Those Canadians did it again. They made me want to move to their country immediately. I feel we should start importing Canadian ways and take back some of the ones we've sent their way.
I flew to Montreal a few weeks ago on Porter Airlines. Normally I find talk of routes and transportation methods to be the epitome of mundane conversation, but I'm mentioning it here because Porter took customer service to a new level. (Admittedly, my trip took place shortly after airline employees dragged a doctor off a plane here in the U.S., sending expectations to an all-time low.)
Nonetheless. Let's start with the fact that the female flight attendants wear jaunty round hats, a throw-back I found quite charming. But they also served my sparkling water in a cute little glass. On the plane. When I got to Toronto and was told to throw away my water bottle as I went through security, I was assured that I would find beverages in the "lounge." Right.
But the lounge turned out to be a large area with plenty of comfortable seats, adjacent to a little cafe where you could help yourself to free sodas, water, coffee (served in a cute little cup with a saucer!), and snacks. Free snacks. This all made me feel quite fancy and not the least bit hangry. And then you know what happened next? They served complimentary wine and beer on the next flight.
To this I say: Step it up American airlines. You can do better.
I woke up early the first morning and found an old canal just a few blocks from where we stayed in Griffintown. It turns out to be a relatively short walk to the Old Port, though I didn't realize that until later. The light was beautiful and I played around with my new lens until my hands were too cold to keep at it.
While I didn't realize it that morning, the huge building above and below turns out to be Grain Silo No. 5, which was mentioned in one of the guides I consulted before I left.
Griffintown is gentrifying at the moment, so there was an interesting mix of construction cranes, graffiti, and chain stores like West Elm and Starbucks.
In the afternoon we walked to Old Montreal, which has the infamous European feel I'd read about.
I was on the lookout for this architectural wonder, known as Habitat 67. Now a housing complex, it was used as a pavilion during the 1967 World's Fair.
The walkway near the Old Port had a bit of a boardwalk feel, and lots of people were out and about. I liked that this ropes course was there amid all the old historical buildings.
Just a few blocks from the water are the narrow European-like streets, where we had a delicious French lunch. Unlike the French in France, when you speak French to the Canadians, they assume you can actually speak the language and keep on speaking French to you. It's a very polite assumption that I had to counter several times with, ok, ok, that's all I've got.
We found some interesting galleries here featuring contemporary art that contrasted nicely with the old world surroundings. This part of the city was about as close as I could get to the Montreal I conjured in my head as a girl reading Calico Captive. (A riveting story where a family in New England gets taken by Native Americans and sold as servants in Montreal. I cannot wait until my child stops finding violence scary so I can read this with him.)
Since I may or may not have taken 178 pictures in one day, I decided to break this into two posts. More next time.