Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Montreal, Day Four
Nima left first thing in the morning. Around 10am I went for a run in the Plateau Mont-Royal neighborhood. The morning exercise centered on Rue St-Denis, a wide street lined by cafes and shops. During my jog I saw just one other runner. The people of Montreal don't need to run to stay fit.
Bicycle is the way to get around Montreal
After lunch I went to Olympic Park, a few Metro stops east of downtown. This large area contains Olympic Stadium (the home of the Expos), Montreal Tower, Biosphere and the Botanical Gardens. I spent most of my time in the gardens. They are the third largest of its kind in the world. In these gardens I was impressed by the shade garden and the greenhouse. I didn't care much for the Chinese Garden, which is too crowded with plants (some of which aren't even Chinese) and people.
Olympic Stadium and Montreal Tower
After a couple of hours in the gardens I took the Metro back to the center, stopping at the Quartier Latin and the Village. The Village is Montreal's gay-friendly district, though it is smaller than New York's or San Francisco's counterparts. The Quartier Latin is a funky neighborhood near one of the city's four major universities. In that respect it resembles a charming version of Berkeley's Telegraph Ave. or San Francisco's Haight Ashbury.
Botanical Gardens
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In the evening I tried Quebec's most famous dish, somewhat comically named poutine. This is a big bowl of french fries topped with gravy and curds. It is as rich as it sounds. I thought it tasted good at first but each bite became harder to take. This food is probably more appropriate on a cold winter's day.
Since Nima left this morning, I was on my own this night. On Sunday I told the Couchsurfer we met, Noemie, about my sitation. She offered to put me up for the night — this despite having to throw out her last Couchsurfer, a teenager from New Jersey, after he got high and freaked out her roommates. I went to her place in the Plateau neighborhood and dropped off my stuff. Afterwards, I set off on a quest for good jazz. I thought I would find it at a cafe in Quartier Latin named L'Utopik. This spot, however, catered to a student clientele — even the performers were barely in their 20's. I left after a couple of minutes.
Metro
I walked up Rue St-Denis to another club I read about in the paper. (Along the way I made a detour to Place des Arts. Here a crew was erecting an enormous video screen in preparation for the International Film Festival, which would start the next day.) This jazz club is Kemia, which occupies the basement of a three-story building. There were 15 or so people here tonight, watching a trio that featured an electric guitar. The group played blues heavy on distortion. The set ended at 11:30pm. I, nursing a sore throat, called it a night.
