After my adventurous week in Miami, I returned to Montreal rejuvenated and in high spirits, full of life and ideas. It was the first week of November 2022, and it also marked the beginning of my blogging journey.
By this point, I had accumulated quite a collection of stories and experiences, enough to keep me talking for hours whenever I met someone new. I often found myself thinking how much easier it would be if I could simply mention one of these adventures and then point people somewhere they could read the full story, rather than having to recount everything from scratch each time. And so, Odyssey From East to West was born.
Four years later, I’m still at it, slowly working my way through the backlog. And if nothing else, this whole endeavour has been a rewarding personal experience in its own right. Revisiting these memories and reliving the stories in detail as I put them into words has been a journey of its own. So, I intend to keep plugging away at a steady pace, gradually closing the gap between the events themselves and the time of writing. One day, perhaps, I’ll finally catch up with the present!
A Well-Deserved Breather
November was going to be a rather quiet month. As I mentioned in a previous post, my temporary work contract had ended in October, leaving me free to take it easy for the remainder of the year. The understanding was that I would receive a new contract in December for the following year, so there was little reason to worry about work just yet.
Everything was going well. The year’s whirlwind of activity, excitement, and adventure had reached its crescendo with my trip to Miami. Now, things were finally winding down, and I was enjoying that blissful post-adventure lull. There was no pressing need to chase the next big thing. For once, I could simply relax and enjoy the moment.
Apart from getting this blog off the ground, I also returned to playing the piano. I started working on a few songs I had always wanted to learn, occasionally trying to string together some original melodies whenever inspiration struck. Nothing was ever likely to come of it beyond personal amusement, but that was hardly the point. It was simply another way to keep the creative side of my brain entertained.
Around the middle of November, I also had a guest coming to stay for a week. My mom had travelled to Canada to visit family in Calgary and was now flying over to Montreal to spend some time with me. It would be her first time in Quebec, and I had already begun putting together a mental list of places I wanted to show her.
Knowing my usual approach to exploring cities — covering as much ground on foot as humanly possible, often for several hours at a time — she was in for a bit of a mini-marathon!
A Rainy Day at the Biodome
Our first day of sightseeing greeted us with the sort of grey, rainy, and windy November weather that makes you question the wisdom of venturing outdoors in the first place. Fortunately, Montreal had plenty to offer beyond its streets and parks, so I decided that the Biodome, located in the city’s Olympic Park, would be an ideal place to start.
I had visited the Biodome briefly during the early summer, when a friend of mine had come over from Germany. This time, however, I had the opportunity to take my time and properly explore the exhibits. For those unfamiliar with the place, the Biodome is essentially a collection of recreated natural habitats under one roof, allowing visitors to journey through five ecosystems of the Americas without ever having to leave Montreal. From tropical rainforest to subpolar islands, each environment has its own distinctive atmosphere and wildlife.
Each habitat had its own charm. The penguins in the Sub-Antarctic Islands section were particularly lively that day, waddling about and diving into the water with the sort of enthusiasm that made them thoroughly entertaining to watch.
Over in the tropical rainforest, the capybaras seemed perfectly content to lounge about, seemingly in no hurry to do anything at all. The tamarins, on the other hand, appeared rather more agitated by the steady stream of visitors surrounding their enclosure. Meanwhile, in the Laurentian forest section, we managed to spot a lynx fast asleep, its coat blending so seamlessly into the surroundings that it could easily have gone unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t paying attention.
After finishing our tour of the Biodome, I figured we could still spend some time exploring the rest of the Olympic Park. There was plenty more to see, after all. My mom, however, didn’t quite share my seemingly inexhaustible appetite for sightseeing. She was no slouch, especially considering her age, but even she had her limits when it came to hours of walking, and eventually she would get tired or hungry.
Food was another consideration. Following gallbladder surgery, she was wary of eating out because of the digestive issues it could cause. That made planning our daily excursions a little trickier, as we couldn’t simply wander around all day and stop at whichever restaurant happened to catch our eye.
So, after a brief walk around the Olympic Park, we decided to call it a day and head back home. I jokingly declared it our warm-up day. Still, it was becoming clear that I would have to temper my ambitions a little. I had plenty of places I wanted to show my mom, and with only a limited amount of time together, I was going to have to choose carefully.
Old Montreal
The following day, we headed into Old Montreal for a stroll around its historic streets, with Notre-Dame Basilica as our main destination.
I had walked past this iconic landmark countless times, but this would actually be my first time stepping inside. We bought our tickets and went in, although I have to admit that the idea of a church charging admission had always struck me as a little odd.
