Quebec

July 11 Ottawa to Montreal

Left the capital in a light rain and headed down Highway 17 to La Belle Province. Pleasant enough drive through dairy farms. Driving is a bit monotonous due to the expansion joints in the roadway. The rhythmic bumps almost lull you to sleep. We averaged about 120 km/h and were by far the slowest car on the highway. There was no danger getting a speeding ticket today. Passed a couple of cars from B.C. We both looked to see if we knew who was driving. We didn't.

Traffic built up considerably just outside of Montreal. Lane-changing appears to be a provincial sport in Quebec. We entered a lengthy five-lane tunnel that joined the mainland to the island of Montreal. Cars were zooming everywhere around us like angry hornets. Hannah noticed everyone was either smoking, drinking coffee or talking on his or her cell phones. I didn’t notice much as I was focusing my attention on keeping the car in the middle of the lane. Cars with side damage and broken mirrors were more the norm than the exception.

Our GPS delivered us safely to our lovely hotel that Jodi found for us. It is located in the University district and is quite nice. It will be tough to return to tenting once we leave Quebec City in a few days.

Once unpacked, we headed out the door to explore Old Montreal. Our first impression: It was humid, busy, under construction and everyone smokes. There was scaffolding, closed sidewalks and guys with jackhammers breaking up roadways and sidewalks throughout the city.

We decided to take a walking tour of the city. Our guide, Phillipe, a French Canadian whose second favourite hockey team is the Vancouver Canucks, began the tour by taking us through Notre Dame. That's him in the white shirt next to Hannah in the blue. He regaled us with facts and statistics about the church; however, anything he had to say, was surpassed by the sheer beauty of the building itself. Hannah was impressed that it cost $4500 to rent the church for a wedding and it could accommodate over 10 000 people. There is a two-year waiting list to get married in Notre Dame. Celine Dion was married here, and she didn’t have to wait two years to get a date. Pierre Elliot Trudeau’s funeral was also held in the church.

We contemplated lighting a candle and saying a little prayer for our dog Buddy, but since no one in our family, including Buddy, is Catholic, we didn’t think the prayer would take.

The tour of Old Montreal was great. We saw the old financial district, which was the banking center of Canada at one time. We learned that the Molson family not only began the first brewery in North America, but they also owned a bank alongside the likes of the Royal and the Canadian Bank of Commerce. We stopped outside of another old bank building that had been converted into a trendy boutique hotel called the St. James. Apparently, it is the place to stay in Montreal. The Stones and U2 both rent the entire building when they come to Montreal.

We were able to see the influence of both the French and English in the architectural design of the buildings. This part of Montreal has been gentrified and has become a popular place for Montrealers to live.

After the tour, we went down into the underground shopping network that is beneath Montreal. Shops and hotel lobbies and metro stations can be found there. It was nice to get into an air conditioned environment, and I can only imagine how popular the shopping areas are in the winter when Montreal gets two to three meters of snow and experiences temperatures that dip down into the minus thirties. The lower mainland may get a lot of rain, but we do live in a very livable climate.

After our short sojourn underground, Hannah and I started out on our pilgrimage to Schwartz’s Deli. Like all pilgrimages, there was some suffering experienced. The rain began falling lightly and then after about ten blocks, it was falling with more of a purpose. By block fifteen we were soaked. Hannah suggested we buy an umbrella or perhaps consider a cab. Eventually we arrived at the mecca of all delicatessens. A line stretched along the front of the building. We caught the last spot under the awning and waited for the little diner to clear out a little.

It looked like it would be a lengthy wait somewhat reminiscent of waiting for pasta at Antons in Burnaby. Eventually, a waiter waved for us to come inside. Imagine a diner from the 1920’s that has never been renovated. Imagine people young and old sitting on swivel seats at the counter and at old arborite tables. The din from the conversations was almost overwhelming. Schwartz’s is like a mini United Nations. There were people from everywhere eating and laughing while the staff yelled at each other in Hebrew as they pushed by to deliver their orders.

I looked around the busy restaurant for an open table with no success. I couldn’t understand why we had been asked to come into the restaurant. The waiter came by and I asked him where our table was. He pointed at a table with four chairs that was already occupied by an elderly man who was obviously savoring his meal. I had to excuse myself to get by and I wished my French had been better. We all smiled politely at each other and Hannah and I sat down. Now, I had done some research. I knew how to order. You ask for your smoked meat to be medium so it wouldn’t be too dry. Before I got a chance to order, our waiter stopped at a nearby table. One guy wanted his sandwich meat thin. The waiter shook his head and said, "No, you want it medium. Otherwise it will be too dry.” Next it was our turn. We ordered two smoked meat sandwiches (medium), two pickles, some slaw, and two cream sodas. I could tell he was impressed by the way he slapped closed his order book and headed off to collect our food.

So, after being at Dunn’s and Schwartz’s, I would have to say Schwartz’s is the best. The food is excellent and the ambiance of the deli can’t be beat. Judging by the pictures of celebrities who adorn the walls, we are not the only ones who liked the place.

With our pilgrimage complete, the rain stopped as we left the deli. The wind and clouds had been replaced with sunshine and unimaginable humidity. We walked back to the hotel through the university district.

This quaint district is filled with trendy little bistros, bars, shops and parks.

The parks and streets are lined with maple trees that contrast with the brightly coloured, ornate heritage homes. Strains of violins and cellos could be heard wafting through the neighbourhood. The end to a great day in Montreal.