As I write the following, one would find me sitting at the airport in a city and country that have given me a great deal in so little time. In the past two weeks, I have not only explored the recesses of two magnificently beautiful cities, but I’ve also been fortunate enough to glimpse inner recesses of my own being, with a perspective I could not have imagined or planned for (nor did I). When I was informed of the duration of my stay here, I will admit to some initial reservations. Of course, I do not fault myself for this minor ignorance, as I believe drifting outside one’s comfort zone always produces such reactions. However, in hindsight, I am convinced that my stay would not have been remotely as exhilarating and inspiring had I not had the opportunity to explore the locations and experience the sights and sounds of the locales. The following is thus a brief account of my stay in one of the most charming and culturally rich cities I have visited: Montreal (with a brief foray to account for my travels to neighboring Quebec City, as well).
I arrived here on a Sunday evening, and after gathering my luggage and vehicle for the duration of my stay, I set off for my hotel. Upon arriving, I checked in, ascended to the twelfth floor, and turned the handle, as the key card unlocked the door. The room was pleasant, but more astounding was the view from the half-circle window, which spanned across one entire wall. As I stood in the middle of this wall, I was mesmerized by the juxtaposed sight before me: ahead of me, I saw Mont Royal rise above the towering high-rise buildings; to my left was a quaint church, whose exterior radiated a charming, old-world feel; and to my right lay the most spectacular sight I have seen in some time (though, I will provide you a brief preview of accounts to come by saying there were several subsequent locations that provided rivaling views) – the Cathedrale de Marie Reine-du-Monde. With its circular steeples and stunning architecture, I could only gaze in sheer amazement at its elegance and beauty. Taking particular note of the serenity of my surroundings, I settled in for the night and prepared for the week of training that lay before me.
The following week continued to provide me with a sense of personal wonder. I say this in order to encompass many of the thoughts that whirled through my head in the subsequent days. Having already been in Montreal for a two-week period earlier in the year, I found myself feeling more settled in the city, which in turn allowed me to better acquaint myself with the beautiful sights and sounds that it had to offer. The drive to work and back each day, in itself, revived in me a feeling of sheer gratitude and amazement at the position I found myself in each day. Fine dining and the opportunity to practice my French language skills further added to the delightful experience.
Perhaps the highlight of my entire stay, however, was a brief foray to a neighboring city, about 150 or so odd miles northeast of Montreal, Quebec City. My desire to visit the city prompted thoughts of my weekend plans even before my departure to our northern neighbor. Coworkers provided me with brief accounts of their visits, and my decision was finally solidified during the week prior to my trip, after speaking with a native of the city, who provided me with a list of all of the interesting sights to take in.
Having never taken a solo road-trip in the past, I found myself giddy with excitement as the day approached. I gathered a few “road-trip-friendly” items early on a Saturday morning and found myself driving northeast by 8a. After pouring over the numerous printouts that the Quebec City-native I befriended had given me, I decided the night before to travel first to the Montmorency Falls – a beautiful waterfall, just northeast of Quebec City. After a three-hour drive, I found myself in the parking lot of the Montmorency Falls Park, ready to ascend some thirty odd flights of stairs to arrive at the top of the falls. The natural beauty was nothing short of spectacular; though, I will admit that traversing the suspension bridge atop it was something short of terrifying! After satisfying my inner photographer’s quest for the perfect shots, I decided to make my way over the body of water surrounding Quebec City (coincidentally, this is the start of the Atlantic Ocean), towards a small, country island, from where I was able to take in gorgeous views of the Quebec City area.
With two of the three “must-see-locales” checked off my list, I began the trek to Quebec City. As I drove through its streets, the city’s architecture and layout exuded a charming, quaint, old-world European vibe; though interestingly juxtaposed with this nostalgic air was the presence of modern stores and eateries. Arriving at what seemed to be one end of the city, I was welcomed by the towering pillars and castle-like steeples of the Chateau Frontenac, which I learned previously holds the title of the most photographed hotel in the world. After parking, I ventured through a small, pedestrian walkway, between the cobblestone-like brick sides of two buildings, and began speaking to a man selling cityscape sketches and paintings. We spoke of my visit to the city, of the artist whose sketches I purchased, and of the title my home has earned (“The Fattest City” – something we are all undoubtedly proud of, I assure you!) – all in French. It was a brief conversation, but provided me with a sense of pride and accomplishment, as I could visibly see a change in the ease and fluency I possess with the French language. I continued on, trekking across the city, and down to the waterfront, where I visited a row of antique and souvenir shops. Eventually, after satisfying my curiosity and adventurous spirit, I decided the time had come to dine and make the drive back towards Montreal. I found a quaint restaurant, adjacent to the Chateau, where I dined on delicious vegetable soup and an apple-cinnamon crepe. Satisfied, I strolled back to my car and set off for Montreal. En route, I recounted the day’s events in my mind and continued on, with a sense too complex and personal to qualify with words. Suffice it to say, I left Quebec City with a feeling of gratitude for and awe of not only the beauty that surrounded me throughout the day, but also the personal journey I found myself on. Though the excursion was brief, I traveled on knowing that despite this fact, I was able to sail past my reservations and boundaries, expanding those very limitations I’d previously placed on myself.