Surely a place of worship should be just that, rather than a tourist attraction with a ticket booth? I suppose Notre-Dame had become such a popular tourist destination that it was no longer quite like an ordinary parish church. Or perhaps the tourist revenue was simply too good to pass up. Who knows? Either way, the arrangement never quite sat right with me.
That said, there was no denying the beauty of the interior. The contrast with the relatively sober exterior was striking. Inside, the basilica was a riot of colour and ornamentation, with elaborate carvings, richly decorated columns, and an immense altarpiece drawing the eye towards the vaulted ceiling.
The deep blue overhead, dotted with golden stars, was particularly impressive, while the stained-glass windows added yet more colour to the already lavish surroundings. The interior had been extensively redesigned in the nineteenth century, and the result was a space that felt almost theatrical in its grandeur.
After our visit, we spent some time around Place d’Armes, one of my favourite squares in the city.
I had previously mentioned the architectural similarities between Montreal and Manhattan. Place d’Armes was one spot where that resemblance was particularly striking, with its imposing historic buildings and turn-of-the-century urban character. By now, the square had also received some modest Christmas decorations.
I say modest in the best possible sense: warm-coloured lights and tasteful ornaments that complemented the surroundings rather than competing with them. I’ve never been particularly fond of the excessive, multicoloured Christmas displays that seem to turn entire streets into oversized festive shop windows. Here, the simpler approach worked beautifully.
Across Downtown
Continuing our walk through downtown, we eventually came across another of Montreal’s major religious landmarks: Mary, Queen of the World Cathedral, or Basilique Marie-Reine-du-Monde. Unlike Notre-Dame, this one welcomed visitors without an admission fee, so we were able to step inside for a quick look around.
Built in the late nineteenth century, the cathedral was modelled after St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, making for a rather different architectural statement from the Gothic Revival style of Notre-Dame. Its grand proportions, Renaissance-inspired design, and ornate Baroque-style baldachin above the altar gave it an unmistakable sense of elegance. The interior wasn’t quite as intricately decorated as Notre-Dame’s, but it had a stately beauty of its own and was well worth a visit.
By the time we finished our visit, daylight had already faded. I was starting to notice a pattern in our daily outings: we tended to get going fairly late, leaving us with a relatively narrow window to explore before darkness set in. With November days growing short and my mom needing a more relaxed pace than I was accustomed to, our sightseeing sessions were inevitably going to be shorter than I’d originally imagined.
Still, there was plenty of time left in the week, and I had something a little more ambitious in mind for our next outing. It was time to venture beyond Montreal.
A Little Getaway
One of the ideas I’d had from the outset for my mom’s visit was to take a short trip outside Montreal for a couple of days. Initially, I thought I might even be able to squeeze in two separate excursions, but as the week progressed, it became clear that one would have to suffice.
I had two destinations in mind: Ottawa and Quebec City. I’d already spent a few days in each on previous occasions, so I had at least some familiarity with both and could show her around without having to figure everything out from scratch. They were also roughly comparable in terms of distance from Montreal, and both were conveniently connected by train.
The prospect of taking the train again was perhaps what excited me the most. It had been many, many years since my last proper train journey in Europe, and I’d always loved that particular way of travelling. There was something about watching the landscape unfold outside the window, without having to worry about driving or navigating, that made the journey itself part of the experience. Now, for the first time, I would get to experience it in Canada.
After discussing the two options and browsing through some photos, we eventually settled on Quebec City. And so, the following morning, we made our way to Montreal’s Central Station. Conveniently located right in the heart of downtown, with its main concourse tucked away beneath the streets, it was a mere fifteen-minute walk from my apartment. Quite convenient.
Back to Quebec City
A smooth train ride and a few hours later, we arrived in Quebec City with little to no delay. As it turned out, I’d picked the perfect day for our little excursion, as it was the only properly sunny day we had during the entire week. The weather was pleasantly mild, making it feel less like a cold, gloomy November day and more like one of those lingering autumn afternoons in mid-October.
It had been quite a few years since my previous visit, back in late 2019, when I’d travelled to the city for a conference. In hindsight, it almost felt like a lifetime ago, considering everything that had happened in between. I was looking forward to rediscovering what is arguably Canada’s most European-looking city, this time without any professional commitments or conference schedules to worry about. Just a leisurely visit, with plenty of time to take in the sights.
