Monday morning came on dark and wet. The weather channel radar suggested that the rain would end and so we left our room with the goal of conquering Mt. Royal. The clerk at the desk provided us with a map and info about transportation and the location of the foottrail if we wanted to hike to the summit. He seemed to suggest that the hike would be a walk in the park. We later discovered that the park had a steep vertical grade.
We ate a light breakfast while watching a workman dismantle the coffee shops deck as the seasonal closure of St Catherines Street had come to an end.
After a metro trip and 2 buses we thought we were well on our way. It is an unfortunate oversight on the part of Montreal that there are no signs or indications that the bus has arrived at the summit and you should get off if that is your destination. We figured this out when we found ourselves at the base of Mt Royal on the opposite side from where we had started. We managed to find our way around the mountain's base and located the stairs pictured on our map that would start us up to the summit on foot and began our assent.
The trail, as I mentioned, had a steep grade. The skies had begun to clear and the day began to warm up. However, the Olmsted landscaping, he also designed New York's Central Park, kept us shaded and cool. We reached a small pond with restrooms, which were welcomed, and picnic tables. We ate the lunch we had brought with us and continued on. We soon came upon a large expanse of lawn peppered with modern sculptures. After exploiting this photo op we found an arrow sign pointing to the summit.
A large plaza with a stone balanstrate along the mountain's edge greeted us. It afforded a panoramic view of the city below. Modern, muscular highrises shared the streets with smaller buildings whose copper clad mansard roofs wore the bluegreen patina of age. My friend remarked "This is more that I thought it would be. I thought we might find a wooden platform reached by stairs."
After we departed, a short walk found us at one of the bus stops we had rode past earlier in the day. As we waited for the bus that would return us to the metro station and more familiar environs my friend noted "There appear to be two ways to get to the summit. We took both."
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Montreal - On Sunday We Went to Church
Sunday we decided we would investigate the historic architecture of the financial district and visit the cathredral,which we were informed was a "must see" destination.
As we left the hotel that morning, we asked the desk staff for recomendations for breakfast. As it was prime Sunday breakfast hour, the resturant that they suggested was running at capacity but we were seated quickly and placed our orders. When our meals arrived they were accompanied by mounds of fresh fruit. There were fruit slices over the straws in our drinks. Strawberries, slices of melon and pineapple and apples cut to resemble curling ribbon almost buried the traditional eggs, toast and potatoes. Waddling out of the resturant and full of vitamin C we boarded the metro to head to the business district.
During the ride we noticed a very handsome and well built Canadian lad texting. My friend murmered "Oh baby, text me in French." I suggested that his text probably read "There are 2 stupid Americans on the train" in French of course.
The older buildings of the financial district were beautifully ornamented and also showed the French influence evident in many of the older portions of the city. As it was Sunday, the streets were quiet and almost deserted. Our footsteps echoed in the urban canyons as we wandered admiring the architecture of the area.
The cathedral is a jewel box of stained glass, carved wood and soaring organ pipes. The windows, depicting scenes from Canadian history in rich lush colors, look medeival in their design and inspiration. There is also a smaller chapel with a ultra modern motif, but it pales in comparison to it's larger cousin.
After lunch on the outdoor deck of one of the resturants on the main square in the old town, we visited a 19th century shopping arcade. One of the vendors suggested that since the following day was Monday and most museums and state run historical sites would be closed, that we should take in the view from Mt Royal, the highest point in the city.
As we left the hotel that morning, we asked the desk staff for recomendations for breakfast. As it was prime Sunday breakfast hour, the resturant that they suggested was running at capacity but we were seated quickly and placed our orders. When our meals arrived they were accompanied by mounds of fresh fruit. There were fruit slices over the straws in our drinks. Strawberries, slices of melon and pineapple and apples cut to resemble curling ribbon almost buried the traditional eggs, toast and potatoes. Waddling out of the resturant and full of vitamin C we boarded the metro to head to the business district.
During the ride we noticed a very handsome and well built Canadian lad texting. My friend murmered "Oh baby, text me in French." I suggested that his text probably read "There are 2 stupid Americans on the train" in French of course.
The older buildings of the financial district were beautifully ornamented and also showed the French influence evident in many of the older portions of the city. As it was Sunday, the streets were quiet and almost deserted. Our footsteps echoed in the urban canyons as we wandered admiring the architecture of the area.
