La belle Montréal


On dit la plus belle province. Je dirais la plus chaotique, la plus europien.

Montréal is the easternmost canadian city that I am going to reach. After a short night in the outskirts of Toronto, I decided to go a little bit further with Team Strippa and the Van 4 to the next stop and pay a visit to an old friend of my father and his family that runned away to Canada after too many problems in Argentina.

The city is old and rugged, full of unsmiling french people that lack the politeness of the typical canadian. There are no apparent pedestrian crossings and you have to make your way amidst the vehicle hectic pace. Totally old spanish style. Possibly french too. Besides the commercial city centre full of the same ole chain corporations, if you get lost its streets you can find plenty of independent cafés and plenty of proper french baguettes baked in nice-smelling boulangeries. It is definitely a different Canada. A more intermingled language-wise, colour-wise, minded-wise of people. European Style.

Staying again with more old friends in my parents reminds me what future may have to offers. The surprises ahead and what may become of what right now I call friends. Will I ever receive a son of an old pal wherever after 15 years of not knowing much of each other? It's always nice to discover little odds and ends of the beggining of my parents life. How they met, how they lived before I even existed. How they coped with their reality at a time. If I had to do a research paper I would be definietely well documented. Or maybe, the more I learn the more I realize the few I know. One's parents youth remains as a hidden mistery, as something that you know it existed but you don't have a clue how it was. This has been, yet again, another small argentinean spot amidst the canadian sea. A sad place to leave after spending fewer than 2 days, enjoying what it is a good meat barbeque and new potential friends. It is sad leaving people. I am getting sick of it.

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