Allez, allez, Montreal!
Montreal, again. Maybe it is the croissants, the language, or the European culture just a few hours drive from home, but I love this little northern city. It must be the fourth year we've spent between Christmas and New Years pretending to be Québécois, and this year was so different. Less chill, more warmth, and more puppies!
The ability to walk the streets in late December is something to behold of great fortune in Montreal. The weather was crisp, but not the biting cold that was to be expected. We walked to the Jean-Talon market for our cheese, olives, and bread. We hiked Mont Royal for a snowy view from the top. The street art could fully be enjoyed along Rue St. Laurant as we ate our way around town for some snails at Le Majestique and poutine at La Banquise.
The trip ended in the woods near Mont Tremblant, when I took on the job of musher and yelled "allez, allez!" to some eager huskies that pushed us up a mountain. It was more of a harrowing experience than I'll let on here, but the journey as a whole did not let me down. Even amid the cold, gusting wind and some miscommunication with the lovely French language, the thing I crave so deeply in a vacation was met with exactly what I'd hoped for: adventure.