It's Not About Montreal

I meant to write about Toronto, but despite having lived just west of the city for twenty-four years, I'm still nowhere near as familiar with this metropolis as I was with my own home town - Montreal.

When I lived in Montreal, I spent a great deal of my time downtown. On most Friday or Saturday nights, I could be found at the Irish Lancer Pub listening as live Irish-style bands alternated between touching ballads and rowdy drinking songs. I miss that ease of stepping out with friends to spend the evening nursing a couple of drinks and singing along with familiar tunes.

The shopping there was tops. Their main drag is St. Catherine Street, and there were non-stop boutiques, department stores and restaurants for several blocks in the downtown core. Day or night, the unusual characters were out in full, and people-watching was a must.

Montreal also had the best food. In Ontario, bagels are just donut-shaped bread. Boring! Montreal bagels are a feast in themselves and you'll notice the difference as soon as you see them. They're usually smaller, and shaped rather unevenly. Bite into one and you find that they're moist, dense, doughy and slightly sweet. They are my only true bagels. and most any Montreal bakery, deli or snack bar offered them. In Ontario, not even the gourmet bagel shops can bake up anything like them.

And don't be fooled by other cities that offer "Montreal smoked meat." They're lying. Nobody makes smoked meat remotely close to the Montreal delicatessens.

I've not been back home in almost a decade, and no doubt, parts of Montreal have changed beyond recognition. I'd like to get back there for a few days and reacquaint myself with the city of my youth. Downtown life still draws me much like country life does - it must be the Gemini in me. I miss Montreal, and every now and then I feel the need for a city "fix," and so I settle for the next best thing - a trip into Toronto, complete with its own eateries, unique shops and interesting individuals that are also very observation-worthy.

On a recent day excursion into Toronto, we wandered into markets, ate lunch, window-shopped and stopped for coffee. It was a beautifully warm and sunny October afternoon and we walked for hours, snapping photos as we went along, some of which are below.

The St. Lawrence market which is situated on the north and south sides of Front Street contains over 60 produce vendors, both indoors and out.

Handmade articles, fresh and prepared meats, cheeses, fruits, vegetables, jams and other sweets fill up stall after stall for two city blocks. Some offer free samples such as sausage served with a dozen different mustard options, or you may get to taste a small chunk of fudge. Colourful booths boast knitwear, paintings, jewelry and crafts. We visited on a Saturday, and the place was bustling with activity. We hope to go back on a weekday when we can take more time to stroll through the area without getting caught up in the crowd.

Everyday supermarkets can not compare with the tables of produce, freshly-picked that day.



Colourful pumpkins, gourds and Indian corn will brighten up homes this autumn.



Clothing...


baskets...



and tote bags in vivid hues are displayed outdoors.

Leaving the market behind, we decided to heed our hunger, and found an old-fashioned little diner on King Street. The Patrician Grill is a family-run business and there was no doubt that the older gentleman that spoke to us with such pride in his eyes, was the original owner. All-day breakfast and burgers seemed to be the popular choices of their regular patrons. The food wasn't spectacular, but it was decent. The atmosphere was nostalgic, but without any of the decorative gimmicks to fool you into believing that the place appeared older than it actually was. The setting and fixtures were genuinely original.

A small gem from the past.

After lunch, we headed north and walked along Queen Street.

Perched atop Toronto's Old City Hall, a gargoyle watched as we explored the town.



Much of the city's charm is tucked away along this stretch of colourful shops and cafés.

All along Queen Street, we found the kinds of shops that aren't usually seen in most small towns. In addition to the typical book stores and antique shops, crowds wandered in and around a number of pothead shops that sell an amazing array of related paraphernalia. We noticed a few sex shops proudly promoting their toys and books...

and this safety-promoting Condom Shack.



Brightly-painted graffiti adorns the brick walls in the alleyways between the shops.

A common site in most cities are pan handlers and musicians, each trying to take home some cash at the end of the day. Some of the street performers can be quite talented.

And some are just amusing.



Heading back east along Queen St., we encountered this painted tree in need of some affection.

By the time we got back to the train station, our feet were groaning from the six hours they spent striking the pavement. It was a great day though, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Maybe next time we'll hit Montreal!

What's your favourite city?