Observations of a Budding Quebecophile – Post 3

Well, folks, it’s time for the long awaited “observations of a Quebecophile” post. I love Top Ten lists, but doubt I can put together that many poignant observations (yet), so will provide below an undifferentiated list, and let you rank them yourself. Here it comes…

 

Blondes have more fun. I mentioned in blog post No. 1 about my realization that I, a natural blonde with blonde instincts (no jokes out there, now), was surrounded by a seaway of brunettes and black-haired nations. Many people in Quebec are French-Canadian so the dark-haired look must come from heredity. To solidify this observation note that brunette is actually a French word. This observation has held true everywhere we have gone. Dark hair rules, except in the older generation. I am still a bit queasy about this, in fact, yesterday at the Farmer’s Market I saw a blonde-haired, Norse looking guy coming down the sidewalk at me and wanted to hug him.

Thin to win. Another physical observation about the largely French-Canadian population here in Quebec is their very good fitness. The thin body-type seems to be as popular as brunette hair. We’re not sure if they are more health conscious, more diet conscious, or just plain more conscious. We’re not sure if this observation holds across Canada, but here in Quebec they eat well and stay trim.

Poutine, what do you mean? This thin and trim fact flies in the face of the first uniquely Montreal food choice we encountered. This dish is Poutine, pronounced like pooh-teen.  It is not high dining, but rather a dish of French fries topped with cheese curds and gravy. Ugh. I won’t post a picture of this dish for you. This dish takes the American, “Do you want fries with that?” to a whole new level. If you don’t know what cheese curds are, they look like popped popcorn kernels, small, white, blobs of cheese. So, the Poutine Diet is likely not the one that keeps Quebec thin.

Bike Lanes. Quebecois love to bike, I mean, bicycle, early and often. There is a strong bicycle culture here with many trails, lanes, paths, and even the main road through Ste-Anne-de-Bellevue is a dual bicycle and car route. This particular roadway, Bord-du-Lac, or Lakeshore Drive, has stop signs very regularly – much more often than an American driver would tolerate – which cars, but not bicyclists, must obey (or, if the bicyclist should, they don’t). Cars share the road graciously with bicyclists, even with packs of bicyclists that ride as one. The bicycle club ride is very popular, especially on Saturday mornings, when groups of cloned-bodies of brunettes can be seen in colorful spandex bicycle suits riding down Bord-du-lac like a school of fish migrating up the Saint Lawrence. Despite the roadway courtesy with cars, I have never heard a Montreal biker yell, “On your left” – as we do in the U.S. – as they go streaking by.

French-Canadian Fashionista. Here in Quebec the women dress like they are going out to a fine restaurant and the men dress like teenage boys. These thin, brunette, French-heritage women bring it all. Shopping for groceries in a black, spaghetti-strap dress, with matching heels, walking the boardwalk in the same, dressed for a night at the Opera to attend a picnic. Dresses are the everyday wear of choice for Quebec women. You think I am joking, but I am not. I’m not talking dressed for a wedding, but actually wearing clothes other than blue jeans. However, the men that escort them balance things out. Men typically wear cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals, flip-flops, or tennis shoes. I don’t know how these woman put up with these guy’s poor couture. How to Ruin a Photo 101: Stand By This Guy. One tick in favor of the men’s fashion is they avoid t-shirts with images of skeletons, fireballs, aged rock n’ roll singers, motorcycles, and Mickey Mouse.

Well, I’m not at number ten yet on this list, but I have a few more weeks to go. I’ll stop here for now. I’m off for an afternoon bike ride in my cargo shorts and t-shirt.

Bonne journee,

Tom

P.S. Coming soon...a Bonus Blog: Marti's Montreal Memoirs.