The cathedral is a jewel box of stained glass, carved wood and soaring organ pipes. The windows, depicting scenes from Canadian history in rich lush colors, look medeival in their design and inspiration. There is also a smaller chapel with a ultra modern motif, but it pales in comparison to it's larger cousin.
After lunch on the outdoor deck of one of the resturants on the main square in the old town, we visited a 19th century shopping arcade. One of the vendors suggested that since the following day was Monday and most museums and state run historical sites would be closed, that we should take in the view from Mt Royal, the highest point in the city.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Monteral - An Aside
No trip to Montreal should be considered complete without ogling the handsome and virile looking members of the local Police force. As we admired them, in their uniforms which seemed a trifle more snug than absolutely necessary, we constantly wanted to ask "Exactly what crime would I have to commit that would compel you to pat me down?"
Montreal - The Olympic Stadium and Botanical Gardens
Saturday dawned bright, warm and with a clear blue sky. Now, least you think all we did was drink alchohol and watch naked men dance, after breakfast we headed off to the Olympic Stadium and Botanical Gardens.
The Stadium, with it's soaring observation tower, is monumental enough that it can be seen from many, if not most, parts of the city. A short distance up a hill are the Botanical Gardens.
They are divided into themed areas. Traditional English and Asian gardens. Another area exhibiting plants native to harsh, cold, rocky terrain. Looking for the restrooms I came upon a hidden courtyard filled with a large variety of Bonsai trees. A tram runs along the road connecting the various displays to carry visitors from one area to another.
We had lunch in another courtyard area, this one with a fountain in it's center, across from the greenhouses. After lunch, upon entering the greenhouses, we found ourselves in a world of foliage so lush it seemed to have the ability to absorb the sounds and voices of the people around us.
After our visit to the gardens, we headed back to St Catherine Street to check out some of the shops we had seen on our earlier visits. We ended the afternoon, shopping bags in hand, at the rooftop deck of one of the bars on the street. As it was Saturday afternoon with pleasant temperatures and a sunny, clear blue sky the deck was busy and crowded. We found a table, ordered drinks and relaxed as the beautiful afternoon waned.
The Stadium, with it's soaring observation tower, is monumental enough that it can be seen from many, if not most, parts of the city. A short distance up a hill are the Botanical Gardens.
They are divided into themed areas. Traditional English and Asian gardens. Another area exhibiting plants native to harsh, cold, rocky terrain. Looking for the restrooms I came upon a hidden courtyard filled with a large variety of Bonsai trees. A tram runs along the road connecting the various displays to carry visitors from one area to another.
We had lunch in another courtyard area, this one with a fountain in it's center, across from the greenhouses. After lunch, upon entering the greenhouses, we found ourselves in a world of foliage so lush it seemed to have the ability to absorb the sounds and voices of the people around us.
After our visit to the gardens, we headed back to St Catherine Street to check out some of the shops we had seen on our earlier visits. We ended the afternoon, shopping bags in hand, at the rooftop deck of one of the bars on the street. As it was Saturday afternoon with pleasant temperatures and a sunny, clear blue sky the deck was busy and crowded. We found a table, ordered drinks and relaxed as the beautiful afternoon waned.
Montreal - Old Town and Beyond
Our first stop was a church. The oldest in Montreal. It had been built, burned, rebuilt and modified a number of times over the centuries. A wall in a side hallway told in detail the history of it's various incarnations. After our visit to the church, we wandered though the old city. It's narrow streets and broad plaza all showed the influence of it's French origins. Perhaps inspired by this we stopped at a creperie for lunch and then headed back to the hotel.
Our room was spare but spacious, comfortable and we were to discover, ideally located for our activities over the next few days. A metro hub station was 2 blocks away and there was a wide choice of restaurants, not to mention gay bars, in the area.
We soon discovered St Catherine Street strung with banners depicting red roses and closed to car traffic with it's, as I mentioned earlier, restaurants, shops, clubs and bars, their decks extending across the sidewalks into the street. We were to do much of our eating, and most of our drinking, there during our stay.
Friday night after dinner, we decided to explore some of the gay establishments in the neighborhood. After brief stays at a couple of places we wandered into one of the areas stripper bars.