From Gare du Palais, Quebec City’s centrally located railway station, we made our way towards the historic Upper Town, climbing the rather steep streets in the direction of the famous Château Frontenac. The station itself was quite a sight, with its château-inspired architecture and imposing façade. It was a fitting introduction to a city that wears its European heritage so visibly.
Along the way, we passed what appeared to be the early preparations for the Christmas market, with wooden stalls still in various stages of assembly. Holiday decorations were already adorning the cozy cobblestone streets and little squares, giving the old quarter a particularly charming atmosphere. It was still a little early for the full festive spectacle, but the city was clearly getting ready for it.
Eventually, we made our way up to the Château Frontenac and the adjoining Dufferin Terrace, one of the city’s most recognizable landmarks and arguably one of its finest viewpoints.
The terrace itself has quite an interesting history. Long before the present-day Château Frontenac existed, this very spot was occupied by Château Saint-Louis, the official residence of the governors of New France and later the British colonial administration. Samuel de Champlain had established his residence here as early as 1620, and the site remained an important centre of colonial government for more than two centuries.
The original buildings were eventually destroyed by fire in 1834, after which a public promenade was developed above the ruins. It was later expanded and renamed Dufferin Terrace in honour of Lord Dufferin, Governor General of Canada, who played an important role in preserving and enhancing Quebec City’s historic character during the late nineteenth century.
Standing there, overlooking the St. Lawrence River, it was easy to appreciate why this particular spot had been so important throughout the city’s history. It was also a wonderful place to simply stop for a moment and take in the surroundings.
Along the City’s Historic Fortifications
As we continued our walk along the terrace, we came across a gentleman dressed in what appeared to be a classic eighteenth-century British military uniform, complete with the traditional red coat. Whether he was part of a historical reenactment or simply adding a little period flair to the surroundings, I couldn’t say. Fortunately, the weather was relatively mild that day. I couldn’t imagine having to stand around in such an outfit during one of Canada’s cold and windy winter days!
Further along the boardwalk, we passed a row of old military cannons pointing towards the St. Lawrence River. One could almost imagine them standing guard, forever protecting Quebec’s capital from potential aggressors approaching from across the water. Hostile ships, invading armies, and the occasional particularly ambitious jumping fish.
The path eventually led us through Parc du Bastion-de-la-Reine, a lovely little green space nestled between Château Frontenac and the Citadel. It offered some spectacular views over the surrounding landscape and the St. Lawrence River, every bit as impressive as those from Dufferin Terrace.
By the time we reached the Citadel, dusk was beginning to settle in. It was clear that Quebec City still had plenty more to offer, but for the day, this would have to do.
A Walk Down Memory Lane
With what little daylight remained, we began making our way back towards the city centre and the apartment I had booked for our stay. Along the way, we passed the Quebec Parliament Building, the lovely gardens in front of it, and the nearby Convention Centre. These places brought back memories of my previous visit in 2019, when Alexandre and I would often wander around this very area after a full day at the conference we were attending.
Back then, we were still relatively new acquaintances, but our friendship was growing quickly. We would spend hours discussing our ambitions and grand plans for the future, particularly our prospects in Canada’s exploration and mining industry. We both envisioned building successful careers, gaining a few years of experience, and eventually striking out on our own. Perhaps even putting together a small team of like-minded and trustworthy people along the way. The possibilities seemed endless, and we were rather enthusiastic about the prospect of building something of our own in Canada.
Despite Alexandre’s occasional criticism of Canadian and North American lifestyles, he wasn’t particularly eager to leave the country either. Quebec, and perhaps Quebec City or Montreal in particular, was somewhere he could genuinely imagine settling down for the long term. Chicoutimi, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. We had our own running jokes about that place and its rather limited appeal to two aspiring European geologists!
Of course, life had other plans. The years that followed brought the pandemic, lockdowns, the loss of research funding, abandoned PhD ambitions, and the raging tempest that was 2021. Eventually, Alexandre decided to give up on the Canadian dream and return to France, while I stayed behind, trying to salvage what I could of the future I had envisioned for myself.
In a somewhat ironic twist, I actually managed to make it into the exploration industry a couple of years earlier than I would have had I completed my PhD. So, in that sense, I hadn’t really abandoned the path we’d once discussed. I’d simply found a different, rather more turbulent route to get there.
Still, things weren’t quite as I had imagined them back in 2019. The ambitions were largely still there, and I had managed to overcome quite a few obstacles along the way, but the journey had left its marks. Some of the people I had expected to share it with were no longer around, and I found myself once again navigating the road ahead largely on my own. It was a familiar feeling, though not necessarily one I was particularly eager to embrace.
