Bonjour! Je m’appelle Tipsy Pipsy. Et toi comment appelle toi?

Ooo la la … Sorry but I’ve just been dying to use my 7th grade French and any excuse will do Tinerate, the Grand Prix is on and I’ve just roared into town and I’m all French revved up. Well, okay, even in my wildest dreams never will I be as easy elegant as a Francophile (Unfortunately! would just love love love to be one of those divinely Capri and loafer casual chic girls. Doing the same apparel in NYC just somehow doesn’t rock it. Oy Vey …)

Anyhoo, I’m in Montreal where in all honesty there was no zoom zoom cos we crawled into town then got lost (much to AP’s chagrin ) because the ‘race’ is on so there are multiple road closures that dear old GPS was unable to keep up with. And, just a quick aside, if you are going to turn the volume down on the little guy, well of course you’re going to miss the exit!!! Oh, and need to mention, also a complete snakes and ladders of roadworks with loads more deadends that left AP and I barely speaking

Tinerate, I’ve already forgiven the city for its aloof introduction and fallen for its international mystique. Oh and the accent! Yes, yes yes, the pseudo French accent (I say that cos DW the barman who is from France tells me that in Montreal they ‘do not speak French‘ but I don’t care cos it still works for little ole one language me ) (And, just before moving on, why is it that I am always gleaning information from the guys in the bar … Mmm … ) But back to point, not only the Montreal French but the stunted English accent of a European!

Anyhoo, growing weary of any budding petrol head notions, I decided to explore the city. My first stop: Old Town. Now this fabulous part of the city is exactly as it sounds, the oldest part!

In May 1642, a group of French settlers founded Montreal on the banks of the river, on a tip of land that is now part of Old Montreal …

This little 17th century settlement has had many incarnations from fortified town, bourgeois centre of the city, to heart of the metropolises and now, historic city centre.

But despite the history, what really amazed me in this granite built town (some of which is original) were the doors. All sorts of wonderful entrances beckoning and if it hadn’t been 94 degrees I would probably have spent longer exploring.

With a turn around time of just over 48 hours, I have barely touched the surface of what this fabulous city has to offer. So many more adventures, so little opportunities …

Till next time.

Tipsy Pipsy xo