We found ourselves in a nicely appointed room with tables, chairs and a stage with a pole. Pretty much what one would expect. A rather young, barechested man was cavorting onstage. He left and another man came onstage, tattooed and thickly muscled. After a few moments of suggestive movements, he did a back flip much to the delight of the crowd. He also left the stage with his pants zipped up and intact. We were soon to discover that each entertainers first dance was an appetiser - we were about to experience the main course. Apparently, there are no laws prohibiting completely nude male dancing in Montreal. As some dancers, all appeared to be well under thirty and with better than average physiques, took their turns on the stage, others worked the room, while two, inexplicably, played a game of barechested pool. A tall blond came to our table to suggest a "private dance". We politely declined. It was then I noticed that even when completely naked, the dancers still wore their watches. We decided it was probably to ensure the "private dances" did not exceed their allotted time limit.
As we strode down the street towards our hotel, my friend noticed a sign reading "Campus" spelled out in rainbow letters over a door that led to a steep flight of stairs.; He suggested that we add it to our agenda for the next evening. The next night we found, up the flight of stairs, another stripper bar. It was somewhat seedier than the first but some of the same dancers seemed to work at both places. At this venue, however, they did not wear their watches.
Our room was spare but spacious, comfortable and we were to discover, ideally located for our activities over the next few days. A metro hub station was 2 blocks away and there was a wide choice of restaurants, not to mention gay bars, in the area.
We soon discovered St Catherine Street strung with banners depicting red roses and closed to car traffic with it's, as I mentioned earlier, restaurants, shops, clubs and bars, their decks extending across the sidewalks into the street. We were to do much of our eating, and most of our drinking, there during our stay.
Friday night after dinner, we decided to explore some of the gay establishments in the neighborhood. After brief stays at a couple of places we wandered into one of the areas stripper bars.
We found ourselves in a nicely appointed room with tables, chairs and a stage with a pole. Pretty much what one would expect. A rather young, barechested man was cavorting onstage. He left and another man came onstage, tattooed and thickly muscled. After a few moments of suggestive movements, he did a back flip much to the delight of the crowd. He also left the stage with his pants zipped up and intact. We were soon to discover that each entertainers first dance was an appetiser - we were about to experience the main course. Apparently, there are no laws prohibiting completely nude male dancing in Montreal. As some dancers, all appeared to be well under thirty and with better than average physiques, took their turns on the stage, others worked the room, while two, inexplicably, played a game of barechested pool. A tall blond came to our table to suggest a "private dance". We politely declined. It was then I noticed that even when completely naked, the dancers still wore their watches. We decided it was probably to ensure the "private dances" did not exceed their allotted time limit.
As we strode down the street towards our hotel, my friend noticed a sign reading "Campus" spelled out in rainbow letters over a door that led to a steep flight of stairs.; He suggested that we add it to our agenda for the next evening. The next night we found, up the flight of stairs, another stripper bar. It was somewhat seedier than the first but some of the same dancers seemed to work at both places. At this venue, however, they did not wear their watches.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Montreal = Too Much Fun
Every summer Montreal's St Catherine Street, which is lined with restaurants, gay clubs, bars and bathhouses and a variety of small shops, is closed to car traffic for the season. The restaurants and bars build temporary decks which reach into the middle of the street and evenings bring a wealth of people watching. We were unaware of this tradition and just happened to plan our visit during the last weekend of the street closure. Our hotel was 3 blocks away.
While we did avail ourselves of the excellent food and a certain amount of drunken revelry we discovered there is more to recommend Montreal than just this.
Charming old Montreal makes one feel as if they have been transported to provincial France. The city's financial district, with it's mix of modern highrises and late 19th century office buildings feels like Chicago's loop. The botanical gardens with their rich variety of themed plantings and excellent greenhouse displays is well worth the price of admission. There is also the view of the city from the summit of Mt. Royal.
As memorable and enjoyable as the trip turned out, things did not begin well. Due to a problem with my name my airline ticket was declared invalid. After several phone calls and much back and forth with a very disagreeable desk agent plus $150 in fees to correct the name on the ticket we were allowed to board our early morning flight.
