Saturday took us into Old Montréal: first a drive to Montmorency Metro Station, then a Metro ride to Place‑d’Armes. Ever since the Afib incident, heat and humidity have been my sworn enemies, and stepping out onto the street felt like walking into a sauna packed with several thousand of Montréal’s closest friends. My first instinct was to turn around and flee back to the trailer. But after battling Québec traffic, a sport in it’s own right, retreat didn’t feel like an option.
We wandered for a bit before admitting that food was urgently required, so we lurched into the first restaurant without a massive lineup—Pangea. We ordered, then struck up a conversation with the couple at the next table. They were… not thrilled. His food hadn’t arrived at all, hers was apparently tragic, and they left in a huff. Not exactly confidence‑boosting. We debated cancelling our order, but before we could act, the manager began loudly dressing down a staff member about five feet from us. Moments later, someone we assumed was the owner whisked him away for what looked like a “calm‑down walk.” With all the drama unfolding, our cancellation window closed—but when the food arrived, it was surprisingly good. A plot twist we welcomed.
Re‑energized, we headed to Notre‑Dame Cathedral. Inside, it’s breathtaking: deep blues and purples that feel almost meditative, keeping the crowds hushed and reverent. The ornate pillars, the painted vines, the ceiling dotted with stars—you have to remind yourself it’s all hand‑painted. Truly astonishing craftsmanship.
Back outside, we wandered some more. The tourist shops didn’t call to us, but we did stumble upon a quirky little café/ice‑cream parlor called Trois Cats at 34‑15 Rue de la Commune. Retro vibe, charming atmosphere, and their own branded bags reading Trois 34 Cats—a play on words we enjoyed.
Our Montréal takeaways: beautiful, cosmopolitan, hot, humid, and extremely busy. We appreciated the European influence in the architecture and the blend of old and new. We also marveled at how anyone actually lives there, given the lack of pedestrianized streets and the constant battle between cars and tourist crowds.
After a bit more wandering, we headed home. As we stepped out of Montmorency Metro Station, a spectacular thunderstorm rolled overhead—bone‑rattling thunder, dramatic lightning, and rain so heavy it felt like someone had upended a bucket over the entire city. Unsurprisingly, the downpour did nothing to improve Montréal’s traffic situation but did make for some misty landscape scenes on the drive back to the campground.
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