Author: Wendy's Out of Station

Today (in the rain), having finished a major piece of writing, I went back to the Montreal Museum of Fine Art Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal, but this time not to An afternoon of Art and our old Parisian friend Lautrec. Today I went with a local friend, and many many other Montrealers seeking respite from the rain, and journeyed back about 2000 years to Pompeii. It was a great exhibition, some brilliant pieces that I hope you will enjoy, but the layout and the lighting left plenty to be desired. But enough of my thoughts, let’s go to Pompeii!  Starting with a little statuary, as you do – just love the detail in bronze and marble. The hair. And do you see how the folds in the woman’s cloak were originally added in lengths fitted in to make the flow of the fabric? Just exquisite workmanship to make the layers of marble cloth all fall so naturally. Apologies for the gratuitous selfie.

And what lady would be without her jewels? Sorry there weren’t many.

Sadly too many of us get kitchen and eating utensils rather than gold jewels, but you have to say these are pretty special. I mean look at that strainer!

And you have to love some glass from the eastern Empire.

And some more bronze. Not sure I’d like to pop down to the shop for a “head” weight of lentils though. Continue reading “Pompeii”

Well after around 10 weeks walking around my local area, around Mile End, up to Jean Talon and into Little Italy, then between here and Université de Montréal  I thought I would share with you some of the local street architecture. I do have a collection of more “special” architecture around Old Montréal, a warehouse that’s captured my imagination, some pretty interesting wall art, and a selection of churches, but be patient, I still have 20 days here to add to those! And yes, I’ve done a LOT of walking.

The picture up the top – that’s been my home this last 10 weeks, and I’m not sure that I’ll miss the stairs. The no parking sign – that means that every Thursday in the months when there is no snow, between 1230 and 1330, you will be booked for parking there as the street sweeping truck needs to clean. The other side of the road is a different day.

My street, my coffee shop’s outdoor area, and my God it’s been hot! Humid even for a Brisbane girl.

With the long nights, heat, and apartment living the local parks are full to overflowing. I didn’t feel comfortable photographing, just believe me there was never an angle without spying on some family, a spare square meter to put your rug, or for that matter clean air. Well unless you want to join the ducks in the lake. The desire to burn wood in small portable barbeques meant it was really smokey. But restaurants abound and some nights even the icons come out for a walk and a drink.

Below is a view of Université de Montréal from the Oratory, remember Stairway to knowledge and A Turkish Muslim, a Canadian Hindu and an Australian agnostic go into a Catholic Basilica ? And yes it was about to storm, well as much as it storms here, not like Brisbane. Continue reading “Streetscapes of Montreal”

Apologies for the silence, all i seem to be doing at the moment is study (appropriate with 29 days to go) and sleep. Lots of sleep. Not sure why, but I seem to need it. Anyway, yesterday I went out and two people I spoke to commented on my lovely accent. The second went on to ask if I was Italian so we’ll ignore him. But the first was in the wonderful Bagel shop I’ve been frequenting – best bagels in the world, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Anyway, this lovely guy asked me if I’d brought my didge, we laughed and it reminded me of a late night dialogue there a couple of weeks back that I’d forgotten to share with you:

Me digging in my purse for the right coins while the patient service lady waits.

Lady: “One more dime.”

Me: “What’s a dime? We don’t have them in Australia.”

Lady: “5 cents.”

Guy pulling bagels from the over: “Yes you do, in Sydney.”

Me, looking up surprised and smiling: “No, I’m pretty sure we don’t have dimes in Australia.”

Guy: “Yes in Sydney, there’s a bagel store in Sydney now.”

Me smiling: “Really? But no dimes.”

Guy: “Yes, in Sydney.”

I really should get out more often.

Musical accompaniment Claude Debussy –
The Girl with the Flaxen Hair, La fille aux cheveux de lin

I decided it was time to break free of the last 3 week’s illness and actually get out for the day, do something fun, maybe even spoil myself. Besides which you must be getting sick of pictures of berries by now. My “plan” had me doing a full day trip out to the Olympic site and Planetarium, but a sleep-in after binge watching Season 3 of The 100 till 4am put paid to that. So I headed downtown for some French culture instead.

First stop was a bookshop near McGill to get a text for my Paris seminar – thankfully they had an English version. Armed with that, I headed up Sherbrooke to the Montreal Museum of Fine Art Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal

I think I spent three hours just wandering. First, yes the Lautrec ladies
(do click on them so they’re larger and you can see the detail, the eyes, the humanity)

Continue reading “An afternoon of Art”

The soundtrack to this post is Rufus Wainwright, Hallelujah, from Shrek, of course

After 11 days stuck around the apartment with flu that had me sounding alternately like Darth Vader, or a pack-a-day smoker, I felt well enough yesterday to head back up through the streets of Little Italy to Jean-Talon market. I just love the curbside gardens, they’re gorgeous. I even sung aloud to my headphones on the way! 

I mean, LOOK at that garlic!!

Had a great coffee, ok and a chocolate croissant. Got kale and kohlrabi and tahini and lemons and made an amazing salad. Bought berries and incredible hot smoked salmon and mackerel. I mean aren’t they the most adorable little squash in their baskets? All in all a sunny Sunday, something to celebrate with many smiles, flowers, bees and berries.

And every breath we drew was Hallelujah…

Jean said this week “If a thing happens twice, it is possible it can happen a third time.” Well, we just had our third national parade of the month – albeit impromptu this time and any holiday tomorrow will be sick-leave. There is clearly a large Portuguese community in Montreal and they were all out celebrating some soccer victory this evening. I don’t know.

Anyway, I went for a walk to investigate the horn blasts I could hear, maybe get a coffee, and 9,000 steps later I’m home with a headache. Up close the horns were more constant than a Mumbai traffic jam. Crazy, good-natured fun. The line of cars jammed along Saint-Urbain must have been more than 2km long at one stage. All along people were out on their balconies waving. Hundreds of people were walking like me along the side of the street, in the bike lanes, dodging through the cars. Everyone was happy, laughing. Just crazy. Bet I’m not the only one with a headache tonight though, and mine’s just from the noise. But why would you stay home on a warm night when there’s a spicy Portuguese party in the streets?

Here’s another late post, visited the Huron-Wendake first nation village outside Quebec City on 2nd July and had an amazing experience. Part of the delay has been not really knowing just how to write about it.

We arrived in the rain and quickly joined the next English language tour. I suspect we were the only native English speakers in the group of Chinese, Spanish and other tourist nations. As our group coalesced I felt a little like a duckling floated forward, encouraged along by the gentle beat of mother duck’s wings, zhushed into the longhouse for a welcome dance. The Wendake people are not nomadic and so their buildings are permanent structures. Longhouses, we were told could house up to 40 people under the management of a matriarch. They are a matrilocal people and the women would select the male leader of the community.

These are my photos from inside the longhouse of the welcome dance:

The elders would sleep on the floor, under the level of the worst of the smoke. Younger people would live on the mid layer, the top layer being for storage. The people ate 80% vegetables, with agriculture dominated by the “three sisters”: corn, beans and squash. Seeds were planted in small mounds above the ground so the people did not penetrate mother earth. Continue reading “Huron-Wendake Village”