My Montreal (Goodbye Montreal)

When I left Edinburgh at the end of May last year, I was sad. Deep stuff KD, please do bear with me. Obviously I was also excited; my departure marked the beginning of summer. It also meant I was one step closer to starting at McGill. However, at that point, the overwhelming feeling was a negative one.

That was because I knew what I'd be missing. I love Edinburgh, deeply, and by the end of second year I knew it very well. All the more, Edinburgh is at its best in early summer. The pink blossom in the Meadows and the yellow gorse illuminating Arthur's Seat. Most of all, I knew there were some hard goodbyes to be said, people I wouldn't see for as long as eighteen months. There was a whole series of them, each more unpleasant than the last. But, at least I knew I would be back, they would be back, and Edinburgh life would resume.

Then there's Montréal, then there's McGill. Despite having only arrived eight months ago, I feel this goodbye is going to be equally, at least initially, difficult. And that's not purely due to my penchant for being overly sentimental.

People say university life is a bubble. Time and time again, fellow exchange students and I have reached the consensus that our time abroad is a smaller and more pristine bubble within that still. Not "better" than any other university experience, but unique. We're all aware of this, and late night conversations have regularly come round to this and inevitably end with us in agreement about how lucky we are to have been provided with this opportunity. You see, it is this "exchange bubble" that makes its bursting so difficult. Its brevity calls upon you to seek adventure constantly and make the most of every experience, because the clock won't stop ticking on (an unfortunate realisation when faced with McGill finals season.) It is constant excitement and, I will admit, a lot of pressure. The lovely fizzing pressure behind a ripe champagne cork though, not a horrible pressure. Granted I have felt under a lot of nasty pressure this year, but more often than not it has been self-inflicted..

Due to this, there is a surreal intensity to life away. Friendships forged run far deeper, and new adventures are sought out daily. This is a good approach to life, and a lesson learned for people like me with a habit of taking everything a little too seriously. This intensity is what makes Montréal so difficult to part with in many ways. It is a place filled with all these strong emotions, and it is these that have lead me to have such an affinity with it so quickly. For one thing, I have been overwhelmed by the genuine friendship offered to me by so many McGill students as well as by members of the Montréal community. (If you think I am writing about you, I am. Every smile in the corridor, every invite offered and all the other little gestures are the main reason I will miss this time so much.) Travelling the breadth of Canada - quite literally I have now travelled the entirety of the West-East Canadian railway now - has been a very successful exercise in making Montréal feel like a place to come home to: a place of warm faces and familiarity.

Yet, unlike my departure from Edinburgh or even my teary goodbyes when I returned to Canada after Christmas, I have no definite date set for my return to Montréal. More so, by the time that I do come back, I think almost certainly near all of those who I will miss most will have departed too. I have a friend who worries our exchange will rapidly feel like a dream. Writing this out now, I can see why.

Ultimately though, I don't need a day circled in my calendar. There is no doubt in my mind that I will be back: to the city, to Canada, to North America. The fondness with which I will remember this year is draw enough. Exchange has been so hard, but also the time of my life and - as the cliché goes - has provided me with the space, time and impetus to develop and strengthen as a person. Being away from what you know (Canada isn't a totally alien culture, of course, but it has proved at once more and less familiar to me as time has gone on) and who you love allows you to evaluate, to truly value, the relationships that anchor you to go. And endless thanks must be said to each of those anchors, without whom I would undoubtedly have been a (more) frequent mess this year. Distance teaches you what, and who, home really is to you. And it is certainly a more abstract and complicated place than I once thought!

So while there are many smiles that I won't see for far too long, and many views I'll have to keep in my mind's eye for now, I know that while leaving is sad, it is far more truthful to say that Montréal has made me so happy. It isn't home, not really, and it will be wonderful to be back in the U.K. However, contrary to my initial apprehensions, it came far closer to being so than I could ever have imagined.

À la prochaine, Montréal.

Now, bloody hell, someone pass me a Yorkshire Pudding.

"Beautiful British Columbia": Vancouver and Victoria

Once we had finally reached the end of our train journey, over eight hours late, we arrived in Vancouver. It was warm, there was NO snow, there was . . . GRASS, and beautiful cherry blossom. I was one happy camper, well hotel-stay-inner. As we'd lost most of our first day, of only two, we stopped only momentarily at our hotel in English Bay before heading out to explore Stanley Park and get our bearings. 

Following four days on a train, stretching our legs . . . especially in such fair weather and with such beautiful views was a delight. I had fantastic time travelling with Mum before I headed to my conference, and I'll leave it mostly to the pictures (and they're quite a few . . .) to speak for themselves.

Day One: English Bay, Stanley Park and Vancouver Skyline

Anyone knows me knows how I feel about lighthouses. Especially red and white stripy ones...

