Ah, Montreal…

The drive up to Montreal was a pleasant one. Even the Canadian border guard was nice—unexpectedly so (and, I have to admit, very easy on the eyes). In all the times I’ve made this trip, I’ve always found it a bit odd that the Canadian guards tend to be the stern ones while the Americans are usually more relaxed. I suppose I’ll find out on the return trip whether that still holds true. One can hope for consistency… or at least a repeat of yesterday’s good fortune.

But enough about border crossings.

It felt wonderful last night to wander through the Village again and to be reminded what it’s like to be in a real city—energy, movement, people everywhere. It’s something I don’t get nearly enough of, and I’ve missed it more than I realized.

My hotel room also came with an unexpected gift: a beautiful view of the St. Lawrence River. There’s something calming about watching the water, especially in the early morning light.

And speaking of morning—I actually slept in. That alone feels like a luxury, and it’s why this post is a bit later than usual.

Now, it’s time for a proper start to the day: breakfast, a good cup of coffee, and then out to explore more of Montreal.

About Joe

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I began my life in the South and for five years lived as a closeted teacher, but am now making a new life for myself as an oral historian in New England. I think my life will work out the way it was always meant to be. That doesn't mean there won't be ups and downs; that's all part of life. It means I just have to be patient. I feel like October 7, 2015 is my new birthday. It's a beginning filled with great hope. It's a second chance to live my life…not anyone else's. My profile picture is "David and Me," 2001 painting by artist Steve Walker. It happens to be one of my favorite modern gay art pieces. View all posts by Joe

One response to “Ah, Montreal…

  • furbirdsqueerly's avatar furbirdsqueerly

    Hi Joe

    Have a wonderful time. I know what you mean about being in a large city. I have always found it to be refreshing. A ? where is the little cutie Isabella? When we use to go away our kitty would act very cool to us when we came back home and would run upstairs and scratch the good rug. Only time he did that.

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