Montreal was a little intimidating on the surface.
Not only is it a larger city full of history and culture, but even communication was a concern. French is the primary language of the city, and beyond “Oui” and “Bonjour” I am hopelessly lost in the language of love.
Every once in a while I get to hit the road without the family. When traveling solo, my fast moving travel style usually gives me only a glimpse at a city before moving on. It unnaturally forces a place to try to show me all it’s tricks in one quick swoop. It lets me see many different things, but I rarely move beyond the superficial and get to know the personality within.
But with Montreal, I slowed down and was able to take my time. I spent about a week there, and I was able to slowly peel back layer after layer of the city.
I loved hearing French as I explored every inch of the city I could. Anyone I met would drop into English quickly after they realized my flaw. For the first time, I wished I knew enough French that they didn’t have to.
The Old Town area was what sealed the deal. I could feel the energy of those that had walked the streets before me. Montreal is so close to my home – yet in Old Town, it felt worlds apart.
Montreal captivated me.
Montreal seduced me.
More about Montreal :