Well the ordeal at work is finally over. I’ve been served my penance and need to move on. With most of our work caught up at the district, I exercised a vacation day on Friday  for a much needed three-day weekend.  Janet has been off for the summer and has enjoyed plenty of time at the pool here at the clubhouse, and some beach time while I’ve processed Chromebooks and updated the website.

I woke early on Friday, even though I don’t have to. I’ve channeled my father’s schedule of early rising and early bed times. While Janet slept in, I began to explore Expedia to see what might be accessible to a New England tourist who has a three day weekend and no plans. It turns out that Montreal is only a four-five hour drive from our home. Coming from the mid-west, that’s a Sunday drive. I found a reasonable hotel outside the city, and a guided bus tour that would show us the sites. The only thing left was to convince Janet. Surprisingly enough, she thought it would be an awesome plan and was excited as I was to use our passports for this weekend getaway.

I like the drive through Vermont to Burlington. We took a short detour in Montpelier to see the capitol building, which is just about as small as New Hampshire’s. We arrived at the border patrol who greeted us with “bonjour.” We informed her that we were touristing and would be coming back on Sunday.  Quebec is a bi-lingual province, but most of the signs are only French. It was fun trying to figure out the English translations, as we speak very little French. Our GPS also quit working as we crossed the border so we decided to pay the extra roaming fees for the data plans on our phones so we wouldn’t get lost.

We found the Château Vaudreuil Hôtel & Suites and were thoroughly impressed by the accommodations I’d booked. It was obvious this hotel had a thriving wedding business as the manicured lawns were graced with dozens of Greek statues and gorgeous flower beds. Gazebos and pavilions were scattered throughout the grounds that sat along the banks of Lake Saint Louis. Our room was a beautiful suite furnished with terry cloth robes, king sized bed, and fine linen sheets. It really felt as though we were on a honeymoon. The hotel included a fine restaurant that touted a business casual dress code. I hadn’t brought any slacks but we decided to inquire anyway. I asked the maître d’ if we were dressed appropriately. In what I perceived as a condescending French accent, he nodded to Janet and quipped “she is, but you are not.” With menus in hand, he led us to the table as Janet informed me that he’d only been kidding with me. There is no rushing a fine meal, and we seemed to be in no hurry to receive our food, or to finish it. Mid-way through our dinner, a sudden storm erupted, drenching the outdoor tables while the rain pelted against the wall of windows overlooking the lake. We were glad we’d taken our walk before dinner, as this did not look as though it would let up for quite awhile.

Back in the hotel room, I booked our tickets for the bus tour the next day and we enjoyed a nice quiet night in our room. We rested well and were ready for our Montreal adventure. Our tour was scheduled to begin at 8:30 a.m. The bus boarded in the middle of the city. Fortunately for us, Saturday mornings are pretty quiet in Montreal so we easily found our parking garage. The tour began in the downtown business district where we passed the Canadian Olympic headquarters, and other major Canadian corporations.

Our bus stopped at the Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal for a thirty minute free stop. I would have liked to have gone inside, but the entrance was “cash only” and I was not prepared. After the downtown, we crossed the river to Notre Dame Island and the site of  Montreal World’s Fair. Some of the structures still stand on this island that attracted millions of visitors throughout the summer of 1967.

After the fair grounds, we made our way back through the city and to the site of the 1976 Summer Olympics. Montreal boasts one of the best preserved Olympic villages in the world with most of it’s buildings still being used for athletic and civic purposes. While proud of the preservation of these buildings, the driver was very honest in his opinion of the money spent on the Olympics that put little back into the city, compared to the fair which brought Montreal into the 20th Century. Next to the Olympic village was the Montreal Botanical Garden, which is a place I definitely want to see the next time I return to Montreal.

Our last major stop was the St. Joseph’s Oratory of Mount Royal.  This basilica is the largest catholic church in Canada and has one of the largest domes in the world. It is famed for the healings that take place there, and many pilgrims ascend the steps leading up the hill on their knees praying as they climb.

After the tour, we walked through this immaculately clean city to Old Montreal along the old port. In the heart of Old Montreal is St. Paul Street, a partially cobblestone thoroughfare lined with dozens of stores, restaurants, art galleries, and bars.  Hanging baskets of flowers, street peddlers, and artists all added to the festive nature of this part of the city. We found a nice little bistro with outdoor seating for our lunch. Both of us agree that this will not be a once in a lifetime trip.

Our walk back to the parking garage was leisurely, but we were anxious to get to the car as our feet were beginning to tire. Montreal doesn’t look like Paris, but it sure feels like it. The people are wonderfully friendly, and proud of their city. The drive home seemed to take longer than Google maps indicated, but this spontaneous weekend adventure was worth it.

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.” – Helen Keller