Montreal in September is magnifique. And so are Tom’s language skills. I took four years of french in high school, minored in spanish in college, went to a language school in Mexico and took conversational italian. Can’t speak a lick. Tom on the other hand can practically hold conversations in all of these and never studied a single one. First five minutes in Montreal and he is translating traffic signs. “Babe, only taxis are allowed down that street so turn here.” Not fair.
Just a couple hours in the car, et voila, everyone speaks french. I was totally nervous that I would get a good dose of attitude by the locals because I don’t speak french. But that totally never happened. They have a little language switch in their head that goes from Bonjour to Hello quite kindly. I want that switch.
Our trip was fabulous in the site seeing, map holding, touristy kind of way (as opposed to the whoo hoo we can drink at 18 kind of way). And, oh the places we walked…Old Montreal, Chinatown, Parc Jean Drapeau, Biodome, Olympic Stadium, Little Italy, The Village, Latin Quarter, Underground Pedestrian Network, Downtown (Rue St. Catherine, Rue Crescent, Rue Sherbrooke), Museum of Fine Arts for the Yves St. Laurent Exhibit (A-MA-ZING) & Greene Street. Of course we hopped on the Metro here and there. At one stop I lost our remaining tickets and Tom, with his multi-language skills, simply said, “c’est la vie.”
Montreal, mon ami, we will see you again.
