Miscellaneous Montreal

The main access to Montreal from the south is, as has been mentioned, the Jacques Cartier Bridge. It's named after the first European to visit the island – in 1535. He found a community of Iroquoian Indians living in a village called Hochelega. The next contact wasn't until 1605 but, by then, there was no trace of Hochelega, or any of the other villages or peoples that Cartier had recorded.

The first permanent settlement wasn't until 1642, when Paul de Chomedey de Maisonneuve founded what he intended to be a French, Catholic community working in harmony with the native population. That settlement was at the confluence of the St Lawrence and a smaller river called the Little St Pierre. The Pointe-à-Callière Museum stands there now:

It wasn't the ideal place for a village – not only did the two rivers regularly flood, but the natives weren't as friendly as hoped and were wont to attack. Despite this, the village grew to be a major fur-trading centre.

The museum's tower provides a great place to look out over the river and the old town.

This is the Notre Dame Basilica:

Looking north-east along the waterfront of the Vieux Port:

The museum stands on the site of one of the earliest buildings in Montreal, the remains of which can still be seen in the basement. The early settlers used some of the land as a burial ground. A later owner of the land, a cooper by the name of André Papineau, built his outhouse right on top of some of the graves:

The wooden square is what remains of the outhouse.

The Little St Pierre river became an open sewer and was, eventually, covered over. These days, the river has been diverted, but the remains of the covered-over channel are still there:

A later building on the site was the headquarters of the Royal Insurance Company – a very grand building demolished in 1951 after it became unsafe. In the basement of the museum are a number of models showing what the site would have looked like at different points in the past. For some reason, these are under the floor. This is the model showing the insurance building:

The current building was designed to reflect the previous occupant of the site.

Before leaving the waterfront, there's just time to pop back over to the Île Sainte Hélène, the site of the 1967 Exposition. Most of the pavilions were dismantled but the United States one wasn't. It's now called the Biosphere and contains exhibits illustrating various aspects of environmental science. The exterior is pretty impressive:

The interior less so - being rather "preachy".

Elsewhere, Montreal has some fine buildings. Facing Notre Dame is the Bank of Montreal:

This (in two parts because it's too big to fit on one picture) is the Sun Life Building. When it was built, it was the largest building in the British Empire:


This was originally a customs house:

Getting back to Notre Dame, the basilica is very ornate inside:

Although the building was designed by an Irish Protestant, you won't be surprised that he didn't do the interior. The organ has 9000 speaking pipes over 92 stops.

Another feature of Montreal is a huge network of underground shopping malls connected by corridors. There are over 32km of tunnels connecting shops, banks, apartment buildings, museums, exhibition centres, metro stations and, well, pretty much anything else. I imagine that in winter it must be very pleasant to be able to live your entire life without going outdoors.

This picture shows several levels. It was taken from the exhibition centre of the Centre Eaton and looks down past three retail levels to the metro station level. The underground city is as poorly signposted as everywhere else in Montreal, with the added fun that it's not as well mapped as the ground-level streets. Perhaps the Canadians could club together with the Australians and see if they can get a discount on street signs...

Right next door to the Centre Eaton is the Anglican Christ Church Cathedral:


Which is probably as good a place to stop as any.

Montreal is an amazing city – a wonderful combination of France and North America. I've wanted to visit Canada for years and now I have. Of course, there's quite a bit more of Canada than Montreal or even Quebec, but at least it's a start.

Les Jeux Olympiques

In 1971, the International Olympic Committee awarded the 1976 Summer Games to Montreal. Work on the main stadium was intended to start in 1973, but industrial disputes delayed it by 2 years; the last seats were installed in the stadium 4 days before the opening ceremony.

Being the 1970's, the whole area is an ecstasy of concrete – 400 million cubic metres of it.

Actually, that photo is misleading; the tower wasn't completed in time for the games. In fact it wasn't finished until 11 years later in 1987. The stadium is built from a series of concrete sections put together like the segments of an orange. Each segment was balanced so that it was self-supporting. It is a requirement of the IOC that the summer games be played on real grass in the open air, but the original plans for the stadium included a retractable roof which could be closed to allow it to be used during the winter. The weight of the roof would upset the balance of the concrete segments and so the idea was that a flexible roof would be suspended from the tower.

