Traveling with very little kids is never boring: they basically spend their time trying to understand their new environment, testing the new boundaries and expectations. I had to nap at home. Do I have to nap here too? You said no to eating chords when I tried it in our living room. Am I free to eat them here? Gravel in the playground? That's novel! Is it crunchy?
As you know, I travel a lot. I mean, not during Covid years, but in other years -- a lot. It used to be with Ed, but he's decided to be more of a home body, so now it's alone, or I join up with the young family. But as the grandkids multiplied, my ability to give parents a break and take care of the pack in some foreign country while mom and dad go and have some fun has been... diminished. At home, I can still do it. But in distant lands, watching all three is not a piece of cake. Especially this year, when the hands down most rambunctious grandchild of all my grandkids is only one. Looking after them basically means you have to look after him, 100% of the time, and hope that the other two will fend for themselves.
I should note that in looking around me, I often see grandparents, especially in parks, and especially younger grandparents, looking after one or two kids. But I never see just one grandparent, at my age, looking after three, where one or more are just toddlers. I assure you, us grandparents would like to claim invincibility and great strength, but it's all a front really. We are old and our joints ache. Only shhhh! Don't tell anyone.
This brief introduction into what it's like at age 69 to be traveling with little guys, is also a good introduction into my day: I was alone, then with the young family, all of them, and then with just part of them, then alone once more. I didn't rest until I came back in the evening to my hotel room, but man oh man, I then rested good and hard. No way would you have coaxed me into any sort of walk. My smart watch has repeatedly told me that I'm setting new movement records. True, it's not a very old watch, so it's familiarity with my life is limited, but still, I feel it! I have walked a lot.
It began in the morning, as I set out to find another recommended cafe -- La Finca, a place that prides itself in showcasing local foods. (So that, for example, I bought a bottle of Quebecois wine there. I haven't seen it on any menu, even as I have such fond memories of sampling it when Ed and I were in Quebec many winters back.)
It's a bit of a walk, because La Finca is in downtown Montreal which is not the same as Old Montreal -- place of my hotel. I want you to follow along with me on this walk, because I'm wondering, is it just me, or have others, too, identified this place as being basically a mix of all other North American cities?
Montreal has a little bit of Quebec City in it...
A little bit of Portland Maine...
A little bit of San Francisco!
And maybe a little bit of the farmette!
La Finca, outside. Delightful! Even if I did by accident drop their croissant on the floor and they insisted on replacing it. In preCovid times I may have said -- oh, that's okay, I'll eat it anyway, but these days germs and viruses are scary, so it's best to toss and start again.
Since I happened to be downtown, I wondered if there wasn't a toy store nearby. There is? Thanks, Google. Another fifteen minute walk, further out. The kids would love some small characters for their story telling. I walk on.
And of course, what walks out must return.
So much walking, and it's not even noon yet.
And there is more: I set out then to visit the young family in their Airbnb. Sure, I take the subway to cover most of the distance...
(the next generation, riding and connecting)
... but it still is a bit of a walk to the subway stops and then to their place.
Hello, young family member with a bruised face from playground antics!
Hi, older brother!
They've purchased foods for a picnic. Handily, there is a lovely park is just two minutes from their place.
We all go there for a grand lunch en plein aire.
And then the kids play. Sandpiper by now is in need of a nap, so one parent attends to him, while the rest of us push the other kids on swings, admire their climbing skills and basically watch the little guys as they set out to sample the wonders of the playground world.
And now Sandpiper really needs a full nap. Sparrow could use one as well. Dad stays home with the young men, mommy, Snowdrop and I head out. It's their first subway ride and predictably, Snowdrop loves the adventure of it.
Our goal? To see the Jean Talon Montreal market. I'd read about it just this morning. It brings a huge number of growers, farmers and producers here to sell their stuff. It's a big city so they can do this daily.
(the three colors of asparagus)
Even though we have similar growing seasons (we're both, for example, Zoned 5 for perennials), they seem just this much ahead of us with their produce.
(True, not everything is a local product, but most things are. Certainly the strawberries are Quebecois.)
While here, we pause for ice cream. It's Saturday. There are lines. It's okay!
("hey, do I still have chocolate on my face?")
And we admire the seafoods. Great oysters and of course, great lobsters.
They're in season now and that's just wonderful because Quebec Province really does have the waters for grand lobsters. In fact, very often the lobster you will eat in a restaurant in France will come from Canadian waters.
And speaking of such stuff, this is the one night I am here where I am not eating with the young family. A sitter is with the kids, the parents are going out. Me? I go to the nearby lobster shack (Pincette Bar Homard) and purchase that wonderful dish that's great in all places where lobsters abound: the lobster roll.
(I give it a B+, which is pretty a good grade, considering that I used to be a pro at making good lobster rolls myself, so I do know what's at play.)
I'm back in Vieux Montreal of course, and since it is Saturday, the place is buzzing with visitors. I mean, this may as well be Coney Island in the heat of the summer.
And I like it, but I like even more the fact that my hotel is tucked a bit to the side of it, so that I hear none of the youthful screams that probably go on all night long.
So yes, I feel my age (or nearly that!) after all those miles of walking today. But when you travel and you've had a full day on your feet, you know that you did well! That you saw many things and tasted many foods. Full days are superb. You feel proud that you traveled this far to see this much! So proud...
And tomorrow, we'll all push ourselves even more! Right kids??
In the meantime -- a good night to all! With love...
