Old World, New World

(Borrowing song titles for blog titles again, this time an INXS tune) 

  Monday (Oct. 5) was rainy in the morning, and winds were kicking up, making it feel much cooler. The plus was that the strong breezes dried everything up by the afternoon. There was still a chance of rain in the air, so a bike ride wasn’t going to be a wise choice, and the winds made it seem like it wouldn’t be much fun, anyway!

   We decided that another walk into Old City with a bus ride back was in order, this time avoiding any long staircases, since we had been getting plenty of exercise during this trip. Starting off down Grande Allée, paralleling the western edge of the Plains of Abraham, we eventually turned left on Cartier Avenue. This pretty, shaded street was lined with restaurants and shops, but the obvious feature was the crazy, large lampshades on the streetlights. The shades were imprinted with images of works from the city’s National Museum of Fine Arts.

Providing this map again for reference

   Unfortunately, a dark cloud rolled in and rain started to fall, but we were lucky to be in the right place with plenty of awnings to choose from/stand under for a few minutes until the precipitation stopped. The winds accompanied quickly-moving clouds, and in short time the skies were bright blue and sunny again.
   Turning right on Chemin Sainte-Foy, we walked a couple of blocks and then took a right where the street splits, onto Rue Saint-Jean to reach the gluten-free Hansel and Gretel Bakery. I snapped up a blueberry scone, and we walked on to find something for Sue.
   Moments later we saw a man on a bakfiets, with his two children strapped into the cargo box, making a turn up the STEEP Rue de Claire-Fontaine, and we hoped for his sake that the bike had pedal assist. By the ease at which he continued to climb, it was obvious he did!
   We were nearly back at the Place d’Youville when Sue was able to duck into Les Bruleries de St. Jean for a huge and, what I thought, was a fantastic-looking pain au chocolat. Other than pulling it apart, there was no graceful way to bite into the pastry, but Sue was really hungry, so she used the sloppy technique. I consider my wife an expert on this particular pastry, and through full cheeks, she gave her review, “Good, but not enough chocolat.”
   Veering right onto the Côte de la Fabrique, we passed to the right of the attractive St. Patrick Pub (I doubt they have gluten-free beer) and encountered another wedge-shaped intersection:

   We went to the left on the lesser-travelled Rue Garneau, with the intent to come back down the other side, but we ended up being sidetracked. This turned out to be more of a back alley, and I mentioned to Sue how some of the folks I spied in the windows had to be wondering why we came this way. “They don’t know us,” was her quick reply.
   The street ended at the façade of the University of Laval School of Architecture. Intrigued, we made a left to reach the front gate, which was open. Seeing no signs that we weren’t welcome, we wandered under an archway into a pretty courtyard which was part of the adjacent Catholic secondary school. A few children were there kicking a ball around, and pair of girls were setting a volleyball back and forth to each other.

   Somehow, we had not even noticed that Notre Dame Basilica was just to the right of the gate. Unfortunately, we had just missed the hours for touring the structure, so we moved on. Now on Rue de Buade (the torn-up street we climbed up to on our bikes the other day), we resisted going into the great-looking La Boutique de Noel, since we’ll be complaining about the early start of Christmas commercials in a couple weeks. We instead ventured into Les Promenades du Vieux Quebec, intrigued by the decorative yellow sign to the right of the marquis and the placard in the window, which both stated: Délégations Générales Wallonie-Bruxelles.

   Apparently, this was a historic indoor shopping arcade – there were a couple shops and some empty storefronts here, a gallery of local artists (one who used just painting knives, instead of brushes), a currency exchange and a café. The yellow signs indicated the agency that promotes the influence of the Belgian Francophone community across Canada, through the organization of cultural events, professional meetings and participation in trade shows/conferences.
   The Promenade provided us with a nice shortcut onto a small alley that led to a craft fair at the Cathedral of the Holy Trinity. If you haven’t figured it out, we’re not really shoppers, but we casually peeked into some of the stands, just to see what these folks were creating, and made our way to the front of the church. Completed in 1804, this was the first Anglican church built outside of the British Isles. Being architecture enthusiasts, we stepped inside to see an impressive vaulted ceiling ribbed in gold and an immense pipe organ:

   Outside the church gate, we veered right and checked out the Halloween display, featuring giant toads and creepy pumpkins with arms and legs, beside City Hall:

   It was a fairly quick walk along Rue Dauphine, since it was mostly residential, with little to see except Kent Gate at the fortified wall. Soon we were at the government complex, where we caught a bus ride “home”.

   Sue and I were up at a relaxed pace the next morning, as we only had some light exercise on the agenda in the early afternoon. I had packed my skates in anticipation of a visit to a unique ice surface.
   The patinarium is a circuit-style skating track at Mega Park, a unique mall venue with a roller coaster, Ferris wheel, carousel and other rides in the center courtyard. The whole scene had a cool steam-punk vibe, and the highlight for us was the excellent 12-foot-wide ice surface that weaved through the attractions. We both played ice hockey in our twenties, so we used to be pretty good on our skates, but the years go by quickly, and an occasional open skating session at the local rink doesn’t keep the legs as agile as they used to be.

   We became pretty comfortable as the motor memory returned, and we started doing crossovers in the turns. Cycling and skating go really well together, so our quad muscles were definitely up to the task, but our hip joints didn’t necessarily agree. The rink’s regulations kept the speeds down, and skating backwards wasn’t allowed, so we weren’t going to do anything stupid, but it wasn’t very crowded, so we did sprint it out a few times when the skate guards were out of sight. The best part was that neither us fell!

   Wednesday was our next travel day, backtracking on the eastern side of the St. Lawrence, where we eventually (and somewhat sadly) caught a view of Montreal in the distance. We had a very minor run-in with the agricultural officer at the border crossing because of a red pepper and some chicken sausage. The meat had tasted one step up from cat food, so we weren’t sorry to see that go when the items were confiscated!

   A few miles into New York, we stopped in the town of Champlain for some groceries, knowing there wouldn't be many shopping opportunities out on the island. We then drove a few miles east through Rouses Point, where I found another railroad station, before crossing the U.S. Route 2 bridge into Vermont, over a narrow neck of the lake.