Well, the roof thing never really worked out. When it was eventually installed, it proved unable to stand up to the weather conditions and tore frequently. Neither could it take the weight of the snow that fell on it in winter. Eventually, it was replaced with the current, fixed, fibre-glass roof. This, too, cannot take the snowfall, requiring the space underneath it to be heated to prevent snow build up.

Redundant though it may be for roof-rolling-up purposes, the tower, which is the most-inclined tower in the world, does make a striking landmark on the skyline of the east end of Montreal. It also provides a platform for some pretty stunning views.

You get up the tower on a cable car. You can see it on this picture – about a quarter of the way up the tower;

Looking down from the observation deck, you get a great view of the Olympic Park itself. This was the velodrome, for example:

After the games, the velodrome was converted to what's called the Biodome, where several of Canada's climtic zones have been recreated. It sounded good in the description but, when I got there, I discovered that, along with their language, the French left their attitude to industrial relations:

Where the football field is in this picture was originally a 400m practice track. Behind it, the two pyramid-shaped buildings (one pair is facing away from us) were the Olympic Village, but they're now used as supported accommodation for elderly people:

I can think of worse places to while away the twilight years.

Looking west, you can see the islands in the St. Lawrence river that I sailed past on my boat tour.

The nearest of the crossings on that picture is the Jacques Cartier Bridge as it passes over Île Sainte Hélène. If you zoom in on the picture you can just see the roller-coasters and other rides of the La Ronde amusement park.

North of that last picture is the central business district:

The road leading from the bottom-right corner of that picture is Rue Sherbrooke which must be one of the longest in the city. My hotel was on the corner of Rue Sherbrooke somewhere in the middle of those skyscrapers.

North again is the Mont Royal:

The mountain was named after the King of France by the first French settlers. It was a corruption of Mont Royal that gave the island, and later the city, its name. If you look very closely, you can just see a cross on the top of the mountain. It's dwarfed by, and is a little to the left of, the TV mast. The cross was originally erected in 1643 by Paul Chomedey de Maisonneuve (who founded the city). He had vowed to raise a cross on top of Mont Royal if the town were spared from flooding, a common occurrence for the first settlement which was built at the confluence of two rivers. The town was spared and de Maisonneuve kept his end of the bargain.

Looking straight down, these flags represent all the countries that won gold medals at the games.

Here they are from ground level:

Two of the ones in this picture are from countries which no longer exist. Now, children, can you tell which ones? For a bonus mark, there's a third flag that falls into this category, but it's round the back. What might that be? One flag that isn't there is the Canadian one. Being a generous lot, the Canadians gave all the gold medals to their guests (the first time a host nation had ever failed to win a gold medal. Canada repeated the feat at Calgary, before finally breaking the mould at Vancouver, where they won more than anyone else, presumably to make a point).

Looking back on the return journey, this was the view up the cable railway:

Because the tower curves, so the gradient is not constant, there is a system of hydraulics to keep the cable car horizontal.

Once back on the ground, I took a tour of the stadium itself. As well as the track and field arena, the building also houses the swimming pools, of which there are 6. This is the diving pool, for example (looking much like a diving pool anywhere else in the world):

The arena is now something of a white elephant.

The current (fixed) roof doesn't allow grass to grow so the whole area is covered in concrete. There are also fewer seats than there were for the games. These days the place is used for exhibitions, concerts and the occasional sports fixture (for which artificial grass is laid). It doesn't come close to covering its running costs, and there seems to be a constant threat simmering away in the background simply to demolish the whole place. I hope they don't. Economics can't always be the deciding factor, surely.

Montreal

Certain people, who shall remain nameless, mentioned that my round-the-world trip was a little light on countries. At the same time, it was also mentioned that my trip didn't ever leave the English-speaking world. In one stroke, I have addressed both of those issues.

Looking at a map, it occurred to me that it really wasn't all that far from my aunt and uncle's house in New Hampshire to Canada, and French-speaking Canada at that. So, in only one bus journey, I have increased the number of countries by 25% and there's a whopping 100% increase in the number of languages! And going to Canada means re-entering the Commonwealth and coming under the benevolent wing of HM Elizabeth once again.

