Canada - Day 3

Up to a cooler and cloudier day, and we decided to begin by walking downtown.

Along Rue McGill, until we came upon the sculpture Tai Chi Single Whip by Ju Ming:

On, to the junction with Boulevard René-Lévesque Ouest, at which point we 'hung a right' and came upon St Patric's Basilica, considered to be one of the best examples of Gothic revival style in Canada:

Another magnificent interior:

Out, and heading for the observation tower at the Place Ville Marie.

Though we did but know it, at the time we started walking we were only a block away from the tower, but lost all sense of direction, became convinced that the tower was another building some way away and spent an inordinate length of time discovering that it was not...

Having retraced our steps and located the correct address we made our way inside.  Again, this was completely counter-intuitive - upon entering the building the only way up to the observation tower is to descend to the basement and locate the express elevator that takes one up...

No mind - we made it eventually, and even on a dull and cloudy day such as this the views made it all worthwhile:

View past the Courtyard Marriott Hotel (1) and the Molson Coors brewery (2) to the Jacques Cartier Bridge (3) and, well into the distance, to part of the Lafontaine Bridge (4):

In the distance we could make out the Olympic Stadium (1) and the Montreal Biodome (2):

Two views of an abandoned and disused grain elevator and conveyor on a quay in the Old Port (about which, more later):

The headquarters of the Canadian Olympic Committee (1) and a simulation of the Olympic Torch (2): 

On this side of the river, the Grande roue de Montréal and on the far bank, the Montreal Biosphere:

A panoramic view, with Mount Royal (from which the city takes its name) centrally on the horizon and Saint Joseph's Oratory (1):

On the left, many of the buildings of McGill University and on the right, the Percival Molson Memorial Stadium:

On the left, Victoria Bridge, on the right the old Champlain Bridge and, immediately adjacent to it, and therefore not so easily visible, the new Champlain Bridge:

There's always someone blocking the best views:

While I was scanning the adjacent buildings, some small movement in the circled area caught my eye:

I tested the zoom on my new camera, and was quite impressed:

Out, and heading to another place on our 'hit' list - the Musée d'art contemporain de Montréal (MAC) - only to find it completely boarded up and closed for the duration of our visit...

Along Rue Sainte-Catherine Ouest, and then tea and cake were partaken of in a local branch of Café Dépôt:

Refreshed, and out once again onto Rue Sainte-Catherine Ouest:

Chess is played in many different formats along here:

More walking until we hit an intersection, and then, suddenly and after all this time, I was there:

Readers of a certain age may recall that in 1975, Clint Eastwood starred in a film called The Eiger Sanction; the screenplay was based on a book of the same name by the American writer Rodney William Whitaker, writing under the pen name of Trevanian.  

Although I thought the film distinctly average (Whitaker himself later described it as "vapid") I later picked up a copy of the book on which it was based, and immediately became a huge fan of Whitaker's writing.  Whitaker would later opine that

"The Trevanian Buff is a strange and wonderful creature: an outsider, a natural elitist, not so much a cynic as an idealist mugged by reality, not just one of those who march to a different drummer, but the solo drummer in a parade of one..."

and that's not a description of myself with which I could easily argue...

Among the Trevanian books that I read over subsequent years was one called "The Main"; this is my copy:

Completely different in style from "The Eiger Sanction", "The Main" tells the story of Claude Lapointe, an old-fashioned police lieutenant who patrols the area around Boulevard Saint-Laurent in Montreal.  While investigating a cold-blooded murder that takes place on his beat, the ageing Lapointe undergoes a process of reflection and self-evaluation. 

I found the book haunting and fascinating – largely for the sense of time and place that seemed to insert me directly into "Le Main" or "The Main" – the locals' name for the street at the heart of the story. 

Whitaker describes The Main thus:

"`The Main' designates both a street and a district. In its narrowest definition, the Main is Boulevard St Laurent, once the dividing line between French and English Montreal, the street itself French in essence and articulation. An impoverished and noisy street of small shops and low rents, it naturally became the first stop for waves of immigrants entering Canada, with whose arrival `the Main' broadened its meaning to include dependent networks of back streets to the west and east of the St Laurent spine. Each succeeding national tide entered the Main bewildered, frightened, hopeful. Each successive group clustered together for protection against suspicion and prejudice, concentrating in cultural ghettos of a few blocks' extent.

They found jobs, opened shops, had children; some succeeded, some failed; and they in turn regarded the next wave of immigrants with suspicion and prejudice.

The boundary between French and English Montreal thickened into a no-man's land where neither language predominated, and eventually the Main became a third strand in the fibre of the city, a zone of its own consisting of mixed but unblended cultures. The immigrants who did well, and most of the children, moved away to English-speaking west Montreal. But the old stayed, those who had spent their toil and money on the education of children who are now a little embarrassed by them. The old stayed; and the losers; and the lost."

and now, well over 40 years after first reading about it, I was about to walk along it.