   After a bit of research, I had to adjust my geography, as we were actually headed to South Hero Island - Grand Isle, where we were staying, is the name of a town on that island. Our accommodations were in a modern house add-on, purpose-built as an Airbnb rental.
   As we were unpacking, Sue looked out the bedroom window and said, “Hey, they have a rooster!” I glanced out and, after a few seconds, noticed it wasn’t moving.
   “Sue, that is a statue!” For some reason, the words ‘lawn ornament’ had eluded me.
   “It is not," she replied, "I saw the fence behind it, and I swear the rooster wasn’t there before!” I scanned to the right and saw about a half-dozen chicken figures scattered in the back yard (also not moving).
   “Sue, look again at that rooster; now look to the right…”
   “Oh,” and she just started to laugh. That evening, we went out to McKee’s Island Pub for dinner – I know, quite a step for us, but they had a good gluten-free menu (I had an excellent burger and fries). Along the way, I pointed to several lawn ornaments and told her sarcastically, “Look Sue, those people have a live flamingo (bear, deer, etc.) in their yard!” None of my comments were appreciated.

Autumn In Quebec

   Saturday morning (Oct. 3), the weather was absolutely beautiful with bright sunshine. I went into the bathroom, which had a strange golden glow – a locust tree, in its bright fall color, was reflecting the yellow sunlight through the window. With shaky weather and colder temperatures in the forecast, we decided to do rare back-to-back cycling days, though we both had some soreness in our muscles from the climbing yesterday.
   Looping over to the Plains of Abraham, we descended the steep, switchback multi-use trail on the Côte Gilmour down to Champlain Boulevard. We turned south along the St. Lawrence and enjoyed great views of the waterway for about three miles, when we reached the Cageaux Wharf.
   This former industrial pier has been repurposed to a natural area recreating the native coastal flora, and includes a point of access to the water, as well as an observation tower offering exceptional panoramic views. The site name pays tribute to the raftmen who left their mark on the province's history. If you really want to see a crazy activity, check out ice canoeing, a Quebec tradition!
   We then took on the steep climb to the trail that paralleled the Canadian National Railroad tracks, over to the Pont de Québec. Opened in 1919, this riveted steel truss structure carries Route 175 and the railroad (plus a narrow walk/bikeway) 150 feet above the river. Its supporting arms and central structure are the world’s longest cantilever span in the world, at just over 1800 feet. The project actually failed  twice during its construction, costing 88 lives and many injuries.

   After riding out to the center of the bridge, we backtracked to land, weaved up through a housing development to Chemin Saint-Louis and headed west for a few miles. We made a big curve around the Pointe-de-Sainte-Foy neighborhood on Boulevard du Versant, closely paralleling the railroad tracks as they looped back into the commercial areas west of the city.
   Although attempts were made to dress up the boulevard by lining it with trees, this area, crammed with highway interchanges and business parks, wasn’t particularly scenic. I enjoyed seeing a couple of trains rumbling by and tried to focus on the knobby Laurentian Mountains way off in the distance. Despite the somewhat dreary surroundings, we had pedaled on a nicely-paved and road-separated bike lane for about ten miles!
   We were now in the northern reaches of the Saint-Sacrement neighborhood, where we turned due north to reach Parc du Pont Scott and the lovely greenway along the St. Charles River. There are actually trails on both the north and south banks of the river, so we passed under several footbridges, or passerelles, of various design as we followed the meandering river. Since it was the weekend, we had plenty of company, and as usual, little notice from anyone passing, though it wasn’t happening often in the more-relaxed park atmosphere.
   A few miles later we were again pedaling under the Boulevard Jean-Lesage bridge, onto the Corridor du Littoral. In Old Quebec, we were hung up by some cruise ship traffic (auto and pedestrian), so we took the opportunity to cross the street and weave over to the Côte de la Montagne.
   

   I probably had it in a bit too big of a gear, but I was feeling really good earlier, when climbing up tothe Pont de Québec, plus I wanted to challenge myself. I told Sue, “I’ll wait for you at the top,” and charged into the hill. I was doing okay until I attempted to downshift, about halfway up, just before reaching the Prescott Gate (photo left). This is a spot I’ve seen countless times, with fans packing the walkway above to view the bike race.
   A man had dabbed his foot into the street before seeing me coming, not enough to get in my way but just enough to put me off stride and take away all my momentum. Now I really had to downshift or getting my foot down and coming to a safe stop on this incline was going to be a concern. I was also finessing my pedal stroke so the gears wouldn’t slip under so much pressure, but I made it without a major issue. I was breathing pretty hard, though!
   When we both reached the top, we found that Rue de Buade, the only street out of the Place d’Armes area without having to turn around and go back down the hill, was completely torn up by some public works project. All the other routes were one way, coming toward the plaza, and because it was a Saturday, the sidewalks were mobbed with tourists, and a lot of them were old and sluggish. Yeah, I know – at 59, neither Sue nor I are spring chickens, but there is no doubt that we are physically fit…and impatient.with slow pokes!
   Probably because the sidewalks of Rue de Buade were a less attractive option, pedestrians completely took over the barriered bike lane on Rue Saint-Louis in both directions! Having both of us walking our bikes in this lane certainly didn’t help the congested situation, so when we noticed the traffic light change in the distance, we waited for the car traffic to clear and prepared to jump down to the street and sprint for the next intersection to find an alternate route out of there.
   Just as Sue clicked into her pedal, a man stepped out into the street, right in front of her wheel, not even looking her direction. I couldn’t believe he didn’t apologize when she slammed on the brakes, and I heard him mutter to his group that she should have a horn. Wait, a HORN?!! I completely lost it, “She has a bell, but you stepped right out, without looking you f%$#ing moron!”

The day's route map (click to enlarge)

   It was going to be a slow Sunday morning, since we had plans for the afternoon, so I did a bit of writing with the Giro dell’Emelia race on the television. This event, held in Bologna, Italy, includes one of the most scenic finishing circuits of the pro cycling calendar, as riders take on the forested Colle della Guardia, which rises approximately 300 meters above the city to the Sanctuary of the Madonna of San Luca. The road up the climb follows the spectacular covered portico that features 666 arches, constructed between 1674 and 1793.

   When the race coverage ended, we took a short walk down the street to the Maxi (I hesitate to call it a supermarket) to buy some groceries. I decided to do a brief detour into the Ti-Cass Curling Club next door. I was disappointed that nothing was going on with either of the parallel ice sheets on which they play, most likely because a memorial service was going on upstairs.
   Later in the afternoon, we drove out to the northwest of the city to see the Quebec Remparts hockey game for which we had bought tickets the other day. Your favorite cheapskates (pun intended) found out about free parking at the nearby Walmart and a walk of about a half mile to Videotron Arena.