The first thing I did was head for the local tourist information office and arm myself with a sheaf of leaflets, brochures and maps and a list of suggestions from the lady I spoke to. Incidentally, this must be one of the grandest entrances to any tourist office anywhere:

Her first suggestion was a boat trip on the St. Lawrence River, just to get a general feel for the place and an initial idea of the history and what kind of things there are to see. Like the boats on the Seine in Paris, this is called a bateau mouche, literally, “fly boat” where this is the insect kind of fly. It seems that this sort of tour boat was first designed in Lyons in what had been the meat-processing area. Naturally, the meat processing attracted lots of flies and the area came to be known as “Mouche” Now, you can believe that or not, all I'm doing is relaying what we were told on the boat.

The view from the river is pretty good, though it flows down one side of the city rather than through the middle as the Seine does. Montreal itself is, of course, built on an island of the same name in the St. Lawrence river but there are two smaller islands just off shore called Île Sainte Hélène and Île Notre-Dame.

Leaving the dock gave us an impressive view of the downtown area:

Almost in the centre you can see the two towers of the Notre Dame Basilica nestling amongst the modern skyscrapers. In the foreground, along the water front is the old town.

The first “landmark” as such was the Clock Tower, completed in 1922 as a memorial to those Canadian sailors who died in World War I.

I don't remember it leaning over, but it certainly looks that way in the picture. You can climb up the tower, but somehow I just never managed to be in the vicinity with both the time and the energy to do it...

A little further along the Montreal side of the river is a more contemporary building:

The original brewery was built in 1786 – apparently the first one in North America though that seems almost impossible to believe – and the company is still partly owned by the Molson family, though now in partnership with Coors.

The main access to the city from the South is across the Jacques Cartier Bridge – an enormous structure over 2 miles (3.5km) long. It's not what you would call a pretty bridge – there are elegant parts of it, but it sort of looks cobbled together to me:


The first picture is the Montreal (north) end of the bridge – the second shows where it passes over Île Sainte Hélène, which is only about half-way along the total length.

Montreal was a major port for the transshipment of grain from the western provinces of Canada (and some of the mid-west of the US) brought to the city by rail and loaded on to ships bound for Europe. Evidence of this part of the history is all along the waterfront:

The Île Sainte Hélène was originally three islands but these were merged together by dumping the spoil from the excavation of the metro system which was built in time for the World Exposition of 1967 – an event that put Montreal in the world's spotlight. The newly-created island was home to many of the pavilions built for the exposition. Most of these have now been dismantled and their place has been taken by an amusement park. This:


is called the monster and it's the biggest traditional, wooden, double-track roller coaster in the world. This is as close as I got to it, so if you're curious about how it feels, you'll need to come to Montreal and try it. I'm not the biggest fan of roller coasters, so, please, do your arms end up above your head or does it make the thrill bigger if you wave them about? It seems to me that I'd be hanging on as tightly as I could in the unlikely event that I ever ended up on the thing in the first place.

Back ashore, I took a little wander through the Old Town. The Old Town is amazingly French in feel:


I suppose that isn't really surprising, but it surprised me all the same; I hadn't, from afar, appreciated just how French Quebec is. For example, as far as I know, a “stop” sign in France says “stop” on it. Not so in Quebec:

When language is one of the things that defines your culture as different from your neighbours' then it has to be as pure as possible. The Dutch-speaking Belgians speak much purer Dutch than the Dutch do. In The Netherlands, English words have been widely adopted into the language, but not so in Belgium where it is important to have as pure a language as possible to differentiate the Flemish from the Walloons. So, what differentiates the Quebecois from other Canadians? Well, many things, probably, but one of the most obvious is language.

Everyone I met spoke English, but virtually every conversation started in French. And a surprising (to me, anyway) number of people spoke quite poor English. Virtually all the advertising I saw was in French. Many signs were only in French. I tried calling the local transport information line and that, too, was only in French. In The Netherlands, an officially mono-lingual country many public services are offered in English as well as in Dutch. Not so in Quebec.

Many years ago, I spoke passable French. The intervening years and the addition of Dutch to my over-stretched brain has buried most of what French I ever knew. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I could remember, but it was a long way from fluency. Sometimes, though, I could not only ask a question, but I could even understand the answer too.

New England

Location: New Hampshire
Distance travelled – 23,702 miles/38.145 km

Nearly there! I'm staying with family in New Hampshire for a few days, so not going to be doing much in the way of tourism. The place I'm staying is right next to this lake:

The lake's at a perfect temperature for swimming!