An Evening in Old Quebec
Our apartment was conveniently located right in the heart of the city, just a short walk from the Parliament Building. In fact, it was so close that we could even enjoy a lovely view of the building from the kitchen window. Not a bad little place to call home for a couple of days!
After taking some time to rest and recharge following our long day of sightseeing, we headed out for dinner. I had picked Sagamité, a First Nations restaurant nearby, which turned out to be a rather interesting choice. I remember it being a lovely establishment, with the interior decorated with Indigenous artwork and various cultural pieces that gave the place a distinctive atmosphere.
The menu was equally interesting, featuring dishes that weren’t exactly your everyday restaurant fare. I opted for a pasta dish with what I believe was bison meat, although it might have been caribou. Either way, it was something a little different from what I would normally order, and a nice opportunity to try some local Indigenous-inspired cuisine.
After dinner, we ventured out for another little stroll, this time to enjoy the city after dark. The historic streets and squares took on a different character under the evening lights, with Christmas decorations adding to the already picturesque surroundings. We didn’t venture too far, as my mom was understandably getting tired after the day’s activities, but even a short evening walk was well worth it.
It had been a lovely autumn day, followed by a peaceful evening in one of Canada’s most charming cities. We went to bed looking forward to another day of exploring.
Only to wake up the following morning to our first proper winter snowstorm.
Canada…
A Winter Wonderland
Quebec City had awakened under a thick blanket of snow. The forecast wasn’t particularly encouraging either, predicting continued snowfall and strong winds throughout our second day. My mom looked somewhat worried and asked what on earth we were going to do. I just laughed. What did she mean? We were going to head out and continue exploring, of course! It was lovely winter weather!
After all, she had always maintained that she liked snow and winter, so now she was getting the opportunity to enjoy both for several hours. I suspect the issue was less about the weather itself and more about being caught somewhat unprepared for it. Then again, I hadn’t anticipated such a dramatic change either. But after three years in Canada, I had grown accustomed to winter making its sudden appearance whenever it pleased.
We took our time in the morning, eventually checking out of the apartment and venturing into the transformed city.
The difference from the previous day was remarkable. The streets, rooftops, squares and surrounding buildings had all taken on a completely different appearance, with fresh snow continuing to accumulate as the morning progressed. The wind was a constant presence, sometimes little more than a gentle breeze, at other times picking up considerably and sweeping snow across the streets.
Visibility had also dropped significantly.
Where the previous day we could clearly see Château Frontenac while walking up towards it from the lower streets, now the iconic building was barely distinguishable through the haze of swirling snow and grey skies. What would otherwise have been a familiar, albeit picturesque, cityscape had turned into something altogether more mysterious and atmospheric. Almost like a scene from a winter painting.
Honestly, I loved it!
Embracing the Cold
Some streets were considerably more exposed than others, particularly those running in certain directions where the wind seemed to funnel through with little mercy. Fortunately, the layout of the old city meant that we could always turn a corner and find a somewhat more sheltered street or square.
Whenever the cold started getting the better of us, we’d duck into a nearby shop or church, take a little break, warm up and then venture out again. At one point, we even stopped to buy my mom a proper pair of warm gloves, as she’d arrived without any. A small but rather essential addition to her winter wardrobe!
The Christmas decorations that had seemed somewhat understated the previous day suddenly felt much more at home against the snowy backdrop. The warm lights and festive ornaments stood out beautifully against the otherwise muted whites and greys of the winter landscape.
As much as I was beginning to experience a certain degree of winter fatigue after three years in Canada, there were still plenty of things about the season that brought a smile to my face. The first snowfall of the year was one of them. So was that familiar crunching sound of fresh snow beneath your boots as you made your way along a quiet street. I still very much enjoyed winter, at least in those little moments when everything seemed to acquire a touch of magic. Provided it didn’t overstay its welcome, of course!
After several hours of wandering around the snow-covered city, my mom was beginning to tire. We still had quite a bit of time before our return train to Montreal, so I suggested visiting a nearby museum. It would give us a chance to escape the elements for a while, slow things down and enjoy the remainder of the afternoon at a more leisurely pace.
We settled on the Museum of Civilization, where we spent the next few hours exploring its various exhibits. It was a welcome change of scenery after our rather chilly morning, and a good way to round off our sightseeing in Quebec City.
From the museum, it was only another ten to fifteen minutes on foot to reach Gare du Palais. By the time we arrived, darkness had already settled in, and the winter storm appeared to be gradually losing some of its intensity. We had just enough time to get comfortable and wait for our train back to Montreal.
