Our Return to Montréal

I don't know if either of us knew what to expect when we returned to Montréal. It seemed a bit weird to visit a city where we used to live but where we no longer have any friends, as they have also moved away. So we weren't sure what we were going to do with ourselves, as we had no need or desire to see the sites nor did we have anyone to visit.

We also made a rather inauspicious entrance into the city, starting things off with--what else?--a bilingual screaming match as we waited on the train platform. Of course someone tried to steal our stuff at the train station. Of course. I would have been more surprised if no one had at least tried to nick our bike gear. It's Montréal. And, while thieves and large cities go together like bread and butter, I think Montréal can count itself among the small handful of cities where, if you catch someone trying to steal your stuff and have the gall to take it back from them, your thieves will get mad at YOU and offended that you have retrieved what they have rightfully stolen. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that Montréal is the only place on Earth where the ensuing screaming match would be conducted in two different languages, each party understanding the other perfectly well but sticking to their native language simply because that's where their favourite insults and cuss words reside. Naturally, the classic response to being on the receiving end of a French/English insult is to switch to your non-native language to reply in perfect scathing French/English, "I don't understand what you're saying, [insult]; I don't speak French/English," before reverting back to your native tongue to hurl more insults: "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, you don't understand. Understand this: FUCK. YOU. Yeah? Understood that, yeah? THOUGHT SO."

Obligatory bilingual scuffle out of the way, Kieran and I managed to have a perfectly lovely time. The hostel ended up being three blocks away from our old apartment, so we had no problem finding it and had the luxury of knowing all the best places to eat and hang out. And, perhaps for the first time in Montréal, Kieran and I had the even sweeter luxury of spending the entire day together. I think--no, I know-- that you could count on one hand the number of times one or both of us didn't have to work on any given day during our time in Montréal, so it was wonderful to spend a day poking around all our old haunts without deadlines or upcoming shifts or research papers hanging over our heads. As a result, we got to roll all our favourite stolen pleasures into one day: We went for brunch, we went for coffee and lingered over the crossword, we went to a matinee, we went window shopping along Ste. Catherine's and Sherbrooke, we poked around the second hand book stores, and we went for dinner. Also nice to see is that the gentrification seeds planted by Kieran and Louis' Starbucks have taken root and our old neighbourhood is significantly nicer. Far fewer sex shops and "danse contact" joints, with funky little restaurants in their place, flower pots along the sidewalks, and it appears that some effort is being made to minimize the, uh, ca-ca and other bodily fluids that used to litter the sidewalks. It's really an incredible difference and the whole area seems brighter and fresher. (Our old building still looks like a total mung hole though.)