The flight itself was uneventful. Even the sometimes chaotic procedure of getting on and off the plane and stowing and retrieving carry on bags went smoothly due to the small number of people traveling that morning. Upon landing we collected our luggage, purchased transit tickets and boarded the bus for the trip into the city. We got off the bus and after a very brief period of disorientation and confusion, found our way to our hotel.
That is where our next problem began. Due to past issues there was a flag placed on the credit card that had been used to reserve our room. After another fairly lengthy phone call (at roaming rates) this too was resolved. Our room wasn't ready so we stashed our luggage in a locker located in the basement of the hotel and headed out on foot, city map in hand, towards old Montreal, a pleasant 20 minute walk away.
While we did avail ourselves of the excellent food and a certain amount of drunken revelry we discovered there is more to recommend Montreal than just this.
Charming old Montreal makes one feel as if they have been transported to provincial France. The city's financial district, with it's mix of modern highrises and late 19th century office buildings feels like Chicago's loop. The botanical gardens with their rich variety of themed plantings and excellent greenhouse displays is well worth the price of admission. There is also the view of the city from the summit of Mt. Royal.
As memorable and enjoyable as the trip turned out, things did not begin well. Due to a problem with my name my airline ticket was declared invalid. After several phone calls and much back and forth with a very disagreeable desk agent plus $150 in fees to correct the name on the ticket we were allowed to board our early morning flight.
The flight itself was uneventful. Even the sometimes chaotic procedure of getting on and off the plane and stowing and retrieving carry on bags went smoothly due to the small number of people traveling that morning. Upon landing we collected our luggage, purchased transit tickets and boarded the bus for the trip into the city. We got off the bus and after a very brief period of disorientation and confusion, found our way to our hotel.
That is where our next problem began. Due to past issues there was a flag placed on the credit card that had been used to reserve our room. After another fairly lengthy phone call (at roaming rates) this too was resolved. Our room wasn't ready so we stashed our luggage in a locker located in the basement of the hotel and headed out on foot, city map in hand, towards old Montreal, a pleasant 20 minute walk away.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Why I Call Chicago Home
At the age of 27, I left San Francisco and moved to what I consider to be one of the great cities of the world. It is a metropolis, but, unlike some cities such as New York, Paris and London, a metropolis where a comfortable life is affordable. Our home is modest but entirely adequate for our needs. Most of our closest friends live nearby. In our neighborhood of streets shaded by massive overhanging trees, lined with vintage courtyard apartment buildings and victorian four square homes there is a sense of community. Friends and neighbors meet at the grocery store, bars and restaurants and on the street. Not only friends but strangers acknowledge and greet each other.
We are fortunate to live steps from a beach on lake Michigan in one of the midcentury highrise buildings that line the lakeshore like sentinels. A 30 minute bus ride carries me to a wealth of theatre world class museums and architecture and an occasional concert in Millennium Park. It's Frank Ghery designed bandshell resembles unspooling ribbons of steel. The state of the art sound system hung on a trellis above the lawn gives crystal clarity to every stroke of the piano keys and vibration of the strings played by the musicians within. The park's mirror like Cloudgate sculpture reflects the changing sky and cityscape as well as the crowds surrounding it.
There is the Lincoln Park Zoo which charms not by it's collection but it's lushly landscaped setting. At it's entrance, across an expanse of lawn, is the conservatory, a classical glass structure filled with a collection of plants that vary by the season. Ther is the Lily Pond behind the zoo, a quiet, secluded spot with Frank Loyd Wright inspired pavilions and natural landscaping. These venues are free and offer friends and family an opportunity to while away an afternoon sharing time with each other in the beauty of the park.
The city is known for it's restaurants and although we do not eat out often we have our favorite neighborhood places. The "burger joint" with the treefilled garden dining area or the tiny pizzaria with it's beautifully restored Art Deco interior.
All but one small portion of the Lake Michigan shoreline is public property. Beaches and rich green parkland dotted with playing fields, tennis courts, bird santuaries, fountains, statuary and winding jogging and biking paths all sharing views of our spectacular architecture form the eastern boundry of the city.
Michigan Avenue, the part of the city most familiar to tourists, holds a bounty of greenery, which again varies by the season, on either side of the street and in the median strip that runs down it's center. Jazz age skyscrapers, with influences ranging from gothic to art deco, abut more modern steel and glass highrises along it's broad airy expanse.
