The View from Hats and Heels: Calgary is not Montreal

Which is why we visit at least once a year. Just got back to cattle country from five days at the Hotel Bonaventure, my favourite of all I have visited. When I worked for Maclean-Hunter in the late sixties and early seventies, we used to stay there on trips from Toronto. Sitting in the lobby bar (where else?!) I could still see my publisher, John Downey, across from me. Long dead, he was a non-stop smoker/drinker, but a great journalist, and taught me everything I know about the publishing business. He also bought me a lot of clothes and spoiled me rotten....just....because. He was a great guy, RIP.

The Bonaventure is a fascinating place. It is two floors of hotel atop eight or so stories of convention halls and features an inner courtyard of ponds, waterfalls, streams, ducks and fish surrounded by magnificent trees and foliage. I have always wondered how they hauled all that up there in 1967, when it was built? What an undertaking and one that would never be duplicated today. But it is unique. You cannot believe you are atop a convention centre in downtown Montreal. Feels more like a country inn surrounding a natural pond.

Sitting at the bar, as I always do, the bartender told me that the water doesn't freeze so the ducks stay in the pond all year 'round. The fish, however, are moved to a tank. He also told me that during migration season, ducks flying over often land and take up residence while other permanent residents will sometimes fly off with their wild cousins and new boyfriends never to be seen again. When they die, they are given to butcher shops. Hey, here today, dinner tomorrow!

One day at lunch at the Sofitel -- another place we always frequent -- a very distinguished and handsome gentleman entered and sat next to us. Listening to our conversation, he joined in and we discovered he had worked for the Quebec government in Ottawa during the tumultuous Levesque days, when separation was all around. B and he shared stories, secrets and rumours of that period, when B worked in the Privy Council Office in federal/provincial relations. Why their paths had never crossed beat me?!

They both agreed that without Alberta and Toronto -- i.e., $$$$ -- there would be no Canada. He also agreed with me when I said that for Legault to brag about Quebec's having balanced its budget was pure BS. It was balanced thanks to transfer payments from Alberta!

Hotel guests were primarily French/French, British and American. In fact we met no other Canadians. There is a beautiful pool on the roof, where people lounge all day long. I would never get into such a pool, bathers flopping in fully greased up and all. Definitely a "yuck" for me. One thing I did find jarring were young French girls going topless. Even though they weren't more than eight or ten, you could see little breasts budding and it alarmed me. Ah, the French are so annoyingly "French".

Also alarming was how fat many guests were and wouldn't you know it, the women all wore bikinis. Even walking through the lobby! Please. And everyone drinks all the time. As for shoes, all depressingly ugly.

One evening we were dining at the hotel bar/restaurant and in barged about 10 "Ugly American" young men. Our table was next to the bar, but they paid no heed and just boorishly stood around with their asses in my face, laughing and roaring at how amusing and clever they were. We finally de-camped to another spot.

As a common, garden-variety wine drinker, I nonetheless loved reading some of the wine descriptions. "Dry, fruity with a final note of berries"...."Very pleasant finish with a slight lemon flavour," read a couple. Must have been written by the same gang that writes greeting cards.

I did enjoy speaking French again and was pleasantly surprised that it was all still there, even after eight years in the Prairie wilderness and many years since my retirement from the bilingual public service.

Montreal, we will be back.