Bridges, Islands, Art, History, A Canal And Smoked Beef

Two days of cycling in Montreal and no one has beeped a horn in anger or aggression at me.  And no driver has cursed at me.  (Yes, I know when I'm being cursed at in French!)  And, where bike lanes cross into traffic, drivers actually stop for cyclists, even when there's no sign or signal telling them to do so.  

I guess all of this is remarkable to me because I've cycled so long in New York.  What's most telling to me, though, is that most Montreal drivers have no more experience of cycling than most drivers in New York, let alone the rest of the US, have.  The drivers in Paris were good, but I suspect a fair number of them, if they're not currently cyclists, recently rode bikes on a more or less regular basis.

One thing I can't get over is how, where the bike lane of the Jacques Cartier Bridge crosses the exit for Ile Sainte Helene, drivers not only stopped, they didn't creep into the intersection--or drive into it and expect you to pick up your speed and get out of their way--the way many New York drivers in New York, and the rest of the US, do.

Yes, I did ride over the Pont Jacques Cartier--to Ile Ste. Helene, as I mentioned, and from there to the South Shore of the St. Lawrence River.  This time, I took the east walkway/bike lane because, well, it was closest to where I had been riding.  One of the first things I realized was that I was rolling on an asphalt service; the last time I pedalled across the Bridge, my tires buzzed on the grating that separated them from the St. Laurent, 400 feet below.  

It was then that I recalled that the last time I rode across the bridge, I was on the west side.  No matter.  I was out to enjoy the ride, and the city.

The last time I saw the island--and its "twin", the Ile de Notre Dame--they seemed to be relics of the Terre des Hommes exhibit of Expo '67.  Since then, a lot of landscaping and other work--including, ironically, the building of the Montreal Casino an Notre Dame.  But it's far enough over on the island that it's possible to, if not notice it, at least not get too close to it.

Since I last saw the islands, the city has done, I think, a nice job with them--creating bike and walking paths, fixing eroded areas and creating botanical gardens and the Biosphere, among other things.

Today there were two events that closed off parts of the islands.  One was a cyclocross race.  I didn't mind that one:  The circuit, on dirt paths, didn't interfere with anything else. But the other event closed off access roads and made it dificult to get back on to the Pont.  But I, and others, managed.



Along the South Shore--mainly in the suburb of Longueuil--there's a series of bike lanes that takes you from the bridge, though residential neighborhoods, between a highway and series of railroad tracks (not as bad as it sounds) and through local parks.  

Then, after getting back into Montreal, I picked up some excellent Quebec goat cheese and something from France that seemed to be a cross between Brie and Camembert, with more of a grayish outer rind.  It was one of the creamiest cheeses I've ever eaten!  I washed them down with some little yellow grape tomatoes I picked up from a farmer's market.  Later after wending through some streets in Old Montreal and the area around McGill University, I would eat some succulent raspberries, purchased from the same market, 

Then I rode up Rue Amherst (How did a street in Montreal get a name like that?)  to a place called "l'Ecomusee du Fier Monde". Located in a former public bathhouse,  the Ecomusee states that, as part of its mission, it aims to teach people in the community about its history as a way of empowering them.

The upper level of the museum had a show describing the rise and fall of industry in the Cetre-Sud area of Montreal, and the lives of workers during that time.  It's interesting, even if you're not from the area.  The lower level, on the other hand, hosted a exhibit on "Art of Imagination". I liked the idea better than most of the actual paintings, which were a bit too New-Agey for my tasts.

After that, I descended la rue Amherst to Old Montreal and the beginning of a bike path along the Lachine Canal.  Said canal was built to avoid the rapids in the St. Lawrence River, and was thus one of the most heavily-used canals in the world.  The opening of the St. Lawrence Seaway and the rise of interprovince trucking caused the canal to fall into disuse.

This is where the canal rejoins the river:

   

When you look at how wide the river is, you understand why, at one time, Montreal was the second-biggest port city in North America.  

As you can imagine, all of the riding I've described made me hungry.  So I pedaled up Boulevard Saint Laurent for this:

We were all waiting to get into Schwartz's, renowned for its smoked meats, especially in sandwiches.  I got their signature item:  a smoked beef sandwich on rye bread with mustard.  It might be even more unhealthy than poutine, but it was worth every calorie and every globule of fat.  

Montreal: Eddy 1974 vs. Justine 2015. Or: Anything Eddy Did, I Can Do...If You Give Me Enough Time

Eddy Merckx said it was the toughest world title race in which he was ever involved.  

He did it on this bike:



Today, I rode it on this bike:

All right, I didn't ride the whole race, or anything close to it.  However, I rode over what might have been the toughest parts.  