   I can’t imagine there are better venues in the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League! Videotron Arena is a modern, NHL-caliber stadium that seats 18,259, though the upper levels are not open for regular season junior games. Still, there were over 7000 people in attendance, which is comparable to the crowds of AHL teams like the Lehigh Valley Phantoms or Hersey Bears.
   Although the game wasn’t competitive at all, we didn’t really have a rooting interest, and it was nice to see the home crowd enjoy the 7-0 pasting the Remparts put on the Blainville-Boisbriand Armada. There was an amusing and totally unnecessary delay late in the game, when the frustrated Armada players started a scuffle and multiple players from each team were sent to the penalty box. It seemed one of the refs misidentified the number of a player, who wasn’t on the ice at the time of the skirmish, and they had to go to the instant replay official to see which of the Armada squad was actually involved.
   The Remparts’ 18-year-old forward, Nikita Ovcharov, scored three goals, and we had seen him gesture to a woman a few rows in front of him. The woman was nattily dressed, and was recording the goal celebrations, and a couple of the replays on the big screen, with her phone. Sue supposed the woman was his mother, and after the game inquired about it in French and offered congratulations for her son’s tour du chapeau (hat trick).
   I could see the woman smile and reply, “Oui, oui, oui!”, and I wondered, if they were in fact, native Russians and how much of what Sue said the woman could really understand. I found out later that night that Ovcharov, in this league of 16- to 20-year-olds had just been selected in last season’s import draft. I’m not sure what, if any, living arrangements are made for the families of young European players and how much time she has spent in North America, but Nikita’s mother may have had no idea what Sue was saying and was just nodded along politely!

Boulevard, Chemin, Avenue, Rue, Allée...

Overrated!

   Wednesday (Sept. 30) we were on our way to Quebec City, just under a three-hour drive from Montreal. It was amazing to see how in that short distance, the trees were showing more autumn color!
   Nearly to the city limits, we drove a short distance off the highway to see the Vieux-Chemin, which has the reputation to be one of the most beautiful streets in Canada. This short village lane once served as part of the 18th-century Chemin du Roy (King's Road). Honestly, I could think of a couple streets nearby in Chester County or in my hometown Bethlehem that made this neighborhood look very average.
   We were a bit early for check-in at our Airbnb near the border of the Sillery and Saint-Sacrament neighborhoods of Quebec, so we stopped at the Videotron Centre to pick up tickets for a Quebec Major Junior Hockey League (a BIG deal in Canada) matchup on Sunday, featuring the hometown Remparts and the Blainville-Boisbriand Armada. I can’t tell you a whole lot about the opponent, other than their hometown is an off-island suburb of Montreal, and the franchise has only been around for fifteen years.
   The Remparts (French for “ramparts”, referring to the citadel walls) franchise has been around since 1969, this being its second stint in Quebec City. The Remparts have supplied dozens of players to the NHL, most notably Hall of Famers Guy Lafleur and Michel Goulet, as well as current star Nikita Kucherov, who has won a Hart Trophy (league MVP) and two Stanley Cups with the Tampa Bay Lightning.
   During their most recent stint in Quebec, the Remparts were tenants in le Colisée, the former home of the Quebec Nordiques. Built in 1949, the barrel vault-designed building sadly has not hosted a live event since 2015 and is slated for demolition in 2027, when its current lease as a storage facility runs out.

I had to share this Nordiques 1990 photo I found of Hall of Famers
Guy Lafleur, Mats Sundin and my all-time favorite player, Joe Sakic.

   After Sue handled a French-spoken transaction, we headed to our generous accommodations, an upstairs portion of a home, with full kitchen, dining room, living room with big screen television, large bedroom with a queen size and single bed, and bathroom with a his and her vanity. There was even a balcony overlooking the backyard pool (it was too cool during our stay to even care whether we’d be allowed to swim)! Our stay in Quebec was going to be a little less-packed with activity, and I had fallen way behind in organizing material for my blog, so that evening I got to work while watching some of the baseball playoffs.

   Looking at the forecast Thursday morning, the weather looked questionable, so armed with an umbrella tucked in our pack, we decided to take a walk downtown, with a bus ride planned for the return trip. We cut across the Plains of Abraham, named after early settler Abraham Martin, the 255-acre park is on the site of the pivotal 1759 battle where British forces defeated the French, fundamentally shaping Canadian history.

We didn't visit every site marked on this map, but most of our stops are included.

   From the park we descended 398 steps on the Cap Blanc Stairs, built in the 19th century. We strolled down Rue Champlain, which is more residential, but while it lacked the overall charm of its brother, the Rue du Petit Champlain, there wasn’t a crowd or shop after shop of boutique fashions and overpriced souvenirs!

   The small street connects with Champlain Boulevard, and we were eventually forced to deal with the mobs of window shoppers on Petit-Champlain. We then turned onto the not-as-famous-but-just-as-quaint streets, Sous-le-Font and Notre-Dame, so we could reach the Côte de la Montagne. This climb, featured in the Grand Prix Cycliste de Québec, a UCI World Tour event, may only be about a quarter-mile long, but it is STEEP, and the pros do it each of their 20 laps around the 6.5-mile circuit. I had it in my mind to include it in a future ride (just once, though) during our stay.
   At the top, we turned left onto Fort Street and walked up to Dufferin Terrace for some great views, right in front of the Hotel Frontenac. The terrace access to the hotel was undergoing some renovations, so we walked around to the street entrance, just to sample the opulence from the lobby.

   We walked up the Rue Saint-Louis, passing many shops and restaurants on our way. At the Porte de Saint-Louis (photo below), we climbed up to the fortified wall and strolled along the top for a few blocks. We descended at St. John’s Gate and made our way to the Place d’Youville and bought tickets at the transit center there for our eventual bus ride back to the Airbnb.

 
   A couple blocks away was Tutto Gelato, our planned last stop for the day. Initially I was a little confused what language I should use, but I enjoyed my Italian order of caramello al fior de sale, as did Sue with her combination of frutti di bosco y mango!

