things I like about montréal - number 4

Groll street.

In the midst of Mile End is a cute little street only available to the non-car people… like French Panic and myself.

It is a short street with people’s houses abutting it on both sides in that very Montréal sort of way. Graffiti, most of it very creative, decorates these walls, which I’m sure sort of pisses off the home owners. I like to think I wouldn’t mind if it was my house, cause it wouldn’t matter. Like having a grudge match with the ocean, anger towards street artists has exactly zero effect.

I have no idea why it is named Groll, or what Groll even means. I’m not going to bother trying to find out either.

Every time we walk near Groll to go anywhere, I insist on walking down it… and then down the alleys that connect to it. It makes me smile, and that is some special street.

I’m going to miss you, Groll street.

winter in Montréal.

Everyone seems surprised when winter comes.
It happens every year about this time.
That first day of heavy snowfall reminds me of how stupid humans become when massed.
It also reminds me of how lucky I am not to own a car...

or a cell phone.
I don't care for cell phone cameras.
I was suspicious that this was an art project.
The phone was probably taking my picture.

Here's a pair of leaves that shouldn't have been so surprised.

These two leaves were getting ready to drop to the ground, but got up late.
I find I have the exact same problem when it's cold out.

montréal snow.

When I was little, my favorite movie was The Empire Strikes Back. It was also one of two movies I had seen by the age of 7, the other being The Black Hole.

What I liked most was the scenes on the ice planet Hoth. I really wanted my winters to be just like Hoth. I wanted to walk to school in trenches made of snow, constantly wondering if some storm troopers might be around the next snow bank. That would mean that mom and dad would certainly have to provide me with a lightsaber or at least a blaster.

So here I am in Montréal, enjoying as close as I'm likely to get my childhood dream. There are no storm troopers, but the sidewalk clearing snow machines provide a similar level of danger and excitement.

Apparently this winter has give the province of Québec nearly the all time record for snow fall. It always seems to mostly melt between storms, because climate change has still provided above freezing temperatures most weeks. Still, this is how winter in Canada is imagined by the rest of the world.

However the bitching and whining has not stopped since the snow first flew way back in October. According to my landlady, 'ten years ago this snow would have been cleared as soon as it hit the ground. Where are the trucks right now?'

The peoples are never satisfied.

Garbage collection in Montréal occurs twice a week, even in the winter (in Edmonton, it is once every two weeks in winter - try missing garbage day in January... ), yet that's not good enough. Education is the cheapest in the land, yet that still isn't cheap enough - apparently it ought to be free. French is all around and spoken even by the majority of anglophones that have moved here. Still not good enough. I don't know what the proposed solution to that might be... but it makes me very nervous. Montréal has a brilliant transit system that assures that most citizens don't even need to own a car and can still access nearly every part of the city, but I'm still the only person who smiles in the metro.

And now it's the snow.


Marcel Tremblay is the man that most city folk are directing their rage towards. He is in charge of clearing the snow for the city, and I hope he takes the summer off. Just to be clear, he didn't ask for budget breaking snow falls. He has promised that by tomorrow most of the snow will be off the roads and sidewalks. I'm not sure if he can manage it. There just aren't enough shovels. I'm nervous for him, and I already imagine an angry lynch-style mob marching to his house come Thursday morning. I wouldn't be surprised to see pitchforks and torches. Francophones love clichés.

I can't imagine how disheartening it must be to see all the snow melt anyway as the sun effortlessly erases all the money spent just to move snow from one spot to another. Truly a job with absolutely no hope of satisfaction... ever.

I guess if you own do own a car and decided to use it this week, it must be maddening. The above photo is a visual representation of Sartre's statement 'L'enfer, c'est les autres' (Hell is other people). That snow blower travels at about the speed of a geriatric with a walker. And due to notoriously bad parking habits complicated by giant snow banks, the actual lanes available for moving cars has shrunk, like a fat man's arteries, by at least half.

But you'll note, on closer inspection, that the pedestrians are moving past the traffic, walking free and easy. That's because sometimes legs are better than wheels. Even Luke Skywalker and Han Solo knew to use tauntauns when the going gets snowy.

a backalley.

This is the back alley behind my apartment. The snow helped cover up all the ugly bits quite nicely. It also made it very quiet since almost no one drove down it that day, except for the garbage collectors.

There is something special about garbage collectors in Montréal; nothing ever stops them. They might be a touch grumpy and their truck smells pretty bad, and they don't always get everything, but twice a week, there they are.

Huzzah!

too much negative

This sign post is nothing but confusion and negativity. It somewhat explains why I don't drive in Montréal. I'm not even sure what the bottom sign means. Is it no parking between noon and 1pm on tuesdays and fridays from April first to December first? That seems oddly specific.

Then someone added a bicycle logo with a red line through it. I guess that means no biking at this particular corner? Or does the above timeline apply to bicycling too?

This sort of sign is why the philosophy of logic is such an important class at universities the world over.

painted hole covers

I live in Mile End.

It is the coolest neighbourhoods that I’ve ever lived in. Some days I just don’t feel cool enough to live here.

Everyone looks vaguely familiar, as if you should know them because they’re in a band, or are mildly famous artists that the local art weekly has been going on and on about.

Proof of this is that the guy living downstairs from us is a well known DJ and the next place over is the home of a writer.

Someone told me that this area has the highest density of artists and filmmakers and musicians.

I don’t know about that. Seems like one of those made up statistics (73% of statistics are created on the spot, which is astonishingly high, but there you are).

Still, some artist has decided to take the time to paint every single person hole (or can we call them manhole covers again?) to match the colour scheme of the businesses and homes around them.

This wouldn’t fly in Edmonton. I’m sure it would be considered some sort of anti-establishment style vandalism.

The city of Montréal even approved of it. Probably because it was free maintenance of hole covers.

Anyhow, painted hole covers make me very happy... like an episode of Sesame Street. I fully expect Mr. Snuffleupagus to wander out of a back alley one day.

breakfast at Ém café

This was my most excellent breakfast on Saturday. The bananas are inside the crêpe, and I got two different kinds of cream... I didn't even know that I needed two kinds of cream. My eyes have been opened. I will now demand that all dairy needs be backed up with a second, more different, option.

Another café has opened in Mile End. This one is very clean and simple and oozes good taste. It is called Ém Café, and since I said something nice and took a pretty picture without asking for money, I think I deserve free coffee.

nerf warriors

On weekends, people of various backgrounds in Montréal, leave the basement with weapons made of nerf, head to the mountain, and beat each other on a battle field mere meters from hoards of dancing hippies.

I do enjoy watching and pretending I'm a wandering peasant in old timey days. I don't have an outfit.