Montréal: City Guide + Photo Diary

I hesitate to call it one of the most beautiful cities in the world, but only because I believe every city is beautiful in its own way. There’s an old world charm to it, perhaps because of the architecture and French-filled streets; there’s no honking, no madness, no rush. Very unlike New Jersey, and very much unlike New York City. It runs on air and clean streets, Montreal; New York thrives on hasty energy and clogged traffic. There’s a divide in culture and atmosphere and vibe—but to each their own. I love both.

I hear French-twinged accents and melt at these people’s abilities to switch between two languages so flawlessly. Why are Americans so set on learning a second language as just a supplement? English is neither the sole language in existence, nor is it the most powerful. We’re egocentric, us Americans… Education should be a priority.

The grid streets aren’t unlike New York City’s; they’re just cleaner. Supposedly they’re designed methodically for ease of navigation, but I’ve never been good with directions. I always like to know things so I can apprehend. Prepare. But knowing where I am is secondary, if not completely irrelevant. Naive? Yes. Perhaps I’ve come to rely too heavily on my beloved Garmin, or perhaps I felt safe enough in the midst of my companions to guide me home (which they did, thankfully). I like the idea of being lost, of taking in my surroundings—because that’s how I experience and get on an adrenaline high. That’s how I remember. Let me see. Let me touch, let me explore. I’ll never be lost again after that.

I felt safe in this city I didn’t know. It was so relaxed, yet so alive. There was immense pride for this city. There was culture. History. Diversity and unity, all at once. A city of art and bicycles and cobblestones by day, a throbbing heart by night.

I danced on a rooftop all night long my last night there. One breath took in woozy dry ice—I didn’t mind—and the entirety of the city. Black but bright with taxis and young people and lights.

This would be ze perfect city for you young people, our taxi driver had said en route to the club.

It would.

 .   .   .

x