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July in La métropole


Beautiful storm clouds followed us as Mom and I drove north from Philadelphia. Ominous colours, but I liked the shape.


Our first morning here, we went to a beautiful little tea shop right up the road from our hostel, and I got to indulge in a giant bowl of matcha, my favourite type of tea. We went here on our last (my first) trip last summer, too - tradition begins!


On Wednesday, we took a half-day walking tour of the city, including a long stop in the open market in Little Italy.


One woman sadly felt the need to create a sign for her bicycle in both languages reminding the public that it was not a waste receptacle. As sad as it is that this was necessary, I admire her ingeuinity!


There is a movement going on to green the city by filling back alleyways with gardens and trees. So inspiring.


Yoga time! Very peaceful class, though as usual I wished for more French and less English. C'est la vie.


In The Village (the high point of the gay life, and strongly supported by all three levels of government), we happened upon a festival promoting local foods. There were many samples from local farmers, and one table was making food sculptures with kids.


This wise sign reminds us (roughly translated), “You can’t by happiness, but you can buy chocolate, and that’s sort of the same thing.” Heck yeah.


Aaaaand... the main street of The Village remains as epic as ever.


This piano is one of many that were placed around the city just to get people out and about playing music together in the community. WHAT.


And my high point... brunch! Crudessence, the local raw vegan gourmet spot, may be my favourite place in the world right now. Well, favourite place to eat, at least.


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Aug. 22nd, 2013 08:46 pm (UTC)
Such a lovely beautiful place!
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

--Emily Dickinson