Montréal.

We went on the biggest weekend of the year for the city of Montréal - the weekend of the Grand Prix, the Francofolies de Montréal Festival (a musical festival) and all sorts of parties overflowing from both events - including a joyous fireworks show.



We rode around everywhere on bikes, because Montréal has Vélibs! (Well, they are called "Bixis"). Just like Paris, except better because the bikes are not marred by the public for fun.




Nestor was there in Montréal, the famous majordome (butler) in the world of Tintin. I guess they love Tintin too.









One of my favorite things about Montréal was the French. When I would speak to cab drivers, they would tell me that I had a Parisian accent and would applaud my French. Let's just say it doesn't happen that way in another place I lived where people speak a lot of French. I made sure Xavier was paying attention when the compliments were paid. I was quite surprised at how different the French was in Montréal - the accent particularly. It seemed a lot like an American accent in French. And their vocabularly logic was much more sensible to me. For example, a stoplight in Montréal is lumière - direct translation from light, but in Paris they use feu instead. When I first arrived in Paris, people laughed at me for employing lumière (and for so many other reasons, let's be honest). In Montréal and Québec they often translate very literally. Sometimes it is surprising - stop signs, for example. In France, stop signs say STOP. In Québec, stop signs say:



We ate the famous Poutine, which is french fries with cheese curds mixed in and gravy on top. Very funny mixture.