   Friday really looked like a washout, as it was still raining when we sat down to eat breakfast. However, the sun came out and dried things up well enough that we headed out for a ride late in the afternoon. Our route (see map on left - click to enlarge) wasn’t too unlike the walking tour we took the day before, except that we made our way down to Champlain Boulevard by heading southwest and coasted down to the riverside via the Chemin Saint Louis and the Côte de Sillery.
   As we turned downriver towards the city on the wonderful bike path, we both noted having soreness in our calves, and we could only assume it was from the long decent down the Cap Blanc Stairs the day before. Figuring as our muscles warmed, things should loosen up, we pedaled into the Old Port area.
   We were now riding on the Corridor du Littoral, as noted on several signs we spotted along the bikeway. Not being sure what it meant, Sue made a joke, knowing my pet peeve of people overusing/misusing the word “literally”, that you were only allowed to use metaphors and symbolism while speaking on the corridor. She later found out the word littoral means “coastal” or “shoreline”.
   We looped up to the crossing of the St. Charles River on the Boulevard Jean-Lesage bridge and weaved through an industrial zone that included a couple railroad crossings. Soon we were into a nicer public park area, but we had to be very cautious with the wet leaves that covered the curvy path that undulated through the area. The bikeway soon paralleled the beach on Beauport Bay, though our views were obstructed by Autoroute 440, which separated our route from the water.
   There were also some low spots along the right-of-way that didn’t drain particularly well, and we coasted slowly across some large puddles so that we wouldn’t soak our shoes. There were several spur trails to the beach, as well as business or residential spots that intersected the bikeway, but it was marked fairly well, and really, as long as we continued along the highway, it was hard to be misdirected.
   About five miles outside of the park, we crossed the highway, very near the Orleans Island Bridge over the St. Lawrence, and entered Montmorency Falls Park. You wouldn’t be surprised to hear that we weren’t interested in paying the fee to view the falls from the nearer bridge that the trail shared with the passenger rail line. We instead stayed on the Corridor du Littoral and snapped a photo of the falls from bike lane on the highway bridge:

   Sue looked at the wooden stairway with hundreds of steps leading to the foot of the falls and said, “No thanks!” I saw the spindly bridge crossing over the brink of the falls and muttered exactly the same sentiment.
   We retraced our route back to the St. Charles, but instead turned up the river on a beautiful parkside trail and looped up onto Pont Dorchester and made our way back via on-street bike lanes. We were a bit redirected by some construction, but we eventually intersected some of the same streets on which we first entered Quebec, so we were familiar with the route back to our apartment.
   I know Sue enjoyed driving up the hill towards the Plains of Abraham much more than cycling up it, but she grinded her way along, at a comfortable pace. I was reminded of one of the cycling commentators who covers many of the races we watch. He loves to say, “Climbs are only as difficult as you make them - the faster you ride, the worse they are.”

 

Take Me to the River

   We felt lucky that the weather panned out for the World Championship race, because the day after, the radar showed that we were definitely going to get some rain. Of course, we didn’t want to be just sitting round the apartment all day, so Sue came up with a plan to do some exploring using a variety of modes comprising Montreal’s public transportation system (see map on left; click to enlarge).
   Sue is happiest on or near the water, and she found out that the Navark company provides shuttles, cruises and events in 14 cities all along the St. Lawrence River. We hopped on the Metro (orange line) once again, but this time we connected to the green line, which headed northeast from Montreal. We started our boat excursion from the municipality of Pointe-aux-Trembles and motored south on the St. Lawrence (scroll down to see the blue line marked on the map of our bike route that I’ve included at the bottom of this blog entry).
   Out on the river, we came to a better understanding geography of the waterway in relationship to the city, and saw some of the modern port area, with a large ship at the refinery area and a container ship being loaded. I learned later that the Tailhandier Mudflats to the east were once a chain of islands, but hundreds of years of silt deposited by the river have since connected them.
   We cruised under the Route 25 bridge and around the southern end of Charron Island, which on summer days would host families at the Longueuil Municipal Beach. Also on the island is a golf course and the Boucherville Islands National Park. We passed a birdwatching station on the northern tip of the island and were soon docking at Bourcherville.

   This boat service was free, to provide traffic relief from the tunnel construction, so Sue and I were just doing a quick turnaround. We felt really stupid that we nearly missed the reboarding of the boat when we were caught up reading signs about the city’s history. Well, I was attempting to translate the French, and Sue was patiently providing an assessment of my accuracy (or inaccuracy).
   A welcome break from the misty rain allowed us to take a walk after the boat ride, in combination with a short bus ride, to the green line Metro station end point at Honoré-Beaugrand. Our next stop was at McGill University for a transfer to the city’s new REM line. No, Mike Stipe, Peter Buck, etc. were not operating the light rail cars, nor was their music featured on the intercom; it stands for Réseau Express Métropolitain (Metro Express Network). The automated, super-smooth and quiet railway connects the airport and communities to the city and the suburbs across the St. Lawrence River to the southeast.

   Despite the outdated maps on the Metro that showed the line “under construction”, we had caught a glimpse of the trains going over the Champlain Bridge during television coverage of the World Championship races, and Sue investigated it further. While the airport station was yet to be completed, there were currently 23 stations online along its approximately 39 miles of track. We were already impressed by the Metro overall, but this addition to Montreal’s transit system was absolutely wonderful!
   I really enjoyed how the tracks made a long gentle arc high over the freight and passenger railyards to the east of the city to connect with Nun’s Island and the Champlain Bridge. All week we had enjoyed decent weather and wonderfully clear views, but now we could barely make out the outlines of buildings and bridges just a mile or two away because of the low-lying clouds that had now settled over the area.

   We doubled back to the Édouard-Montpetit Station, which is on the University of Montreal’s campus, near the athletics complex (again, view our route, this time in green, included on the bicycle route map). A short bus ride took us close to the Roll’V restaurant, where we could grab some repeat take-out of the bánh mì and spring rolls! On the way, I was able to check out a couple bike shops nearby and gasped to see one of Tadei Pogacar’s Colnago team bikes with a price tag of over $21,000 – why not buy two?