Normal blogging will resume shortly.

San Francisco

The time I spent in San Francisco wasn't as productive as I'd hoped – I was very tired after the flight and feeling quite down from leaving New Zealand so it took me a couple of days to really get back in the mood.

It didn't help that San Francisco airport had a near-total dearth of information about basic things like how to get into the city on public transport. When I finally found an information stand that actually had a person standing behind it, she was really of very little use – recommending a shared shuttle which was twice the price and quite a bit slower than the BART train which I ended up taking. Now, I know that just sounds like whingeing, but I've arrived in quite a few airports over the last few weeks, and I know it can be done a lot better than SFO do it.

And, that's all I'm saying about San Francisco's tourist information. Oh, except that the information office right by my hotel on Market Street didn't really know much about what they were doing, sending me off on a wild-goose chase that effectively wasted an entire afternoon. They use a number of volunteers in the office, which is great on paper, but only if they actually know what they're talking about. The city should pack the whole lot up and send them to New Zealand if they want to find out how to run tourist information.

However, I did see some of the city, so here are a few fairly random pictures:

Firstly, this is the Ferry Building from the city side:
Prior to the 1989 earthquake that area with all the palm trees was occupied by a two-level elevated highway.

The Bay Bridge, which runs over to Oakland – the bridge has two levels carrying traffic in the two different directions:

And yet another shot of a cable car – this one is crossing Mason Street on its way to Fishermans Wharf via Hyde Street. It crossed my mind that in the most litigious country in the world it's amazing that they still let (encourage) people to stand on the outside of a moving vehicle. Don't get me wrong, it's great that they do, I'm just surprised. My cousin, who is a lawyer, tells me that there is a limit to how much you can sue a public body for and the cable cars are owned and operated by the city.

San Francisco has the largest Chinese population outside China. The area is a riot of colour with hundreds of shops and restaurants:

After the 1906 earthquake, the Anglican Grace Cathedral was built to replace an older church that had been destroyed in the fire. Work didn't actually begin until 1928 and wasn't completed until 1964, but it seems to me that the long wait was worth it.

Even before you get inside, you see these doors:

These are the so-called Doors of Paradise, made from the same moulds as the doors to the baptistry of Florence Cathedral, which were made in the 15^th century.

The interior has many beautiful stained-glass windows including the famous rose window and this one:

which is dedicated to Albert Einstein and includes the famous equation E = mc².

The interior is very much like any other Anglican Cathedral:

There is also a chapel dedicated to victims of AIDS which contained some of the sections of the AIDS quilt – a (now enormous) quilt made up from panels sewn by the friends and families of AIDS victims. It was very moving, and photography didn't seem appropriate. As might be expected of one of the most liberal dioceses of one of the most liberal branches of the Anglican Communion, the cathedral has a very welcoming policy towards gay people. Members of the clergy and laity even took part in the Pride march in June.

Indeed, near the entrance was a plaque emphasising that this was a building for everyone, not just those of a traditional religious viewpoint. A welcome is extended to those of all faiths and none, to those damaged by traditional religions, to those needing to find quiet or peace, to those seeking answers. It seems to me that this is the sort of outreach that Jesus Christ would be offering.

Pier 39 is one of the old fisherman's piers, but is now an entertainment hotspot. Of perennial interest are the resident sea lions:


There are a fair number of sea lions here, but there are times when all of those pontoons are covered in them. The record was set last November at 1,701, though I've no idea who counted them, or how they did it.

When they first arrived, about 20 years ago, the sea lions were treated as a menace, but all attempts to persuade them to move on failed and eventually they were given their own pontoons and are now protected by law.

One of the most distinctive buildings in the city is the Transamerica Pyramid, named after, but no longer occupied by, the Transamerica Insurance Company:

Ghirardelli Square was once a chocolate factory but is now just another collection of bars and cafés.

As its centrepiece, there is this fountain:

It was designed and sculpted by Ruth Asawa in 1968. She wanted to create something that would appeal to all ages. The idea of a nursing mermaid was intended to give back to the old a fantasy of their childhood and to give to the young something to remember when they were old.

And that was it for San Francisco. I'm sure there was much more I could have seen and done, but it was a good visit and it was nice to reacquaint myself with a city I haven't been to for around 15 years.