I sat on the river bank, next to the almost still St Laurent. Were it not for the occasional metallic echoes of cargo containers emanating from the port across the river, it could have easily been somewhere far, far away in the wilderness.
Looking up, I could see the silhouette of Montreal's skyscrapers, which from this distance look like little stacked up boxes. On a rough boulder I sat, listening to the sounds of the water, watching the clouds float by and the calm of my own rhythm breathing. Who would have though just half an hour ago, I was pedalling my bike next to exhaust spewing cars and buses, trying to navigate my way out of the drab and rundown concrete flyovers and underpasses of the city.
Boarding a ferry, I made my way across the river. A gigantic Canadian flag fluttered proudly on the aft side. Water parted and trailed a path of foam and bubbles on the surface of the broad, tranquil river as we cruised through it. The buildings, landmarks, green spaces of Ile St. Helene, the oval and hollow shaped structure of the Biodome, the lighthouse of Vieux Port, the arched back of Mont Royal... they all seem so familiar, but today I was seeing it all from a different place, from a different angle, with different eyes.
Today I felt like a tourist, like the other tourists on board the ferry, exploring and discovering, trailing unchartered paths and waters and driven by a sense of curiosity. Except I was a tourist in my own hometown, and feeling every bit more happy to be living in this beautiful town.
Looking up, I could see the silhouette of Montreal's skyscrapers, which from this distance look like little stacked up boxes. On a rough boulder I sat, listening to the sounds of the water, watching the clouds float by and the calm of my own rhythm breathing. Who would have though just half an hour ago, I was pedalling my bike next to exhaust spewing cars and buses, trying to navigate my way out of the drab and rundown concrete flyovers and underpasses of the city.
Boarding a ferry, I made my way across the river. A gigantic Canadian flag fluttered proudly on the aft side. Water parted and trailed a path of foam and bubbles on the surface of the broad, tranquil river as we cruised through it. The buildings, landmarks, green spaces of Ile St. Helene, the oval and hollow shaped structure of the Biodome, the lighthouse of Vieux Port, the arched back of Mont Royal... they all seem so familiar, but today I was seeing it all from a different place, from a different angle, with different eyes.
Today I felt like a tourist, like the other tourists on board the ferry, exploring and discovering, trailing unchartered paths and waters and driven by a sense of curiosity. Except I was a tourist in my own hometown, and feeling every bit more happy to be living in this beautiful town.
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