   Beginning our final full day in Montreal, we hopped on our much-less-expensive bikes and headed over to the Cartier Station to board the Metro for the final time. We were again starting at UQAM and duplicating the convenient route into the Old Port, down to the Lachine Canal. However, this time we continued straight after crossing the Atwater Footbridge, rode under the Autoroute 15 and into the Verdun borough.
   I was feeling a little uptight about the directions I had written out, since we were venturing into sections of the city that weren’t a logical grid. I also had it in the back of my head that Sue was totally trusting me, but the pre-ride check using Googlemaps really helped with visual cues and a pseudo-familiarity with the area.
   Making the connection with the approaches to the Autoroute bridge crossing was simple enough, and negotiating Nun’s Island was fairly straightforward, as there was really only one way off – the Champlain Bridge Causeway. Built parallel to and shortly after the construction of the old Champlain Bridge in 1962 (since dismantled and replaced by the current span in 2019), the causeway was erected to control ice formation and movement in the La Prairie Basin, which facilitates navigation to the Port of Montreal. The bikeway was built atop the causeway in the 1990s.
   The bikeway connects with the Riverfront Promenade on the 15-mile-long dike of the South Shore Canal. The canal is the major shipping lane of the St. Lawrence Seaway. The Promenade’s asphalt surface is at least two cars wide down to the St. Catherine Lock, which was about a seven-mile distance. We turned around at the lock and rode all the way back under the new Champlain Bridge.

Sue snapped this photo of me at our turnaround...

...and this cool shot of the Champlain Bridge supports.

   Past the St. Lambert lock (the first lock traversed by westbound ships on the Seaway), we pedaled onto the Île Notre-Dame. The motorhead in me was excited to take a lap on the Circuit Gilles-Villeneuve, a 2.5-mile racetrack used for events like the Formula One Canadian Grand Prix. It was wonderful that the site was open for bicycle use, but we weren’t too happy that, despite the generous width of the track, a couple more asshats needed to buzz right off our hips without any warning!

   We began to think they didn’t want cyclists to leave the island, as it was a bit difficult to find the spiral ramp up to the bridge on the Avenue Pierre-Dupuy, but that just might have been because some of the barriers were still in place from the World Championships, since part of the time trial route was on the race course. The bridge touched briefly on St. Helen’s Island, where we could see the Biosphere Museum, designed by Buckminster Fuller, in the distance, before descending into Cité du Havre.

   This neighborhood within the Montreal borough of Ville-Marie, is located on a narrow man-made Mackay Pier, which was largely built to protect the Old Port from the currents of the St. Lawrence, ice and floods. The area has vey modern residential buildings, including the standout Habitat 67, a stack of prefabricated concrete cubes, that was built for the Expo 67 (1967 World’s Fair).

   Not wanting to backtrack through Old Montreal, we instead veered left on Rue Peel and weaved our way over to the Boulevard de Maisonneuve. Along the way, we passed Victoria Square and climbed the short but nasty Côte du Beaver Hall, named for the late-18th century mansion, built by fur trader Joseph Frobisher, once stood at the top. During the 1920s, a collective of prominent Canadian artists established their studio at number 305 on the street. Returning to the UQAM Metro stop and getting the "all good" sign from Sue, we roughly retraced our route from the other day back to Laval.

   We washed up, rested a bit then grabbed some dinner. After organizing stuff a bit for our departure the next morning, we hopped in the car and drove out to an ice cream shop on the other side of Laval. I enjoyed watching some French language coverage of the Canadiens' first game of the season while eating my cup of vanilla soft-serve (Sue had some mint chocolate chip).

What A Wonderful Worlds

   Saturday morning (note that this was September 26th) we were off to the Metro, so that we could reach the Jean Talons Market. We were specifically looking for Crêperie du Marché, where they served gluten-free crepes. Their batter was made with buckwheat, which is botanically closer to rhubarb and sorrel than grass-based grains like wheat. I had a generous portion topped by apples, pears and whipped cream!

   From there we headed for a stroll in Old Montreal, and although we enjoyed the European feel with the architecture and cobbled side roads, tight spaces with crowds negotiating souvenir shops and overpriced restaurants have never been our scene. A couple sites we found interesting were the Bonsecours Market (photo right), with a massive, neoclassical design based on Dublin’s Customs House, and the Ancien hopital, where we read about the work of Marie-Marguerite d'Youville and the Grey Nuns.
   We wandered over to the Old Port area, which has been developed into a family entertainment venue. It was a great spot to sit on a bench for a little while, have a snack and people watch. At the end of one of the piers was a talk construction crane used for bungee jumping and we watched a guy dive about 50 feet towards the water before springing back up (no thank you!). We also spied a curious scene, particularly because it was rather cool and windy this day, involving a pleasure craft pulling a queen size air mattress through the water with a passenger laying on it, wrapped in a blanket.

   A Canadian National freight train rumbled through on the single track that wove through this area, reminding everyone that there is still some industry along the dockside, as well as a decent sized railyard just downstream. I’ve seen so many trains in my life, it was a ho-hum event, but I get a kick out of seeing the children fired up by the rumbling scene.
   A few weeks ago, I had mentioned our plans to attend a mass at Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal, but not because we’re religious. Besides the fact it was going to be a unique (to us) French-spoken service, it would have otherwise cost $12 each for the tour!
   Renovation was being done to the exterior, so scaffolding obscured a large portion of the structure. The interior was spectacular, especially because traditional gothic churches have grayish walls. Here the surfaces were green, and the columns were dark red and gold.

 
   Having been raised Catholic, I was very familiar with the mass, even if I didn’t understand very much of what was being said. We had not intended to stay the full hour-ish duration, and I wasn’t sure if Sue was thinking of the comparatively short Episcopal service to which she was familiar, or if she was just lost in the spectacle. I gently nudged her and whispered, “Are we leaving?”, to which she replied, “It’s almost over.” I shook my head back at her, ”No it’s not!” We left before the collection baskets came out – are you really surprised?
   Early evening had sent in, and the crowds had long dispersed from the race course area when we reached Jeanne Mance Park. I was looking forward to having dinner nearby at Roll’V, a Vietnamese restaurant chain. I had a pork bánh mì sandwich (called a thịt) on one of the best gluten-free rolls I’ve ever had, as well as a couple of shrimp spring rolls, which are wrapped in rice paper.
   When we arrived back in Laval, I watched highlights of the pro women’s race. One may wonder why we didn’t also attend that event - it’s not that I’m not interested in women’s cycling, it’s just that I watch so much men’s cycling already, I try to limit the amount of time I sit in front of the computer watching European streams. Seeing how packed the main climb was with fans cheering on the women, I rethought the time we needed to arrive in the morning. I figured that being there an hour or so before the men were due to reach the city circuit would be our best bet.

