It was 11 o'clock at night on the streets of Montreal and I was in need of a miracle.  After four hours of delays, including two hours sitting on the tarmac in Chicago (due to bad weather, though oddly enough it was perfectly clear in Chicago and Montreal), I was finally in a cab on my way to my hotel.  I was very hungry - not surprising given that I hadn't eaten in over 10 hours.  I realized that it was very unlikely that I'd be able to find a restaurant open at this time of night, but I desperately needed food.  I searched the streets for a sign of salvation.  And then, just two blocks from the hotel, there it was:  "Tim Hortons - Open 24 Hours"!  Tim Hortons is the big fast food chain in Canada - basically the Canadian McDonalds, except that instead of a soda and fries, the combo meal includes coffee and a donut.  I didn't care though - it was food.  So began my trip to Montreal.

Montreal is part of Canada, so it some ways it feels much like the U.S., with just a few bizarro twists (like ubiquitous Tim Hortons and Van Houttes instead of ubiquitous McDonalds and Starbucks).  However, Montreal is in Quebec and thus it is dominated by French influences, including the official language.  There is however a significant English-speaking minority in the city, and one of the major universities, McGill, is English-speaking.  There has been considerable tension between the francophiles and anglophiles over the years; the province of Quebec has come close to seceding from the rest of Canada a couple times.  Perhaps the greatest source of day-to-day friction is the language.  Since the majority are French-speaking and since the French seem to be rather paranoid about their language and culture, there is a law that all signs must be at least in French.  And beyond that, if they are bilingual, the French version must be larger and easier to read than the English version.  In an Orwellian twist, there are actually "language police", Office quebecois de la langue francaise (believe or not, the link actually has an English language version!) that go around checking to make sure that this law is obeyed.  They even check websites for compliance.  The law has however had unintended consequences.  While the impetus for the law was to limit English influence, it applies to all languages - they all must be subservient to French.  This means that, in theory, in Chinatown the Chinese characters must be smaller and less dominant than the French.  This rather subtracts from the unique character that distinguishes Chinatown.  However, from my tour through the area, it seems that, for the moment anyway, the language police have let Chinatown slide.  Check out the anglophile and francophile positions on these issues.

My usual sidekick Todd joined me a day later for the conference we were attending.  Of course, we did manage to have some fun as well.  Our first stop was at Stade Olympique, or Olympic Stadium.  This was the main stadium for the 1976 Summer Olympics, notorious as the biggest financial debacle in Olympic history - the '76 games nearly singlehandedly killed the Olympic movement.  The stadium includes a retractable roof so the Olympic track and field athletes wouldn't have to suffer under the hot sun.  Of course, the roof wasn't completed until 20 years after the Olympics (and promptly broke soon after), but I guess it's the thought that counts.  (If problems with Olympics stadium roofs sounds familiar, it may be because they're having similar troubles with the roof for the Athens stadium.)  The stadium is currently home to the Expos, the local major league baseball team; although probably not for much longer.  The team has had severe financial problems and sparse attendance for many years (primarily due to ownership incompetence and neglect by the league).  Last year and this year the Expos have played a quarter of their "home" games in Puerto Rico - you know things are bad, when you go to a third world country to boost attendance and revenue.  In any event, the team will be moved elsewhere next year (baseball soon will announce exactly where - or so they say).

Since the team will be leaving, the apathy from the fans is even greater.  During our visit, the place was completely deserted; it felt like a scene out of The Quiet Earth.  True, the team was in Puerto Rico and it was the middle of the day, but it was still eerie.  We found the gift shop, occupied only by the cashier and a guard (I have no idea why they think they need security).   I am quite sure that we were the first (and last) customers of the day.  Perhaps out of  sympathy more than anything else, Todd and I both bought an Expos cap.

Next to the stadium is the Biodome.  No it's not at all related to the Biosphere, the quasi-space habitat  in Arizona (Montreal also has a Biosphere, but it also has nothing to do with the one in Arizona).  The Biodome is sort of an inside zoo, containing four distinct habitats:  a tropical forest, a Canadian forest, a Canada lake/river, and Antarctica.  The place is a magnet for noisy schoolchildren (as we experienced firsthand), but it was worth it to see penguins (which, I later found out, you don't even have to go to Montreal to see them - check here).

For lunch, we went to the quintessential Quebec diner, La Belle Province.  It serves the Quebec delicacy poutine.   This dish contains french fries (or pommes frites, as they call them) smothered in gravy and cheese curds (like dry cottage cheese).  It was really quite good, though a bit salty.  The place also serves hot dogs and when I saw Hot Dog Michigan, I had to try them.  The traditional Michigan-style Coney Island hot dog is topped with chili, mustard, and onions.  La  Belle Province didn't quite have it down - there was no mustard and the chili sauce tasted more like spaghetti sauce.  In any event, the combination of hot dog, cheese curds, chile sauce, and gravy did not go down well; I had to cut short on our foray to Little Italy to get Todd a pasta machine.