We turned left and ambled on.  Not surprisingly, decades of development and gentrification have changed the area from that described by Whitaker.  And yet: in just the same way that places like Carnaby Street and most of Soho have been developed over the years, but still display faint shadows of their past, the area still maintains, in places, a faintly seedy air that speaks to its earlier form.

Here is the boutique / thrift store, Eva-B, complete with obligatory vegan cafe:

And who is that in the pink shirt, dangling a baby out of the second-floor window?

Why, yes  - it's the late Michael Jackson - today kept company by a pigeon as they observe the mix of tourists and locals strolling by...

More walking up the hill and, for me, not too much difficulty in imagining what the area must have looked like in earlier times.  

And then: Hotel 10, complete with JAG, a pink and blue horse-shaped lamp that once held pride of place in the now closed KOKO restaurant,  and which now stands watching from the patio overlooking the street.  JAG is named after the architect Joseph-Arthur Godin, who was responsible for the Art Nouveau-style "Edifice Godin", which forms the original and oldest part of the hotel. 

Further along the street, and we passed this queue on the other side:

Suddenly a familiar face stared down at us:

That's right - it's "a 9-storey love song to Leonard Cohen" - his former home is on a side street a little further along the Boulevard.

We crossed the street and started back down the hill, to our next planned port of call: Schwartz's.  We joined the ever-growing queue and soaked up the atmosphere:

Schwartz's benefits from a skilled "patron wrangler" (it's not the kind of place where you'd use the expression Maitre D').  As the queue approached him on the sidewalk he quickly assessed the size of each party and directed them accordingly.  As we got closer to the front of the queue he saw us and asked "Deux?".  We nodded and were swiftly steered past larger parties and inside - much to the chagrin of the little girl who saw us going ahead of her family party and expressed her disappointment.  While her parents explained the system to her, we were directed to a tiny table for two at the very back of the diner and immediately adjacent to the kitchen door.

The menu is printed on the place settings:

Being at the very back meant that we had a largely uninterrupted view of the entire place:

The smoked meat sandwiches at Schwartz's are available as "lean', 'medium' and 'fatty'.  I'm not a fan of fat, and am therefore usually inclined to order meat 'lean'.  On this occasion, however, I had done my research, and knew that only a naif would order anything other than 'medium' - the mark of a Schwartz connoisseur.  And so it was that we ordered two medium smoked meat sandwiches, fries, a pickle and drinks.  The boss seemed pleased with the choice:

Let's be clear - this is not a smart, decorous, 'first date' kind of place - it's impossible to chow down on one of Schwartz's sandwiches and not look a bit like a Neanderthal - but that's part of the fun:

Replete, we paid and headed out. I had heard tell of customers being chased down the street for leaving a tip smaller than that judged appropriate by the cashier, but no such problems today - either she was satisfied with what I added or the place was simply too crowded for her to exit her booth next to the front door...

And so we began the long haul back down the Boulevard and in the direction of our hotel.  By this time fatigue was beginning to set in, so there are rather fewer photos - though I did pause to record this.  Everywhere we saw construction I was impressed by both the size and the technology of the plant being used, and this set-up delivering cement was one such:

Over the six-lane Boulevard Ville Marie, with a view of where it disappears under the Palais des congrès de Montréal, a 200,000 sq ft convention centre:

Another thing that impressed me in both Montreal and Quebec City was the extent to which developers strove to maintain the facade of old buildings, even when the body was being razed and replaced:

Eventually we hit the intersection with Notre-Dame St Ouest, turned right and after ~150m stopped for a rest in front of the Basilique Notre-Dame:

After a short time watching the world go by we headed off in the direction of our hotel, pausing along the way to pick up supplies (tea bags, milk, apple juice) from the local convenience store and mugs of tea from the nearby Starbucks.  Finally, exhausted by a day of walking we got back to our room and put our feet up.

At around 18.00, acknowledging that the sandwiches at Schwartz's had ensured that we would not require a large evening meal, we set off explore the local area and acquire an evening snack.

We eventually chanced upon Café Capucine on Rue De La Gauchetière Ouest, where we ordered egg and bacon bagels, a small salad and drinks, before sitting at the window counter and watching the street while we snacked.

Eventually we headed out and worked our way down Rue McGill towards the St Lawrence River.

For a fascinating insight into the history of the Farine Five Roses Mill and it's famous sign, have a look here:

Looking back, away from the river and past the Basilique, we could see the Aldred Building:

Panoramic views of the far bank of the river:

What's that rather strange looking building standing opposite?  It's the Habitat 67 housing complex, designed by architect Moshe Safdie:

Along the river bank until we came upon this familiar site, seen earlier this morning from the observation tower:

Some of the history of this abandoned grain quay / conveyor can be found here and here.

The pleasure cruiser AML Cavalier Maxim, one of many that provide tourist trips up and down the river:

With energy levels now severely depleted we picked out the shortest route back to the hotel, where we collapsed at the end of a packed, tiring and enjoyable day.