Montreal colour

I am sat in a rocking chair by the window listening to reels and jigs played on a fiddle wafting from across the street, the music dancing through the leaves of the trees and landing softly on the windowsill beside me.

It has been a warm day, okay, rephrase that .. very hot .. my head hurt from forgetting to drink enough and not been covered up. It is still warm at 7pm-ish, warmer than it ever gets in Iceland. I have wandered, in and out of streets, shops, cafes, watched salsa dancers dancing in the street and sat in the park under the shade of a big maple where the ground was cool and the grass fresh-smelling.


It has been a day of green tea. I started the day by ruining my first cup by automatically, sleepily putting milk in first.. then the second cup was better and accompanied by interesting conversation from E my host about immigration and multiculturalism. She is a port in a storm or in a lost at sea feeling anyway for Brazilians visiting or moving to Montreal which I think is such an excellent purpose for a guesthouse. A home from home really, and a lovely one at that. I'm not sure how intelligent it is possible to be at breakfast for me .. but I was awake from 5am thinking I had slept in (slept out) in Iceland! Cups two, three, four, five, six and probably also seven were served with delicate tea service and beautiful wooden implements, a clay teapot and the tiniest little cups.. hence the number. I am waiting to meeting a Montrealler from Montreal .. so far everyone is at least one generation or less away from being an immigrant.. it is fascinating. An Iranian-Canadian geography masters graduate drove the taxi from the airport to my guesthouse, the lady who runs Chez Brasil where I am staying is a psychologist from Brazil (obviously) and the Taiwanese tea fan who treated me to tea and Taiwanese shortbread (really) was a Scottish Canadian.

I am relaxing now listening to Irish fiddle music, snacking on cherries and black olive bread and feeling very comfortable and happy. Maybe after two years of being different it is nice to be somewhere where everyone is so different. I do believe it is easy to fall in love with Montreal. Still, I know at night I will lie in bed, sniff the city air, and hear the buzz of night here and remember my Icelandic home with a gentle, fond thought.