Our next adventure was a hike up the Everest of Montreal (note the important modifier: of Montreal).  The name Montreal actually comes from the "mountain" in the town, Mont Royal, a 769-foot peak that overlooks the city.  Being from Colorado, this "mountain" is not particularly impressive, but it is a good hike and there are nice views from the top.  (By the way, I have no idea why the city is called Montreal, using the Spanish word for "royal" - Mont Real, instead of the French word used for the mountain).  On the backside of the mountain is the University of Montreal.  Todd decided he wanted a sweatshirt from the bookstore.  So off we went to find the bookstore.  This is potentially difficult if you don't know that the French word for bookstore is librarie (a library in French is a bibliotheque).  There are actually two bookstores at the university, one of which we had some difficulty finding.  This wasn't because we didn't know the difference between librarie and bibliotheque, but because Todd's one year in Montreal gave him the capability of asking "Where is the bookstore?" in French but not the ability to understand the answer.  We did eventually fiond both, but, alas, both were closed and Todd was out of luck. 

We had dinner at the famous Ben's Deli.  This the Quebec version of the Carnegie Deli in Manhattan (see my New York 2003 trip report).  Their signature dish is smoked meat, which tastes a lot like corned beef (but it's not corned beef).  Like the Carnegie, they pile a huge amount of meat on two small squares of bread (a definite Atkins-approved meal).  And like the Carnegie, they have pictures of famous stars on the walls; however, since they were Canadian stars, I didn't recognize any of them.

The next day was the religious tour.  First, we went to the Notre Dame Cathedral.  I had been to the two other famous Notre Dames, the one in Paris and the one in South Bend, Indiana, so I had to check out the Montreal version.  The cathedral is one of Canada's most sacred places, were spiritual leaders of Canada come for their rituals:  Pierre Trudeau (Canada's former prime minister) and Maurice "The Rocket" Richard (the famous Canadian hockey player) had their funurals there and Celine Dion (Las Vegas lounge singer) was married in the church.

Afterward, we had lunch at Nickels, which is the Canadian equivalent of Denny's - but, oh, it's so much better.  Why?  Because it's owned by Celine Dion!  There were copies of Celine's gold and platinum records on the wall and a few photos, but surprisingly (and thankfully) they didn't constantly play Celine songs.

After lunch, we continued our religious tour at St. Joseph's Oratory.  This is a huge domed chapel (only the dome of St. Peter's in the Vatican is higher) that sits on the slopes of Mont Royal.  We soon discovered that it is a famous pilgrimage site.  Afflicted persons come to the Oratory in hopes of a miracle cure.  They climb the many steps up the hill to the building, on their knees if possible, pausing frequently to pray.  To help make things just a little easier on the pilgrims' knees, the middle section of the steps are wooden instead of concrete.  It was obvious to Todd and I, but apparently not at all obvious to other tourists, that walking non-pilgrims should stick to the concrete steps.  Thus their prayers were constantly being interrupted by oblivious camera-toting tourists clunking up and down the wooden steps. 

The Oratory was the inspiration of Brother Andre (#40 on the list of Top 100 Catholics of the 20th Century! - is this going to be an upcoming VH1 Special?), a diminutive man who preached to the Montreal Catholics and assisted the poor.  His body is entombed inside (his heart however is in a separate, rather gory, display).  We hooked up with an English-speaking tour for a bit and found out that there is push to get Brother Andre declared a saint.  However, there are currently only two miracles ascribed to him and you needa minimum of three to qualify.  The guide asked anyone who experiences a miracle to speak up so that good Brother Andre can finally get his deserved recognition.  It was at this point that I remembered the "Miracle of Tim Hortons" I had experienced a few nights before.  Maybe that miracle was Brother Andre's doing?  However, when I mentioned it to the guide, she said that it probably didn't qualify; what are they looking for - raising someone from the dead?!

Within the Oratory are several chapels and a couple museums.  One museum was dedicated to nativity scenes from around the world - or as Todd called it:  "Nativities 'R Us".  This was quite interesting, though I suspect some Christians might be a little disconcerted by the African, Hispanic, Asian, Australian aborignal, and Inuit Jesuses in the various nativities (you mean Jesus wasn't blond with blue eyes?!).  I was a bit disconcerted myself when I couldn't find an American nativity - afterall, we're just across the border and we do Jesus better than just about anyone.  Todd and I did find a couple American versions eventually, though the U.S. was definitely underrepresented.

Then it was on to the Montreal Musee des Beaux-Arts, or the Fine Arts Museum, one of Canada's best art museums.  One of the more interesting exhibits was "20th Century Decorative Arts", which included cameras, typewriters, an Apple Mac computer, and what looked to be several pieces of furniture from IKEA.  You know you're getting old when your old college dorm furnishings are showing up in a museum.

Our final night in Montreal was a quintessential Canadian experience:  sitting in a sports bar, La Cage aux Sports, watching a Stanley Cup playoff hockey game, and drinking a Molson.  Unfortunately, they aired the French-language broadcast, so we didn't get to enjoy Don Cherry, but life for a Canadian doesn't get much better.