Joie de vivre

It was Friday night. The sun was sliding towards the horizon, casting its warm glow through the trees lining the narrow streets and gently caressing the age old buildings. Winding stairs reaching to the upper stories of colonial era apartments, to ghosts that must have a few stories to tell.

The atmosphere was electric and energetic, but far from frenetic. "Apportez votre vin" displayed in restaurant windows invited bottles into the hands of restaurant goers clutching them with a sense of glee as they moved towards their destinations.

The restaurants lining the streets could compete with UN representation: Italian, Greek, French, Korean, Japanese, de l'Ile de Reunion, Moroccan, Vietnammese, Afghan. All of them chock full and brimming with musical chatter, clinking glasses and laughter. I felt as if I had been transported to Europe, Paris perhaps. And yet it had only been a four hour flight.

Same country, different world.

Can it really be the first time in 30 years that I have set foot East of Calgary in my own country? Why have I waited so long? (I asked myself that question quite often particularly after noticing very quickly the high concentration of incredibly attractive men :).

From the moment we landed the differences started, not just the atmosphere, the language as well. French first, then English over the announcements. Signage the same. Music to my ears and poetry for my mind. I have always felt lucky (well in my adult life for sure) that my parents put me in French immersion, but it was here that I felt proud that as a Canadian I am able to speak both national languages. I appreciated that here, when I spoke French, they responded in French. Unlike in France where they will jump to English, if they can, at the slightest indication that you are not French; both parties vying for the opportunity to practice our respective second languages.

For three days in Montreal I feel as though I languished and soaked in as much as I could of this city and it's enraptured joie de vivre. And now, time is too short for I am sad to leave. When people all around me are enjoying the outdoors, running, biking, playing, it's hard for me not to just grin in happiness for them and myself as their witness.

I was captivated by the parks that were everywhere and full of small to large groups participating in impromptu baseball games, throwing a football or tossing a frisbee, practicing their balance on slacklines, playing music (a lone violin, a group of guitars or the full on Tam Tam drumming experience) or just enjoying a bottle of wine and a picnic on a blanket. The language, the parks, the streets, the shops, the motorbikes (Ducati heaven), the people watching, the whole package. And now the desire for more. I will be back. That I know.

Joie de vivre is a hot commodity in my bank these days.