In a White Tower

Old Montreal

Old Montreal

As today was Canada Day. I felt justified in sleeping in. I laid awake in bed for a very long time contemplating life. I eventually dragged myself with the motivation of going on a bike ride. I decided to go in search of the head office of a specialty fashion manufacturer who I  was interested in. I had written a ‘cold cover-letter’ to them the day before and been unable to source a definite address, so went in search of Amherst were they were said to be based.

I bicycled along Sherbrooke, and past Papineau, eyeing all the free furniture people had left on the curb. It is said that no one celebrates Canada Day here because everyone moves on July 1st and Sherbrooke proved that to me. If I had a car, I could have outfitted an entire apartment with all I saw!

I soon realized I’d gone too far, so backtracked and eventually found Amherst. I had fun going down the steep hill and easily found the fabled head office, so decided to head to Old Montreal as I was so close.

I bicycled down various unknown streets and ended up in Square Vigor. There was a lone bird singing, which brought back memories of laying amongst the daisies and high grasses of the meadow near my cousin’s house last summer. It was a common bird with a sweet song, but I could not recall its name. I bicycled around the park listening to it. The park looked like it had once been beautiful, but now was overgrown with weeds. I wondered why it was so neglected when all the other parks in Montreal were so beautiful.

After circling the park, I turned down a random street and found myself in condo-burbia. It was quite unusual. It was block after block of grey and black three story buildings with peonies in each garden. Everything was still and silent except for one pair of children dressed all in pink, who were playing by the back wall of one garden.

When I got into Old Montreal, I went in search of the café I’d had coffee at in on May 17 (blogpost: The Rustle of Leaves). I went in just to admire their biscuits. They were displayed under glass domes and looked so yummy. Some were sprinkled with sugar, others with jam centres, yet I admired from afar like a knight with his lady in a white tower.

It was rather scary cycling on cobblestone roads. I kept thinking my tire would get caught in between two stones, so I parked it by a tree. I took pictures of things that caught my eye, and seemed to run into the same tourist family around every corner.

The Sir George-Etienne Cartier museum was offering free admission as it was Canada Day, so I went in there. Low and behold- there was the family again! I quickly ducked into the stairwell so that they wouldn’t think I was stalking them. I got a bit lost, but once I found myself back in the exhibit, I had fun looking at all the Victorian dresses they had on display, and the household trinkets. As uncomfortable as they must have been to wear, I love the look of early 1900’s women’s wear, especially the corseted riding attire. Its so sexy and modest at the same time!

After the museum, I cycled back home, and went around the Plateau looking for For Rent signs. At Carre St. Louis, I sat by the fountain. It wasn’t on, which was unusual, but there were plenty of people sitting around it – some even dangling their feet in the still pool it sat in! Some French boys near me were making quite a racket, so I decided to leave (they immediately took my bench).

Once home, I was met by Lianna who invited me to go swimming with her and Caro. I declined as my bathing-suit was an embarrassment (I bought it in high school) and I was too grumpy to be good poolside company. So, I had a nap instead… and when I awoke I sat down to write my blog and listen to a compilation by my favourite DJ, DJ Hi Mom. Now I sit sipping chocolate tea… I think I will go work on some more cover-letters for jobs now.


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