Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Story I wrot about Montreal...

The Closest Thing To Europe

Somehow I feel like I will never forget that day. The warm May sun beat down on us as the cool breeze tugged gently at our hair.
“I can’t believe we’re finally here” I whispered in your ear as you softly kissed my head. Everything felt so right being here, together.
As we strolled down the narrow, winding streets of Old City, Montréal, I looked around trying to take everything in. It is all so beautiful and perfect, it is almost overwhelming. All around us are old, magnificent buildings designed in an authentic European style; all made of ancient stone and brick with wooden doors. My father always told me that traveling to the Old City was the closest thing to traveling to Europe without crossing the ocean. Never had he been so right.
Little cafés line the streets and people gather in the squares to watch street performers and mimes. The aroma of various different foods that had drifted out of restaurants open windows mixed with the fragrance of pipe smoke filled the air. And the sound of city life followed us everywhere; the roar of mopeds, the hum of conversations in thick Canadian French, the click-clop of horse hooves against the coble stone, plus the joyful noise of the music festival that was going on that day. All these things combined with the charming sound of your laughter, is the most stunning noise I have ever heard.
As we enter Place Jacques- Cartier, the fresh scent of flowers is overpowering. The square is filled with an astounding array of brightly colored flowers and various, unique street venders selling all kinds of merchandise. The hysterical laughter of a group of high school students fills the square as they watch, in outstanding amusement, a street mime tease their friends. It’s hot, and we’re both sweating, but we hold hands anyway. My fingers interlocked in yours feels so incredibly right, I don’t want to let go. I looked up at the sky, which is a dark blue eliminated with what little sunlight was left. The air was clear as crystals when they shine in the light. Taking a deep breath, I swear I could taste the bitter sweetness of Montréal’s city air.
After a marvelous day with you, I stop to take a final glance of admiration for the scenic, deep-rooted buildings, the rigid streets, the dazzling flora, and for the city in which I had fallen in love in. As we walked hand in hand through this picturesque world we had fallen in love with and in, I realized somehow I would never forget this day.

2 comments:

Haleine said...

A very sweet story. Your description of the city is spot on.

J'aime Montreal!

matryoshka said...

Moi aussi!!J'ai besoin d'y aller encore une fois!!!