   The next day, we claimed a spot a few hundred meters up the Voie Camillien-Houde climb on Mount Royal. We were next to a really nice bunch of Quebecois. They even turned their phones our direction a couple of times so that we could see the live coverage of what was happening on other parts of the race course. One of the women told us she was from Shawinigan, and she was a bit stunned when the Font of Useless Information (me) asked, “Your junior team is les Cataractes?” (in the past, I religiously read The Hockey News front to back).
   She also asked if there was anyone we were rooting for, and Sue explained, “We’re from Philadelphia, so we root against people – as long as Tom Pidcock or Quinn Simmons don’t win, we’re fine!” Several folks there were simply casual fans of cycling, and they turned to us occasionally to help identify riders or clarify facts. For their sake, I tried to keep a lid on my enthusiasm, and they remained near us, so perhaps that was a good sign that I was succeeding…and my wife knows her shit, so it took some of the responsibility away from me! Note: if you didn’t know why we root against Pidcock, read THIS blog entry; in 2020 Simmons was suspended by his (then) Trek-Segafredo team, following controversial social media posts supporting Donald Trump, and we can’t tolerate people like him at all.
   We also met an enthusiastic group of Canadians, who had stopped to peer from behind us as the peloton went by on one of the early laps. They from towns in Ontario and must have heard us speaking in English, so they asked where we were from. I don’t recall exactly how the conversation later unfolded, but one of the men mentioned something about vintage bicycles, and I explained that I build them in my home shop. He took all of my contact information after revealing that he had a cousin from our area who was into cycling.
   The race was unfolding wonderfully for the American team, who managed to get three riders into the break, and the favorites, as could have been predicted, were caught looking at each other to react when, perhaps one of lesser-stars, Arizonan Brendan McNulty, jumped off the front with 32 kilometers to go. Sue and I moved down towards the Fan Zone set up along the finish straight on Avenue du Parc to watch the last couple of laps on one of the big video screens. We were hoping McNulty could hang on, and with two of his two teammates behind covering every move, the American came away with the biggest win of his career.

McNulty nears the finish line, clutching his head in disbelief

   There were now thousands of people trying to make their way out of the area, which required the traversal of a couple stair/bridges that had been erected over the course. These areas quickly became complete bottlenecks, so we saw no need to rush out of there.
   It was somewhat humorous to see pro cyclists just riding their bicycles slowly out of the course along the finish line, which now had barriers removed to aid access to the podium celebration. Fans were politely clapping as young French star Paul Seixas weaved through, since he gave a valiant effort in the decisive final group, before cramping badly on the final lap.
   Tom Pidcock pedaled by, and some British fan yelled lamely, “Good try, Tom.” Sue was glad I held back from saying, “Stick with mountain biking, you overrated also-ran!”
   Current stars Remco Evenepoel, Primož Roglič, Ben Healy, João Almeida and Guilio Ciccone, who for years I have mistakenly called “Enrico”. I told Sue I had been mixing up the name of the Italian cyclist with that of a journeyman NHL enforcer, Enrico Ciccone, who is now a politician currently representing the Marquette district of Montreal. Sue and I saw signs promoting him for the upcoming election, which certainly has not helped me to stop confusing the names of the two VERY different athletes!
   I also saw Thibault Nys again, but this time in street clothes, as well as recently-retired Elia Viviani. Despite the fact that he has been a member of the hated Sky/Ineos team, the gifted road sprinter was a personal favorite, because he is Italian and also excelled on the track. Elia won gold in the velodrome during the Omnium event at the 2016 Rio Olympics, and after winning his third World Championship in my favorite track event, the eliminator, at last year’s event in Santiago, Chile, he officially brought a close to his career.
   I enjoyed my Vietnamese thit so much the other night, and since the restaurant was so close to the finish line, we strolled over to Roll’V again. We were stunned, and terribly disappointed to find out that they had run out of rolls for the sandwiches (I suppose a hungry race crowd cleared them out), so we decided to come back the next night.

NIne Miles On the Lachine Canal

   Our second day in Montreal featured an afternoon tour of McGill University’s Redpath Museum. I initially thought it was a logical name because red was an official school color, but the museum is actually named after Peter Redpath, a local sugar magnate, who donated the money for the building’s construction.
   The Redpath opened in 1882 as the first purpose-built museum in Canada, and it houses excellent exhibitions of geology (gorgeous mineral and crystal samples), natural history (a wonderful shell collection, fossils and taxidermy) and world cultures (various artifacts, coins and musical instruments). Acquired objects are use daily in various university courses and research projects, and items are loaned to other institutions to contribute to research.

   We continued our walk up through the attractive hillside campus to meet Mount Royal’s Grand Staircase. 339 steps later, we arrived at the broad terrace overlooking the city skyline.

   Being a little warm after the climb, we ducked out of the sun, into the chalet. Sue was intrigued by the 32 carved squirrels up in the building’s rafters (photo below), and I relaxed in an Adirondack chair, cooling off in the breeze wafting through the open doors.

   Instead of descending down the Grand Staircase, we took the winding Chemin Olmsted, a wide gravel carriage road, named after the park’s designer. Frederick Olmsted was a prolific 19th Century landscape architect, best known for his work on Central Park in NYC.
   At the bottom of the road, we skirted around the Fan Village set up for the World Championships and caught a bit of the junior men’s race. Along the way, we encountered Isaac del Toro, the 22-year-old who nearly won last year’s Giro d’Italia and finished 3rd in this year’s Tour de France, out for a training ride.
   We had been on our feet most of the day and still had a half-mile walk to the Metro station. The decision to take the short bus ride from the Cartier Station back to our Port-Viau neighborhood was made quickly!

   There was a time window between the morning and evening rush when bikes were allowed on the Metro, so the next day, we made sure to arrive at Cartier Station at precisely 9:30 AM, so that we would have plenty of time to return by 3:30 PM. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t think we could cover the roughly 25-mile route within those hours, it was just that we weren’t sure there would be any stops (good or bad) during our ride that might stretch out the trip.
   Starting from the UQAM (Univ. of Quebec at Montreal) Metro Station we headed east on the Rue Berri, out to the port area of Old Montreal. There had been a little bit of construction and a fair going on in the area, so it wasn’t as easy as it normally would have been using the bike lanes.