Or so we thought.
The Long Way Back
The delays began almost immediately. At first, it was just a few minutes. Then a few more. Before long, we were looking at a delay of half an hour. Eventually, the train departed, and we could finally settle in for the journey home. Except that wasn’t quite the end of it. Somewhere along the way, we came to an unexpected stop, adding yet another half-hour delay to our already extended journey.
By the time we finally rolled into Montreal, we were running roughly an hour behind schedule. So much for all the praise I had been giving VIA Rail. Not so different than trains in eastern Europe I guess.
Despite the rather drawn-out return journey, we had thoroughly enjoyed our little getaway. In fact, the dramatic change in weather had made the experience all the more memorable. In the space of just two days, we’d gone from mild autumn sunshine to a proper Canadian winter storm, almost as if we’d been handed an express holiday package with two seasons included.
Not a bad deal at all!
A Few More Miles in Montreal
We spent another couple of days exploring Montreal, which was now also covered in a thin layer of snow.
On our first outing, I took my mom westwards towards St. Joseph’s Oratory, one of the many places that had become a regular stop on my own explorations of the city. She enjoyed visiting churches and parks, and I knew this particular walk would be a treat.
Having done it several times before, I was familiar with the route and knew just how pretty it could be: the English-style architecture of Westmount, the peaceful parks and rolling hills, all made even more picturesque by the fresh dusting of snow. It was still snowing that day, but gently, without the unpleasant wind we’d encountered in Quebec City.
On our way back, we crossed Mount Royal Park and, naturally, made a stop at the Kondiaronk Belvedere. It’s practically mandatory for anyone visiting Montreal, offering one of the finest views of the city.
Looking back, we certainly covered some ground during those days. I vaguely remember comparing our pedometer readings, and we were regularly clocking well over 10 kilometres a day. On our most ambitious outing, I believe we reached around 18. My mom’s marathon training was clearly going very well!
For our final full day together, we turned our attention to Saint Helen’s Island and the Old Port. The sun was beginning to peek through the clouds again, and most of the snow had already disappeared. Winter was over. Spring was here!
Just kidding. Winter would stick around for another five months. But every now and then, early in the season, you get one of those days when the snow melts away and the city briefly looks as though it’s preparing for summer. This was one of them.
Consider it the third season included in our express holiday package!
A Market, a Mural, and a Farewell
One of the highlights for me that day was finally taking the time to explore Marché Bonsecours. I’d passed the grand old building in the Old Port on several occasions, but had never actually gone inside. It turned out to be quite an interesting place.
Inaugurated in 1847, it was once Montreal’s principal public market, bringing together farmers, merchants and customers from across the region. Over the years, it also served as a concert hall, housed Montreal’s city hall for more than two decades, and even briefly accommodated the Parliament of the United Canadas in 1849. It was quite a résumé for one building!
Today, the market has a rather different purpose, with boutiques, galleries, exhibitions and other businesses occupying its interior. Still, its history is not entirely hidden away. As I wandered through the building, I remember noticing the impressive structural details and the traces of its former life. It was a fascinating place to explore, and I was glad I’d finally made the effort to step inside rather than simply admire it from the street.
There was one final detour I wanted to make before our time together came to an end: showing my mom my favourite mural in Montreal. The city is well known for its urban art, with murals scattered across its streets and buildings, but one in particular had always held a special place in my heart. It was the mural of Leonard Cohen on Crescent Street.
For a while, I didn’t even know who the famous gentleman depicted in it was. All I knew was that the image itself had caught my attention from the very first time I saw it. An older man wearing a hat, his right hand resting against his chest, gazing out over the street. There was something about the expression and the posture that gave me a peculiar sense of reassurance, almost as though someone were quietly reminding me that everything would be alright whenever I needed to hear it.
It’s funny how we can develop our own personal interpretations of a piece of art, sometimes without knowing much about the person or story behind it. Perhaps that’s part of what makes art so fascinating: the meaning we find in it can become just as important as the meaning its creator intended.
And with that, our little Montreal adventure together came to an end. My mom would soon be flying back to Calgary, where she planned to spend the following months with her sister and her relatives. It wouldn’t be long before we saw each other again, though. I already had a two-week holiday to Calgary planned for Christmas, so this was more of a temporary farewell than a proper goodbye.
Discover more from Odyssey: From east to west
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Odyssian
An adventurous soul in a never ending quest to find home.
Related Posts
- ← Previous