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It has taken me 13 years of living in the U.S to make it across the Northern border.

I have heard many things about Montreal and never quite understood why French people would travel that far across the ocean to visit a city that still speaks French (and think they had a taste of America…), so I must admit a negative bias.

We only stayed a couple of days. I didn’t expect it to feel that much like France. It nearly felt spooky to me. The fonts, the colors, the buildings, the way people interact, the natural juxtaposition of traditionalism and progressivism, little things like concept of personal space (Quebecois just like Europeans have a smaller ‘personal bubble’ in crowds than Americans), bikes and scooters (which are camera magnets for me..go figure..), the omnipresence of the French language and the absence of English (although it was so hard for me to speak French for some reason…Anna found it hilarious to watch me being confused and speaking English to French speaking Canadians!) and oh, the food of course…bread tastes like bread and that I loved!

 

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