Montreal for $15 a night?

Savor the present moment.

While these are good words to live by in general, they are particularly applicable when you're on vacation.

Memories gleaned on holiday can be cherished the rest of your life.

You cannot, however, literally return and re-live the past, expecting it to be the same.

As a Bridge instructor once said, you will never play the same game twice.  Not only will the deal never be identical, but the players at the table will change.  That's true if you're sitting with completely different people or all of you have learned from experience to respond differently.

Perhaps the biggest mistake we can make is to return to a favorite place expecting to recapture magic like releasing lightning from a bottle.

I have wonderful memories of Montreal from forty years ago, when I was a single young man welcomed to a strange foreign land by new friends that I never saw again after spending two days there.

Having successfully stretched my $250 spending money for almost six weeks already and with my pre-purchased bus pass ending soon, I had splurged back then, spending $15 for a room at an antiquated hotel recommended by a friendly French Candian who'd bummed a cigarette from me.

Now, I remember little about that Victorian hotel beyond blue striped wallpaper in my upper floor room which, despite the bathroom being down the hall and shared by everyone on my floor, was by far the most comfortable and deluxe lodging I'd had since leaving my relatives in Alabama.

When I returned to Montreal recently on a comfortable train with pre-paid hotel reservations for two nights, carrying several credit cards providing literally thousands of dollars of spending money, I hoped it would live up to my memories.

On my prior visit, I'd fallen off the turnip truck alone in a strange city, carrying my guitar with absolutely no clue where I would go and only my feet to get there; this time I arrived with my gorgeous wife Julie and simply caught a taxi at the curb that whisked us quickly through the city to the hotel Julie had selected back home.

The charming Hotel Manoir Sherbrooke on the tree-lined avenue was a welcome sight.

As we walked in the door, I had a strong feeling of deja vu.

Perhaps many hotels built in Victorian Era Montreal are similar, but I had the distinct impression this could have been the exact hotel I stayed at 40 years ago.

What would be the odds?

When we went to our room, it had blue striped wallpaper, though it obviously had been changed recently.

Could it be the exact same room, totally refurbished?

No, this one had its own bathroom, although that too had been remodeled recently, possibly having been converted from what had been a separate guest room in a past age that didn't require "en-suite" accommodations.

As we walked down the hall, we passed doors marked toilet and bathroom, and the almost impossible seemed much more likely.

In any case, we enjoyed our two night stay in this welcoming hotel, where the owners and their employees went out of their way to make each guest feel special.

Sure, it cost about nine times as much as my hotel on my first visit, but given inflation and the addition of a private bathroom, $135/night really seems like a bargain for a boutique hotel in one of the best cities in the world.

The desk clerk informed us they held a wine happy hour for guests in the drawing room where we would be enjoying a complimentary breakfast in the morning.  We said we instead wished to go to Old Montreal in search of my memories, so he gladly furnished directions, including a very useful tip about a series of connecting underground malls beneath the streets to Old Montreal.

At the outset of our walk, it wasn't as cold and wet as Quebec, so we stayed at street level to see what we could see.

We were able to see lots of beautiful buildings, statues and other landmarks in the late afternoon and evening, but eventually the clouds opened and began to pour down rain.

Had we found my Montreal haunt where multi-national friends gathered around long tables drinking Molson Golden that somehow eroded language barriers while happy folk music filled the room?

No.

And I have to admit that I became a bit petulant when Julie didn't want to wander down a few more cobblestone streets of Old Montreal after the mist became rain.

I had wanted to re-live the past, but that isn't possible.

However, we were happy to have shelter of the underground walkway recommended by our hotel's front desk clerk.

Once I woke again in the present, while walking back in that indoor mall sheltered from the rain, I remembered that each moment is magical in its own unique way.

The malls offer futurisitic cityscapes, eventually leading to a dazzling music center where patrons of the arts had arrived in gala attire for a night on the town.

We hadn't exactly put on the ritz, so we continued on to McKibbins, an Irish pub around the corner from our hotel that the desk clerk had recommended.

I had a St-Ambroise Cream Ale, and Julie had white wine, while a hockey game played on the TVs.

The crowd was more in the age range of our kids, but we felt comfortable there.

McKibbins had a good pub menu, but we'd grabbed burgers at McDonalds a little earlier, and we left after one round.

The next morning, it was still on the cold side, but the clouds were forecast to clear to unveil a sunny day to explore Montreal.

The free continental breakfast included fresh fruit, French pastries, hard boiled eggs, meats, cheeses, cereal, milk, juice, coffee and tea.  Next to the butter was Cretons, a pork spread popular in Quebec Province.  Cretons has a grainy texture, reminiscent of Deviled Ham and haggis, and I liked it, but I'd give the pastries the highest rating for the buffet.

After breakfast, we went to the beautiful Notre-Dame Basilica of Montreal for mass.  We aren't Catholic, but that doesn't stop us from appreciating the sacred feel of the service in the remarkable interior.

We didn't take photos inside, as that would be inappropriate during a religious service, but use the linked words above to see how beautiful it is.  Here, as throughout Montreal, we were impressed by the obvious care in maintaining their immaculate treasures, with all of the intricate nooks and crannies apparently dusted and cleaned religiously.

As the sun gradually rose, we returned to Old Montreal on a pleasant stroll, but it was in the Latin Quarter where we would catch a glimpse of that 1976 magic.