I was searching for a bit of an intention for Montreal, and I departed without really putting any of that into words.
Monday, I arrived. The summer humidity, the smell, the mountain, the buildings, and even the 747 bus stop (and yes, of course the bixi stands) hit me as familiar, as some sort of home-coming.
Tuesday evening, after a candle light vigil, I’m asked, by an expert Montrealer, what my Montreal intention ended up being and like at departing time, I couldn’t put it into words. I share my irrational desire to see the new Leed Platinum Planetarium (which we later get to see) instead.
Week turns into weekend, and I’m laughing with my closest friends. We’re eating too much, we’re exploring terraces, hearing about each other’s new cities and careers. We’re staying out dancing, and we’re getting up breakfasting. Bixi keys get plugged into stands, and we’re given bikes to see sculptures, and lights, and fountains. We cross Pont Jauque-Cartier, which my first trip to Montreal, I would have guessed was too long to bike across.
The planetarium is better than I imagine. We sit in bean bags and in a strange cross between science and symphony are reminded that we are, well, alive–and pretty equal parts significant and insignificant.
The contemporary art makes me smirk. The 5k run humbles me. We actually get an old enough metro car to have engines dou-dou-dou in tones that resemble the first three notes of Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man.
I remind myself again that smoked meat is beef and not pork even though I’m sometimes tempted to think the reverse. I bonjour and merci with as much of a rolled r as I can muster, which is quite a bit, considering in 2006 I couldn’t roll an r to save getting angalaised back. We dance. I see favourite places and this round get to capture them with Instagram. I think often of my school year ahead.
I notice every single change, and since it’s been three year’s there have been a few. In both the city, and in me.
And I realize my intention.
It was to be inspired. Sounds cheesy. But it was. And I was (inspired, not cheesy).
And Montreal does that for me, it leaves me feeling bigger, better, and brighter. In great part, it turns, out that’s why I go. It’s why probably why it won’t be long until I return, and why when I left it felt, like I wasn’t actually leaving at all.