In homage to...Montreal, Canada

Arriving in Montreal on the overnight Greyhound bus from Boston, I was immediately struck by the distinct character of the city compared to the American east coast cities I had visited in the previous four weeks.

I snaffled two breakfasts, a croissant in an almost-Parisian café and a do[ugh]nut in the chain bakery Tim Horton’s. The difference between those two establishments seemed to sum up the unique blend of cultures that Quebec as a province – and particularly Montreal, its biggest city – represents.


My hostel was situated in Vieux-Montréal (Old Montreal), below. When you are immersed in this riverside district of the city, it is impossible not to think of yourself as in Europe; twisting, cobbled streets are lined with elegant restaurants and shop fronts.

I had been expecting a typical North American (I cannot say Canadian, having never visited English-speaking Canada) metropolis, but the old town would sit more comfortably anywhere in continental Europe than it does in the new world. Even Boston, famed for its compact nature, has nothing on this.


Perhaps because of the distinct features of this quartier, however, it is somewhat spoiled by the sheer numbers of cheap souvenir shops that detract from what would be the magic of Vieux-Montréal. It seemed as though every fourth property sold the same tat – $5 t-shirts, moose fridge magnets, ‘J’Aime Montréal’ keyrings. It would be exceptionally naïve to claim that Montreal is unique in being blighted by such touristic commercialism, but it was particularly stark in comparison to the atmosphere of the streets.

Montreal combines showcasing its ‘old city’ with a modern business and shopping district. This part of the ville is not exactly a tourist hotspot, and to a large extent it would blend into the facelessness of any modern North American city. The difference, of course, is that everything is in French; the impression I was left with – contrary to my expectations – was that the Montréalais are not so much Canadians who speak French, but Français who live in Canada. But I don’t want to enter the minefield of Québécois identity and the debate over national sovereignty.

I had anticipated that road signs would be bilingual, that English-language newspapers and magazines would be on sale and that very few native citizens would speak only French. Perhaps that was due to a certain arrogance on my behalf, but I assumed that Montreal, and the province of Quebec, would be comparable to Wales. Not a bit of it. Apart from tourist attractions, very little was bilingual; Quebec, of course, is famous for having ‘ARRET’ written in place of the familiar ‘STOP’ on signs – even France (albeit due to EU regulations) has the latter.

Not that Montreal’s fierce pride in its French heritage should be mistaken for insular parochialism. As well as being the home to a number of international organisations, Montreal hosted the renowned Universal Exposition in 1967 as well as the Olympic Games in 1976 (stadium pictured below). The city is also to the forefront of the petrol heads’ map of the world, hosting the Canadian Formula 1 Grand Prix at the Gilles Villeneuve circuit. (Indeed, that the race took place this weekend – resulting in a thrilling victory for Jenson Button – inspired me to write this article.)

Cosmopolitan, diverse, if sometimes a little arrogant, Montreal reflects many of the values of great European cities; the most notable comparison is between the Quartier Latin in Paris and Vieux-Montréal. But Quebec’s showpiece metropolis is more than simply a cliché, or a city in an existing mould. Instead, it combines cobbled charm with a bohemian district; it contains the mandatory (and typically anonymous) business district, but is also a student city; it is a celebrated international city, but very much remains true to its roots. Montreal is a curiosity, and curiosities are always the best for the traveller to explore.