Hello World

I’m so happy to be home in Montreal, I feel like I am a man of 2 homes both of which I happen to love just as much. Right now I am in my mom’s gipsy palace in Outremont on a hot day. We both agree that AC is a last resort and we are pushing efficient ventilation to the max. Scratch that, she just turned it on.

By choosing this title, does it mean that I’m coding?

I was nervous to take the plane but once I got on it, the anxiety disappeared because I’m not quite scared of flying. We had a good amount of legroom for economy and the five hour flight went swimmingly even though I was between two people.

Jet lag was crazy but I had a solid mid-day nap which proved essential for a serene state of mind.

Three days later things have went so fast. I took my 70 year old mom to virage campus to listen to some world music tech house. I feel proud to have her by my side at such eclectic event, it’s not like I have to tend to her, she just lounges and enjoys the vibe. This coming Sunday promises to be an awesome edition of these nights With Dimensions I can’t wait for us to go.

Here I am bar hopping in the village, taking it all in, ready for anything.

I was very impressed walking back home in the early morning to find pedestrian areas where common streets used to lie. There’s nothing like sacrificing convenience for cars to curb CO2 emissions and in a city like this where many wish to see air quality improved. Without the backing of committed Citrizens, I don’t see how these wonderful initiatives could have ever seen the light of day.

Where the mural festival is quickly filling Vancouver with overly curated but appreciated displays of street art, graffiti has been the at the heart of Montreal life for generations. It’s organic evolution is more than an afterthought, and is part of the very soul of this city.

This colourful perspective leads to the iconic triple hill which gave Montreal its name. In the early stages of the settlement, Ville-Marie and Montreal were both valid names and therefore interchangeable until Montreal was officially (yet with no official statement) chosen somewhere in the 18th century.

This apartment is a bit creepy and reminds me of a horror movie from my childhood calle Opération Beurre de Peanut or The Peanut Butter Opration where a house’s only entrance is a dark attick window only accessible by walking up a pile of rubbish. There, a villain is growing children’s hair to sell it as wigs. I’m afraid of this ominous window to this day but I’m sure it would be the only part of the movie to give me the jeepers were I to watch it again.

It is not as a tourist that Montreal is my playground because I feel connected to this place in a deep way. It is where I learned that being myself makes me happiest. The ornate colonial architecture takes from many places in Europe Portugal having influenced my beloved Mile-End with it’s wooden sculpted rails and columns. The morning light shining on the brick walls, I open my arms to a world of unique experiences.

I took these photos with my Hussein’s P9 and there are no filters except for the one with the DJ.