   We passed a cruise ship docked at the Grand Quay, as well as the old silo #5 (photo above) near the #1 Lock of the Lachine Canal. I’ll leave you to investigate the long history of the canal, if you are interested, but the current structure was completed in 1824. Commercial shipping in the waterway ended in 1970, but it was reopened to pleasure craft in 2002
   We rode the excellent bike lane along the north side of the canal for a couple of miles, passing the St. Gabriel Lock then crossing over the Atwater Footbridge (despite the name, riding over it is okay when clear of pedestrians). Another mile down, we passed the lock in the Côte-Saint-Paul neighborhood, and just for the heck of it, crossed the Passerelle, an old truss bridge crossing, now closed to auto traffic.
   The canal zigzag ended when we traversed the bridge at Dollard Avenue, which had a separate bike lane and fun banked spiral ramp down to the bike path. Our final destination was the Point of René Levesque Park, built out on a long spit of land that protects the entry basin at the Lachine Lock (they were really creative with that name), almost nine miles from the other end of the canal. We snapped a photo before looping back through the park - the Lachine Front Range Lighthouse can be seen way in the background.

   After passing through a fun tunnel that dipped under the train tracks, we struggled up a nasty climb on Rue des Erables (makes “Maple Street” sound boring) called Devil’s Hill. We entered the neighborhood of Montréal-Ouest, and from here we would be riding the Boulevard de Maisonneuve, named after the founder of the city, Paul de Chomedey de Maisonneuve, all the way back to our starting point.
   The bike lane on the boulevard traversed a variety of scenery along the way, as it started with a mix of commercial and residential buildings along the St. Jerome Line commuter train tracks. After a couple mile, we crossed over Autoroute 15, and the tracks split off to the left. We were riding through a medical center, then the street became a lovely tree-shaded neighborhood, leading into Westmount Park. Here the route was just a paved bike path, gently weaving through tennis courts and soccer fields.
   The shady boulevard continued on the other side of the park, but within a mile or so, we were into the heart of the city, passing the old Montreal Forum building (photo below). You would hardly recognize the glorious home of les Canadiens, where fans witnessed 22 of the team’s 24 Stanley Cup seasons, until they moved to the Bell Centre in 1997. The Forum building is now an entertainment center housing a cinema, restaurants, a bowling alley and pool.

   The boulevard was now a two-lane, one-way route, and the bike lane was completely separated from autos by a curbed barrier. We were now passing through an area of hi- and low-rise apartments, mixing in the occasional street-level restaurants and shops. Soon we were in Ville-Marie borough, the high-rise business center of the city, and passed along the edge of McGill University.
   We were soon descending from the plateau, and in about a half mile later we doing a dogleg around an open-air concert/theater venue near the Place des Arts. It was just a couple of blocks to the Metro station where we started, on Rue Berri.
   I had already mapped out in my mind (it was pretty direct) the return route to Port-Viau, if I wanted to do some more miles on my own, but Sue informed me that she’d like to continue. The Metro line ran parallel to the streets on which we would be pedaling, so I assured her that it would be easy to cut out, if she changed her mind at any point.
   I don’t know if it is the cycling culture, with so many people riding, that causes warnings to be a hassle, if it is the uncertainty over what language (and with the city's international flavor, I’m not solely referring to French-English) someone might be speaking/receiving with courtesy call-outs of “on your left”, or if the Quebecois are just plain rude, but we became aware that shoulder to shoulder passing was the norm, without any words of alert. It wasn’t an issue on some of the wider offroad bike paths or in streets with sharrows allowing the full lane width, but on the narrow city bike lanes, someone closely passing, particularly when buzzing by with an e-bike, can be quite a startling experience. By the way, I don’t think there is any e-bike regulation in Canada – I swear some of them were doing 30 mph or more. There were a couple times during our trip when it was VERY dangerous!
 

   About half way back to Laval, we veered south a couple blocks near the Little Italy neighborhood to find the Boulangerie le Marquis, a gluten-free bakery. The woman manning the shop spoke no English, but I tried my best to make my éclair vanille and tarte aux abricots clear enough. Pointing through the glass display case was my backup strategy!
   There was a bench area off to the side alley where I could unwrap my small box of goodies, and Sue waited patiently (mind you, she had her fill of Montreal-style bagels during our stay) while I savored every bite! A young woman, also with a Bianchi bicycle - though hers was a white, vintage steel version – pulled into the alley and asked if we would watch her bike while she ducked into the bakery. “Of course,” we answered, and when she returned with her own package of treats, we compared our “brother bikes”. When she said, “Oooh, so modern,” I replied that I preferred her style!
   I was a bit surprised that, even though we were nearing the 30-mile mark, Sue said she’d like to ride a little more, when we reached the bridge crossing the Prairies River back to Laval. She approved of the idea that we do a short loop retracing some of the nice bike paths on the southern end of the route I had done the other day. There was even a cool crossing back to Port-Viau on a bridge shared with the railroad.

Our cycling route (click to enlarge)

   With all the walking and riding we had been doing the past few days, we were always feeling hungry. Despite some snacks during the day and a solid dinner later on, we were craving some kind of treat. We put our three-day passes to more use by hopping on the bus and heading back to the Metro at Cartier. Our final destination wasn’t too far from the bakery I had visited earlier in the day, except the goal was homemade ice cream.
   Monsieur Crème Glacée ended up being a quirky location that, despite rave reviews, looked more like a phone/electronics store than a joint selling tasty, frozen desserts! However, the reviews were correct – the three-scoop combination of black cherry, strawberry and vanilla that I had was excellent. When we returned to our apartment, I did a search to see exactly where we were, and THIS little music clip popped up in the results. Sue and I had the tune stuck in our heads for the rest of the evening!

Another Brush with Cycling Fame (and I didn't blow it this time)

   During our first full day in Montreal, I set off in the morning on (what was intended to be) a 22-mile loop southwest from our apartment in Laval, along the Prairies River. Because the bike paths seemed easily connectable, my plan was simply to count the bridges as I pedaled along. There were seven involved, so I would pass two, cross over to the other side via the span of the Boulevard Laurentien onto the Island of Montreal (quiet honestly, I didn’t know it was an island until this trip). I would then head northeast, passing five bridges and cross on the last of the seven bridges, this one being along Route 25. Finally, I’d turn southwest and head back to Laval.
   I was having a blast navigating the network of trails and small roads with “sharrows” painted on them. Most of the green-painted paths on the larger roads were separated by barriers or at least rows of reflective posts. Soon after crossing onto Île de Montréal, I came upon two cyclists wearing the distinctive jerseys of the Belgian national team, stopped at the side of the path, fiddling with their bike displays. Now, riding anywhere else, I may have immediately thought they might be posers, but the current location/situation, plus their expensive team-issue Trek and Cervélo bikes, convinced me they were the real thing.

