its bagels. Different and if you ask a local, much better than those in New York City. It might seem simplistic and unremarkable, but for me, these little details are really fun to uncover.
It took five years but I finally made it for eleven days of reconnaissance and exploration in Montréal and to a certain extent, Canada; I had expected mid-April to be spring in Montréal (foolish!) and was treated to a bone-freezingly wet snowfall a day after my Easter arrival. Truly this was a fitting introduction to Canada.
I stayed in the neighborhood of Old Montréal, a European and rather romantic tourist destination with many of the best restaurants in Montréal along with some kitsch tourist shops. I was too early for the other tourists, but the relative vacancy in the cold evenings made for romantic scenery as I trodded to and from dinner each night.
My favorite ritual was happy hour on Tuesdays and Thursdays when a restaurant a short walk away from my apartment offered oysters for one Canadian dollar each. I became fast friends with the bartender and the venue where a lone traveler could sit and eat at the bar in comfort. I limited myself to 24 oysters a sitting, though in truth I could have eaten double that before dinner, no problem.
In Quebec, it is required by law for restaurants to address patrons using French. Everyone I met also spoke English and transitioned to it once I communicated in my broken French that I don’t speak French very well (the single phrase I remembered from borrowed audio cassettes from my late grandfather upon listening to it at least fifty times at age 10). I found that ritual a charming tradition as a tourist.
When I arrived the Covid restrictions were largely over, but pockets of repressive silliness still remained; one of these was an indoor mask mandate. Most places I walked into or through, such as the gym I visited each morning or the diner I breakfasted at afterward, ignored the ritual of requiring a mask to be worn between the distance of the front entrance and the distance to your destination where then the law stated, you were allowed to remove your mask.
I visited a locally-famous Jewish deli one late afternoon whose small interior was very crowded – there did not seem to be a seat open even at the counter. From the front entryway, I scanned for an open spot where I could sit and eat a pastrami sandwich-making eye contact with an employee at the end of the counter — he was motioning me to an available space to sit. As I walked towards him a shout erupted from all sides — ‘STOP! YOU CANNOT BE HERE’ — everyone in the restaurant stopped their conversations and eating to turn to me — I realized the man who was motioning towards me was actually shunning me away — “YOU MUST LEAVE WITHOUT A MASK YOU MUST LEAVE!” — at this point patrons of the restaurant were also chanting and nodding – “YOU MUST LEAVE!!”.
Caught in immediate recognition of that bizarro paradox where the forty people seated or eating in the restaurant were maskless yet yelling at me to leave because I didn’t have a mask on — I put my hands up and slowly backed out of the front entryway into the street — letting everyone know I respected their wishes. Once identified as ignorant, and not attempting to murder everyone using the Coronavirus, I was re-invited in if I put a mask on (that was currently in my pocket) — until I was ushered to a seat (where I could take my mask off). “No, it’s alright,” I smiled – “no thank you.” I continued backing away with my arms up and a wry smile that there was no fucking way those crazy people would be getting my money.
As I reoriented myself towards the sidewalk and continued on my way in search of a meal, a middle-aged Jewish visitor to the restaurant was exciting. He seemed kindly and also understanding of my situation and called to me “It’s not their fault –,” as he pointed a thumb to the deli behind him “they’re just obeying the law.” I shook my head incredulously and with a crooked smile and agreeing head nod my wide eyes attempted to telepathically suggest: I understand completely now (Mr. Jewish person) — government mandates should always be complied with.
I am to understand that Montréal experienced one of the longest lockdowns internationally on account of the Coronavirus. This has caused much anxiety and fear surrounding the thought of such restrictions returning. I can empathize with that perspective. I also think it’s remarkable that this perspective sees the threat from government sanctions as more dangerous than the virus itself.
Beyond Montréal or Quebec, I am also ignorant of Canada – my only visit being when I was twelve years old. I attended camp one summer in northern Minnesota where we had canoed for a week into Canada. I still haven’t ever visited a Tim Horton’s (Canada’s version of Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts) and before I Googled a map of Canada (the first time) I had very little idea of its geography. So it wasn’t until I began to more fully appreciate just how ignorant I was of Canada as a whole that the details of what I have been missing out on became more interesting.
For instance, did you know that Canada has both Territories and Provinces? Do you know what the difference is? Once I looked at a map of Canada I was surprised at just how foreign it seemed from my “American” perspective:
Each of these provinces seemed like an individual nation. I came to learn that culturally provinces and territories also behaved somewhat as such. Beyond that, the geography and distances separating them exacerbated their differentiations. Even their names piqued my curiosity: Nunavut? I had never even heard of it before. Also, what’s in that huge area of water above Ontario — I had never noticed it before? As for Newfoundland, Labrador, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia — what are these places like?
Are you surprised by my Canadian ignorance? I don’t blame you, other Canadians I met were also. I tried to explain that in the United States, geography is not a teaching or learning priority (which is why Where in the World is Carmen San Diego was so intriguing to us American school children). Take for instance a typical map of North America that was found in our classrooms:
As young Americans, we were tasked with memorizing the names and capitals of the fifty United States, not the geographies of the other nations on our continent. As in so many other ways, my modern self-education through travel has attempted to remedy such holes in geographic awareness. Montréal served as a reminder that I have a lot of new ground to cover across Canada in that regard.
In just a few days I determined that I would be returning to Montréal again. But when I do it will be from the artsy, bohemian “Plateau” neighborhood replete with graffiti, bars, and strip clubs. Also, the best time to visit Montréal is undoubtedly in the summer when they have many festivals: music, food, and culture. So currently I have it in my mind to return to Montréal on the way to Newfoundland later this year, during the summer. Let’s see if that intention can survive the next few months of emergent opportunities.