The following day, I visited two churches in Montreal: L’Oratoire de St. Joseph and La Basilique Notre Dame. The Oratory, which sits atop Mont Royal, provides spectacular views of the Montreal landscapes. The inner chapel was small, but inviting, drawing images of what I would imagine a European countryside chapel to look. The Basilica was perhaps the greatest surprise to me, as its modern architecture and simple room décor were quite the stark contrast from the great chapels I’ve seen in the past. Descending the stairs from the Basilica, to my left I found a Nativity museum, where Nativity scenes from various cultures and regions were arranged together to showcase the very beauty of art and its associated mediums; sculptures of clay, statues of wood, paintings of oil, and figurines of shell, among others, made up the unique displays. I completed the trip with a visit outside, ascending the Basilica steps, in order to capture fantastic views of the island of Montreal. Descending the steps of the oratory, thoughts of awe and inspiration spiraled through my mind. My thoughts rested on the fact that the oratory is a shining example of the power of devotion and passion held by numerous individuals – the very tangible result of the very best in human nature. I turned and marveled one last time at the beauty of its interior and exterior and ventured across the city towards the Notre Dame Basilica.
The stone support pillars just outside the front entrance of the Notre Dame Basilica provide the illusion of an invisible barrier, between the relatively harsh city life and the sanctity of the church itself. Walking through the physical gates, I entered an ornate wooden door, and through to the inner chapel. What greeted my eyes was nothing short of breathtaking. Ornate stained glass and intricate wood works were abundant throughout the interior, with a small staircase (with its own elaborate design work) spiraling up the left side to upper levels. I walked down the center aisle, after snapping several photographs, and gazed in absolute splendor at the sight before me. A concaved wall of stained glass provided a magnificent backdrop for the altar straight ahead. Behind me, the largest organ I have ever seen stood perched on the third floor. After taking a few more photographs, I walked to the back and sat down on a pew. I reveled in the sheer beauty and was (and still am now, in recounting the experience) rendered speechless: I literally sat transfixed for several moments, unable to capture in words the sheer brilliance of the sight before me. A short while later, I exited the building, more inspired and amazed at the positive influences of human nature.
The final week in Montreal passed by as quickly as the first. I hailed this visit for the numerous “firsts” it provided me: I experienced my first winter snowstorm, my first solitary road trip, and even my very first lonesome dining experience. What I have gained from the entire experience, I do not believe I could ever properly assign words to, for the faith and focus it has restored to my life cannot truly be qualified in mere words. I realize these revelations (particularly because I’ve been unable to formulate words to describe them adequately) may not come across as astounding or inspiring as they are felt here in my heart and mind; I hope, however, that through my words and images (which, if you haven’t seen, feel free to ask for), I have been able to convey the very deep meaning this entire journey has had to me. Though two weeks, in relation to the lifetime one has, seems undeniably short, I’ve realized in that very same amount of time that one is capable of accomplishing more than he or she could ever imagine. Ultimately, the beauty of human nature, I’ve determined, is the unpredictability that it brings into each of our lives. Nine months ago, I identified personality traits that begged for attention; six months ago, I realized, though I’d intended to pay particular attention to these points of amelioration, I’d done a seemingly poor job of doing so; three months ago, I came to the conclusion that the detour from the road I’d laid for myself was acceptable; one month ago, I was surprised to see that, although I had veered from the path I’d imagined myself traveling, the one I’d taken ultimately stationed me at the same end point; and now, I sit here knowing that in spite of the six-month detour I eventually found myself having taken, I have grown more than I could have ever imagined. And it is ultimately with this in mind and heart that I bid Montreal a bittersweet farewell.