Day Two: Capilano Suspension Bridge and Grouse Mountain

The Capilano Suspension Bridge is ultimately . . . a bridge across a very picturesque gorge. However the whole location was really worth the visit. Throughout the trees, impossibly tall and straight, there were several walkways, and most impressively a new metal walkway that hangs over the gorge, a series of cantilevered bridges anchored to the stone at only sixteen points.

We then took a cable car up Grouse Mountain. We had dinner reservations at the Observatory Restaurant and spent the time prior to it exploring the peak. It was incredibly quiet as a lack of snow has closed nearly all of the ski slopes up there, but it left us time to walk in the silence with staggering views. We wandered within inches of two bears hibernating in the bear sanctuary, and I attempted to ice skate however the ice was so melted that I settled an inch straight into it! Our meal was lovely, and the sunset was beautiful: So. Much. Sky.

Day 3: The Float Plane to Victoria, Vancouver Island

We were up bright and early to fly across to Victoria from the mainland for my conference. Normally the journey isn't one of the very exciting bits of a holiday, but this was a really unique experience. Apologies for the windows getting in the way of all of these shots!

Days 4 and 5: Exploring Victoria

While for the most part I was based at the University of Victoria (originally a college of McGill, who knew) or with my host in the neighbourhood of Oak Bay, I had a little time to explore in the brief while I was as far from home that I had ever been! I won't dwell on the conference here, other than to say it was (what a surprise) another fantastic experience that I glad to have added to my academic arsenal and I was very glad to meet some very warm and wise people. 

British Columbia Parliament Buildings

Having woken up to -30 degrees and snow for the last few months, opening my window to sunshine - and indeed a nest of bald eagles - was a real joy. I walked along Oak Bay and instantly decided I was going to retire here, one day, I mean look at that for a view!

Oak Bay: I'm going to retire here.

Fisherman's Wharf, part of Victoria harbour, is a beautiful little alcove home to the floating houses. Not house boats, these require another boat to move anywhere, but each of these are occupied year-round and there are no vacancies at present! It was a very sweet place with live music, fresh seafood and some friendly seals. I popped on the water taxi home, a tiny vessel that genuinely looked like a bright yellow toy boat for $4 and was overall just in total disbelief that it was so sunny and summery. I even stood on an actually sandy beach (I am typing this as it is -22C outside).

Fisherman's Wharf

Having not been able to see the Rockies from the train on our way over, I was luckily able to get more than adequate a view on the flight home!

Aboard The Canadian: Toronto > Vancouver by Rail

It takes just over four hours to fly from Toronto to Vancouver, and just under four days to complete the same journey on the railway. Naturally, when posed with the choice, Mum and I choose the latter. We don't regret it. For four days of travel in comfort, with really great food (so much food), unbeatable views and good company it really was good value (especially considering the whole thing was two for the price of one!)

By rail, you get to travel straight through the endless lakes of Ontario, pass through the Prairies and then - most beautiful of all - go right through the heart of the Canadian Rockies. All of this can be seen from the comfort of the Panoramic Carriage, a specially designed elevated car at the back of the train with a domed glass roof offering 360 degree views (and free tea and biscuits 24 hours a day, I mean what more could you want). I mention the glass for two reasons, first because it is just a super cool thing to have as part of your train and secondly, because it serves as the excuse for the quality of some of my photos; they were nearly exclusively taken through a window . . . some cleaner than others. The journey got progressively more picturesque as it went on, so bear with the first few photos, they just give you a sense of the experience as a whole.

Chilling on a snow lounge-set in Winnipeg. We were meant to stop here for 4 1/2 hours, but as we were delayed this was cut to 45 minutes. Mum and I managed a highly successful whistle stop tour, however!

The cabin (note the net on the upper bunk, to hold me in in times of heavy breaking).

Train perhaps not as weather-proof as a Brit would have expected . . .

The Rockies at sunset.

We were meant to arrive at the Rockies during the early afternoon. However, by this point we were running over eight hours behind schedule. This was as a result of freight trains always having priority over our passenger train, and there was a heavy back log of such trains due to a derailment several weeks ago. We were all initially very disappointed at the prospect of heading through the mountains in the pitch black, however ultimately we were incredibly lucky. By perfect moonlight, the snow capped tips of the mountains were breathtakingly clear (although beyond the capabilities of my point and shoot camera). We even got to see Mount Robson, Canada's highest peak, in its full glory. I have been told that the mountain is only visible in full - without clouds covering its peak - on twelve or so days a year. So that was the beginning of our good fortune.

Due to our delay we woke up to Fraser Canyon, somewhere normally passed through in the dead of night. Route enthusiasts on board who had taken the train across Canada in excess of twenty times had never seen this portion of the journey in day light - and what a thing to have missed out upon! The canyon was stunning in the early light of morning, that's for sure. These are just a couple of photos we managed to snap before breakfast:

Can you see the freight train winding across the other side of the canyon? Over two miles long it total . . .