Filed under: English
When Rosie visited I made map of places in Montreal for her to see. It was a map of beautiful things. Well. No. Not beautiful. Photogenic. Not beautiful in the « look at this building » sense. Not awe inspiring places. Out of the way odd but not odd maybe just unexpected. The criterion was : is this a place I’d go back to? The criterion was : is this a place I want to show somebody? The criterion was: is this place an unseen gem?
The map avoided tourist attractions but not because it was trying to just because the unexpected often comes hand in hand with beauty. Beautiful is when you don’t see it coming. Beautiful is when a treasure is found. The criterion for this map was : is this a treasure?
In a way, I made Rosie a treasure map.
The first stop was a church. I like churches. A lot. Oh. Churches, good churches, are spirituality embodied in a building. They are experiences that go beyond the individual. Good churches make you want to whisper. The light in churches smells of candles. Of prayers.
The second stop was the olympic stadium. At night, the place is empty. The darkness makes the great expanse of molded concrete even more dramatic. At night, walking around the stadium feels like being the sole survivor of an apocalypse. You find rincóns where splendid things are hidden. Endless gold coloured parking lots. And that tower.
But that pole.
The fourth stop was a view over rooftops. Long ago, in St-Michel, Italian immigrants built white and yellow brick houses next to a giant dump. The dump has now become a park. And from the bike path you can hear foreign languages.
The fifth stop was a baklava shop. The best. Honey and pistachios. We. Yum. Yes, we yum.
The sixth stop was La Québécoise, home to the homiest poutine and burgers in town. A man who works there wears a mustache net. Right? Right.
Then we went home.