Tonight I finally stumbled across one of the secret entrances to the underground city, only to find that everyone else was down there already. I knew it was there, but I wasn’t quite prepared for the extent of it or the spaciousness. I thought it was just a network of underground passages, some with a few shops – but it’s much bigger than I expected, lots and lots of shops, and it keeps opening out onto multi-level centres with food courts and all sorts of things. Most of the population of Montreal seemed to be milling around down there, which makes a lot of sense since the pavements above ground are slushy and slippery, and it’s very cold. I always surfaced as quickly as possible from the underground shopping streets in Osaka, which always seemed to me the vision of a post-apocalyptic dystopia, but here for the first time I see the point.
The entrances were a secret only from me, evidently – they’re obvious now that the veil has been pulled away from my eyes. All those signs that I thought were pointing to metro stations (RES plus a metro sign, as I thought) turn out actually to be RÉSO, which a quick trip to Wikipedia tells me is for réseau, “network.” In the sign the final O has a downward pointing arrow inside it, which is why I’d never worked out that it was a letter at all – not that it would have helped me if I’d realized, since that is indeed the symbol for the metro incorporated into the design, so it is kind of signposting the metro as well.
I was on the way back from the Salon des métiers d’art du Québec, a big arts and crafts fair in an exhibition hall at the Place Bonaventure. Lots of nice things, but I wasn’t tempted to buy anything (or at least, not anything that cost less than a few hundred dollars – there was a stall with grotesque and fantastic creatures, including an enormous rod puppet that would have looked at home in The Dark Crystal). I need a warmer hat. There were lots of those, but they made me think that the quickest way to get just what I want may be to make my own. I need some Christmas presents and omiyage, but I’m becoming more reluctant every year to give people things that don’t do anything, unless they really have something special about them.
Earlier in the day I went to the tourist information office to find out what’s on in the next few days, and then I hiked my way up the Parc du Mont-Royal intending to look out at the view from the Chateau (which isn’t a real chateau, but a kind of pavilion with a terrace in front of it). In fact I missed the road and went around a long (and very snowy) way, and got to the Lac des Castors instead, which at the moment is a small skating rink.
I was immediately struck by an overwhelming desire to skate, but thought I’d better go back to the B&B and get another pair of socks and some warmer clothing first, as well as getting rid of my camera and other unnecessary accoutrements. I had lunch in the pavilion there, and then came back here; but by the time I’d walked back I’d had plenty of opportunity to let common sense get the better of me (I hate that common sense!). Apart from wondering whether it was a good idea to risk breaking any part of myself right at the beginning of my visit, I didn’t bother getting travel insurance before I came here. Adding to that the consideration that I’m not a competent skater at the best of times, and that today I was tired and have just had my inner spirit-level shaken around for several days, I thought I’d probably better do something else instead. At the same time, I knew I was going to be faintly dissatisfied with anything else I did, so I had a long inner struggle which outwardly pulled me back as far as the skating lake, but which was resolved once I saw that the numbers of people had substantially increased and that several of them were teenagers speeding around and messing about. So instead I walked to the Chateau and looked out over snowy Montreal. I don’t have a photo of it, of course, because I’d left my camera here. When I got back, I bought some visitor’s medical insurance, partly so that I can skate tomorrow if I want to, but also because all of these slippery sloping roads and pavements seem fraught with possibilities for nasty accidents just now.
After the craft fair, I went for dinner in the Lola Rosa, a vegetarian café on Milton, somewhere between Rue University and Avenue du Parc. It’s just down from my B&B, and I tried to go there last night but they were closing. They told me yesterday that they’d be closed for two weeks from Saturday, so today was the only chance to try it. It’s a shame, because it was good. I had bourek - a spanakopitta thing with spinach and pine nuts in it - which came in two triangles with a big salad between them. The smell of spices rising from it when it arrived was lovely.
The entrances were a secret only from me, evidently – they’re obvious now that the veil has been pulled away from my eyes. All those signs that I thought were pointing to metro stations (RES plus a metro sign, as I thought) turn out actually to be RÉSO, which a quick trip to Wikipedia tells me is for réseau, “network.” In the sign the final O has a downward pointing arrow inside it, which is why I’d never worked out that it was a letter at all – not that it would have helped me if I’d realized, since that is indeed the symbol for the metro incorporated into the design, so it is kind of signposting the metro as well.
I was on the way back from the Salon des métiers d’art du Québec, a big arts and crafts fair in an exhibition hall at the Place Bonaventure. Lots of nice things, but I wasn’t tempted to buy anything (or at least, not anything that cost less than a few hundred dollars – there was a stall with grotesque and fantastic creatures, including an enormous rod puppet that would have looked at home in The Dark Crystal). I need a warmer hat. There were lots of those, but they made me think that the quickest way to get just what I want may be to make my own. I need some Christmas presents and omiyage, but I’m becoming more reluctant every year to give people things that don’t do anything, unless they really have something special about them.
Earlier in the day I went to the tourist information office to find out what’s on in the next few days, and then I hiked my way up the Parc du Mont-Royal intending to look out at the view from the Chateau (which isn’t a real chateau, but a kind of pavilion with a terrace in front of it). In fact I missed the road and went around a long (and very snowy) way, and got to the Lac des Castors instead, which at the moment is a small skating rink.
I was immediately struck by an overwhelming desire to skate, but thought I’d better go back to the B&B and get another pair of socks and some warmer clothing first, as well as getting rid of my camera and other unnecessary accoutrements. I had lunch in the pavilion there, and then came back here; but by the time I’d walked back I’d had plenty of opportunity to let common sense get the better of me (I hate that common sense!). Apart from wondering whether it was a good idea to risk breaking any part of myself right at the beginning of my visit, I didn’t bother getting travel insurance before I came here. Adding to that the consideration that I’m not a competent skater at the best of times, and that today I was tired and have just had my inner spirit-level shaken around for several days, I thought I’d probably better do something else instead. At the same time, I knew I was going to be faintly dissatisfied with anything else I did, so I had a long inner struggle which outwardly pulled me back as far as the skating lake, but which was resolved once I saw that the numbers of people had substantially increased and that several of them were teenagers speeding around and messing about. So instead I walked to the Chateau and looked out over snowy Montreal. I don’t have a photo of it, of course, because I’d left my camera here. When I got back, I bought some visitor’s medical insurance, partly so that I can skate tomorrow if I want to, but also because all of these slippery sloping roads and pavements seem fraught with possibilities for nasty accidents just now.
After the craft fair, I went for dinner in the Lola Rosa, a vegetarian café on Milton, somewhere between Rue University and Avenue du Parc. It’s just down from my B&B, and I tried to go there last night but they were closing. They told me yesterday that they’d be closed for two weeks from Saturday, so today was the only chance to try it. It’s a shame, because it was good. I had bourek - a spanakopitta thing with spinach and pine nuts in it - which came in two triangles with a big salad between them. The smell of spices rising from it when it arrived was lovely.
Contrary to yesterday's promise of photos soon, it turns out that I won't be adding any until I get back to Denver. I forgot to bring the USB cable with me.
1 comment:
Keep blogging - skate with care!
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