And I did it on that bike. Mind you, it's not bad, especially as rental bikes go. In fact, I'd say it's the nicest bike I've rented.  As researchers would say, I have a limited sample size:  In plain English, I haven't rented a lot of bikes.  Still, I feel confident in my judgment.

But it's certainly not Mercx's DeRosa.  And, oh yeah, he was half my age when he did the climbs of Mont Royal.

You see, "le Mont" isn't a single climb.  It's really two hills, separated by a depression that resembles an ancient dormant volcano.  Except that, according to scientists, it never was a volcano:  The "twin towers" were the result of some unusual erosion patterns.

The first climb takes you up to the visitors' center at Maison Smith and to the trails that lead to the broadcast tower and this:

La Croix is visible from much of the city, especially on clear nights.  Yes, I rode to it and, since I don't do "selfies", I asked an anonymous stranger to take this photo:

Then I took another trail to the observation area

and another trail to the other part of the mountain, near the McGill University campus.

Then, after exiting the trails at the Avenue des Pins, I did some more climbing into the Cote de Neige (Yes, there's skiing and snowboarding in the area!) and the mansions of Westmount.

As Mercx and others remarked, the mountains aren't very high. So, the climbs aren't long.  But they're pretty steep, as many paved-over old roads are.  And, having to do them in sucession, as I did today, wore out some of the world's best rider in that epic 1974 race, the first World's Championship held in North America.

At least today's ride was, if chilly (high temperature:  10C, or 50 F), at least gorgeous:  Yesterday's rains seemed to have cleared the sky of clouds.  And, because it's well into autumn here,  north of the 45th parallel (New York City is at the 40th), the sun didn't seem very intense, even with such a clear sky.


Before and after the climbs and descents, I rode, almost at random, through various parts of the city, and into a couple of its suburbs.  I don't know how many kilometers I did today, but I can pretty safely say I rode.  And I definitely enjoyed it, and this city, which I hadn't seen in about fifteen years before this trip.

Where In The World Is Justine Valinotti?

If you're too old to be one of my grandchildren (as if I will ever have any!), you might remember a TV game show called Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego?  In it, the title character, who was the head of an international crime syndicate, would send one of her henchmen to steal a landmark.  (That gives new meaning to "Wanna buy a bridge?")  Contestants would use their knowledge of geography to track the thief from city to city and country to country.   The contestant with the most points would have a chance to capture Carmen Sandiego.  

Now, I am not involved with any crime syndicates--though I sometimes would say, "the Valinotti family" with, shall we say, just the right intonation.  (OK, now you know the real reason I never lost a fight!)  However, I will take over Ms. Sandiego's role and invite you to play "Where in the world is Justine Valinotti"?

Here's your first clue:

All right.  There are lots of places where you can see fog and low clouds enshrouding buildings.  So I'll give you another clue:

This house faces a park.  Said park isn't Central, Prospect, Fairmount, Greenwich or the Luxembourg Gardens. However, it's in a city that has a park designed by the same person who desgined the first three I mentioned and was inspired by the other two.

Now I'll give you another clue:

So you know I'm in a French-speaking city.  But it's not Paris, Toulouse or Dijon.  Or Geneva.  

OK, one more clue:

What French-speaking city might have a "Petite Italia"?  Probably not Saigon.  Or  Port-au-Prince. Cayenne:  I believe not.   Almost certainly not  Ouagadougou.  

So if not in France, Africa the Caribbean, or Southeast Asia, where am I?

By now, you've probably guessed where I am:

Athena, holding an announcement for a series of lectures in Montreal.

Oui, je suis en Montreal!  I arrived last night and checked into an interesting hotel run by an absolutely fabulous woman.  More about her, and the hotel, later.  

Since you're reading this blog, you're probably wondering whether I've used Bixi, this city's bike-share program. I haven't, mainly because I didn't ride at all. I was going to rent a bike today but decided against it because it was pouring when I woke up and the rest of the day was a series of drizzles, downpours and other variations of rain.  So I went to an art exhibit and gallery, shopped and ate unhealthy but tasty foods.

One of those foods was indeed poutine.  It's easy to see why it's one of the most emblematic foods of Quebec:  Few things feel better on a cold, rainy day.  Made with French fries and cheese curds smothered in brown gravy, it's also just the thing to eat when you want to thumb your nose at a sanctimonious, politically correct vegan you know.

I plan to rent a bike tomorrow and ride, sightsee and eat, not in any particular order.

I'll close this post with this, from the Place des Arts:

On the Sciences building of the Universite de Quebec a Montreal, images of Montreal's life, history and culture are projected onto the wall.  In the surrounding neighborhood --the Quartier des Spectacles, not far from Montreal Vieux and the old port of Montreal--there are all sorts of shows and plays of light