   As I drew nearer, I recognized Thibault Nys (photo above), the 23-year-old member of the Lidl-Trek team, whose father Sven was a cyclocross legend. I am a regular viewer of ‘cross events during the autumn and winter, and Thibault has won a bunch of World Cup races, as well as last year’s European Championship. He was ‘cross World Champion in both the junior and under-23 classes, but his road career has been spotty, with highlights being a couple of stage wins at the Tours of Switzerland and Romandie.
   The other rider turned out to be Matisse van Kerckhove, a 20-year-old on the Visma-Lease a Bike development team, who was competing on the Worlds under-23 squad. Unfortunately, his brother Seff was hit by a car just a couple days previously while out for a training spin and was forced to miss the junior Worlds time trial event.
   Back in 2015, while attending the World Championships, I had a chance to talk to Vincenzo Nibali. In my blog entry, I mentioned how the Italian legend, fresh off a victory at the Tour de France, had come to a stop at the barrier right in front of me. Despite the fact that I know a bit of the language, I was completely starstruck and froze - I came up with absolutely nothing to say!
   Well, I wasn’t going to repeat that mistake, and since I was aware that many Belgians know a bit of French, I waved and said, “Bonne chance!” They looked up with smiles and replied, “Thank you!” Quite pleased with myself, I was brought a bit back to earth by how quickly they caught and passed me a minute or two later. Yeah, I might have been riding my heavier “all-road” bike with wider, knobbier tires, and maybe on one of my road bikes I could have hanged on a bit, but the ease at which they were flying along at 25 mph or so was quite intimidating!
   I was becoming quite familiar with the new words I was seeing on the road signs that I passed during my ride: arête (the red hexagon sign shape was a simple clue), trottier (sidewalk or path), and rue barrée (road closed). I was pleased to be able to translate the sign reading, “cyclable en quatre saisons” and realize that the bike lane was maintained for year-round use.
   I don’t if I had lost track of the bridge count, or if I had just lost myself in thought, as I certainly didn’t have to worry about the threat of cars very much, but I somehow missed the connection to the Route 25 bridge. In my defense, at least one of the other spans didn’t have any connection to the local roads. When I finally reached what I thought was the correct bridge and found out it was actually Route 40 (with no bike path), I realized I had gone WAY too far. I was nearly at the far northern tip of the island!
   Intersecting Rue Sherbrooke, which I recognized from our drive into Laval, I looped back on that until it crossed another familiar road name. I then took the first major intersection back over to the riverside trail. I shook my head in frustration when I reached Route 25 then crossed the bridge over to the bike lane heading southwest along Boulevard Levesque. There were some on-road bike lanes along the way back to Laval, but other than one nasty little uphill, the return from there was rather uneventful.
   When I finally made it back to the apartment, I found that Sue was a bit worried that I had been gone so long. I am not used to cell phone use, and I should have remembered that I had an emergency flip phone in my pocket. I really should have let her know about my delay. She was also understandably angry that my 42-mile ride messed up the plans she had laid out for the day!

My route for the day - our apartment is indicated by the red circle under "Laval"
(click to enlarge)

   I quickly changed and washed up, so that Sue and I could be on our way to the nearby Cartier Metro Station. As the trip continued, we became more and more impressed by the Montreal transit system, but the speed and smoothness of these trains, which ride on tires instead of the usual metal-wheeled railroad trucks. The cars are clean and modern, and allow free movement between sections, as they have open connections with a flexible vestibule separating individual cars. There are clear displays of train progress between stations, a clear voice announcement of station names and boards showing which station the train is approaching. Fantastique!

   We first stopped by the Canadian Center for Architecture’s Sculpture Garden, which I thought sounding really intriguing, but honestly, turned out really lame. It wasn’t because the displays themselves weren’t interesting, it was that the site was obviously neglected. There weren’t any plaques to detail the works or give credit to their designers, and the one sign on the Boulevard Rene Levesque that described the site was thoroughly scorched by the sun and completely unreadable!

 

   Onto Poutineville! Some people scoffed that we were going to one of the chain restaurants, but they were one of the few that mentioned a gluten-free, dedicated fryer. Well, at least that was what they advertised, and the Rue Bishop location was attractive enough, just blocks from the Fine Arts Museum, our next stop. We were so disappointed when the waiter informed us that their location couldn’t guarantee cross-contamination with the fryer.

   Seeing the look on our faces, he said to wait a second so that he could check with his chef. He returned to explain that one of the fryers had been cleaned/empty, and the chef would heat that one up for me. Hooray – I had the “Poutineville Special” with fries, cheese curds, braised beef, mozzarella and red wine sauce and Sue had the “Classic”, which had fries, curds and a savory brown gravy. It definitely wasn’t a heart healthy menu, but we were very hungry and went away happy!

 

   Sue had read that the Museum had Wednesday evening sessions at half price, and ALWAYS being ones for a bargain, we sauntered over to the entrance (top photo on right) on Rue Sherbrooke - yes, the same street on which I had ridden earlier that afternoon. The modern atrium (photo top right) fooled me a bit, as I wondered how much art could fit into such a small building, but I soon realized by looking at the map that most of the art was housed in the surrounding structures of mixed styles of architecture, such as the one next door (to the right in the top photo) and another across the street (photo right bottom), which was connected by an underground passage, also full of exhibitions along the way.
   The typical paintings by Dutch, Flemish and Italian masters were there, as were more modern work by Picasso, Dali and Miró. We were a little surprised to see a mobile sculpture by Philadelphia hero, Alexander Calder. There was a section displaying local Quebecois artists, and another contained a permanent exhibition dedicated to Inuit art. A very interesting wing of the museum featured design innovation in furniture, appliances and electronics. My favorite pieces were a large cutaway model of the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore, better known as the Florence Cathedral or Il Duomo and Dale Chihuly’s The Sun, a ball of blown glass and steel that was 14.5 feet in diameter:

   We grabbed a bus and rode along Rue Sherbrook (I think I ended up covering that whole 20-mile street end to end!) back to its namesake Metro station. The Cartier stop was only a half mile from our apartment, but with all the walking we would do during our stay in Montreal, we learned to value the 3-day pass and the short bus ride we could take right back to our street with no added cost!