By contrast, our financial district is a grid of narrow streets made canyon like by the buildings that line them. I find myself, even after this many years, dicovering ornamentation and textures in these buildings I had not noticed before.
Our museums also have the ability to startle with new discovery. Wether you find yourself wandering through the galleries of the Art Institute, with it's amazing collection of impressionist masterworks, or the Field Museum, housing the world's largest collection of Native American artifacts, as well as the massive skeletal remains of a T-Rex affectionately named Sue.
The city boast an impressive colleciton of public art well. Our famous Picasso is a Chicago icon. There are also sculptures by Calder, Miro and Oldenburg, and a four sided mosaic by Chagall.
Ther are hidden, little know treasures. The Stained Glass Museum tucked into the back corridors of Navy Pier, many pieces rescued from homes, churches and public buildings. The world's largest Tiffiny Glass dome can be found in the Cultural Center, once Chicago's Public Library. There is also the Tiffany mosaic tile dome in Marshall Fields (now Macy's) landmark State Street store. At Christmas the 7th floor Christmas tree in Macy's is well worth a visit.
I feel both fortunate and grateful to make my home in a palce that constantly and consistently has the ablilty to surprise me, igniting my senses and replenishing my soul.
We are fortunate to live steps from a beach on lake Michigan in one of the midcentury highrise buildings that line the lakeshore like sentinels. A 30 minute bus ride carries me to a wealth of theatre world class museums and architecture and an occasional concert in Millennium Park. It's Frank Ghery designed bandshell resembles unspooling ribbons of steel. The state of the art sound system hung on a trellis above the lawn gives crystal clarity to every stroke of the piano keys and vibration of the strings played by the musicians within. The park's mirror like Cloudgate sculpture reflects the changing sky and cityscape as well as the crowds surrounding it.
There is the Lincoln Park Zoo which charms not by it's collection but it's lushly landscaped setting. At it's entrance, across an expanse of lawn, is the conservatory, a classical glass structure filled with a collection of plants that vary by the season. Ther is the Lily Pond behind the zoo, a quiet, secluded spot with Frank Loyd Wright inspired pavilions and natural landscaping. These venues are free and offer friends and family an opportunity to while away an afternoon sharing time with each other in the beauty of the park.
The city is known for it's restaurants and although we do not eat out often we have our favorite neighborhood places. The "burger joint" with the treefilled garden dining area or the tiny pizzaria with it's beautifully restored Art Deco interior.
All but one small portion of the Lake Michigan shoreline is public property. Beaches and rich green parkland dotted with playing fields, tennis courts, bird santuaries, fountains, statuary and winding jogging and biking paths all sharing views of our spectacular architecture form the eastern boundry of the city.
Michigan Avenue, the part of the city most familiar to tourists, holds a bounty of greenery, which again varies by the season, on either side of the street and in the median strip that runs down it's center. Jazz age skyscrapers, with influences ranging from gothic to art deco, abut more modern steel and glass highrises along it's broad airy expanse.
By contrast, our financial district is a grid of narrow streets made canyon like by the buildings that line them. I find myself, even after this many years, dicovering ornamentation and textures in these buildings I had not noticed before.
Our museums also have the ability to startle with new discovery. Wether you find yourself wandering through the galleries of the Art Institute, with it's amazing collection of impressionist masterworks, or the Field Museum, housing the world's largest collection of Native American artifacts, as well as the massive skeletal remains of a T-Rex affectionately named Sue.
The city boast an impressive colleciton of public art well. Our famous Picasso is a Chicago icon. There are also sculptures by Calder, Miro and Oldenburg, and a four sided mosaic by Chagall.
Ther are hidden, little know treasures. The Stained Glass Museum tucked into the back corridors of Navy Pier, many pieces rescued from homes, churches and public buildings. The world's largest Tiffiny Glass dome can be found in the Cultural Center, once Chicago's Public Library. There is also the Tiffany mosaic tile dome in Marshall Fields (now Macy's) landmark State Street store. At Christmas the 7th floor Christmas tree in Macy's is well worth a visit.
I feel both fortunate and grateful to make my home in a palce that constantly and consistently has the ablilty to surprise me, igniting my senses and replenishing my soul.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)