A day in the life of a free man
It is the beginning of the summer in Montreal. I don’t know if it’s thanks the sun giving us its vitamins or because the invisible weight of the pandemic has finally been lifted but it seems everyone is in a good mood these days. I came back to Montreal for a new beginning after my last adventure overseas. Though it largely feels like a continuation of my previous life here I noticed that my relationship to the city has changed. I no longer feel inclined to see far flung neighbourhoods in all directions on a regular basis. I have sufficiently explored this place to know where my favourite spots are, so I often spend my days wandering between them like an old cat.
Among my favourite spots is Lafontaine Park. Its grassy plain, beautiful pond and mature trees are wonderful hosts to all city dwellers who choose to socialize, exercise or to simply contemplate life within its perimeter on a daily basis. Many consider it to be the heart of the city and I endeavour to live within a 20 minute biking radius from it as I often begin and end my days there. I often sit in the centre of the park to watch the world go by. If I am lucky I am joined by some friends, otherwise I keep myself company with my guitar.
Once I have ingested a sufficient amount of psychoactive substances I often decide to ride up Rachel Street all the way to the other park. Right after I make it onto the bike path I stroll past the famous poutine restaurant called La Banquise and its equally famous lineup. I speed past a few trendy boutiques and expensive grocery stores on my way ever upwards towards the mountain, past the neighbourhood’s largest church and through some of the cities nicest side streets.
When I get to St Laurent Street I have to decide wether I will require more beer or samosas for the rest of the journey. The Pakistani man ever-present in the corner store is always up for a small chat about the weather while the samosas are warming up but is known to judge those who buy the stronger beers he offers. I prefer to encourage the man of Chinese origin in the store across the street if this is my intention as he is far more impersonal.
After I glide across Parc Street I arrive at the statue that marks the site of the city’s weekly celebration of life colloquially known as the Tam Tams. On every Sunday where it is warm enough to be outside people of all walks of life congregate there to dance, drum or suntan in the grass until the night. Years after I first assisted this unorganized gathering it still remains one of my favourite social events in this city. The foot of the mountain is much less busy on other days although a small group of drummers are often present there during the warm afternoons.
Once I’ve caught my breath and gathered my courage I park my bike and head into the forest. Many a tourist from alpine regions have scoffed over Montrealers referring to the Mount Royal as a mountain. It is true that it would be considered a hill at best in many regions but it still manages to rise quite dramatically over the relative flatness of the rest of the island. My favourite spot of this vast urban park is a ledge atop a very steep climb where it is possible to make campfires. Sometimes I bring my friends and some wood up for a nice evening or I just go alone to enjoy my solitude and the view.
When I feel that the time is right I pick up my things and start the return journey all the way back down to Lafontaine. It is just another day that will blur with the others and be forgotten in time but it is another day I enjoyed. Another day I spent living in the present. Another day in which I was free.