Montréal Mode | ​​DAY 3: (Pt. 3) Roaming Rue Saint-Paul + Christmas Eve Takeout

Read Part 2 HERE !

The conception of a European city is one brimming with first-world pleasures: bread and bakeries, freshly-brewed coffee and intricate pastries, spacious pedestrian pathways, and streets upon streets of shopping galore.

​Montréal had answered to most of these indicators, with the exception of retail therapy.

A handful of souvenir shops surrounded Notre-Dame, but only one stood out from the rest. Kurosity featured kitschy magnets of baguettes in paper bags as well as spinoffs of popular characters such as Minions and Dr. Seuss.

​Within the five-minute radius were at least four other gift shops, but their offerings on the tacky end of Canadiana and not exactly pertinent to the French-speaking city.

Rue Saint-Paul west of St Laurent Blvd was paved in asphalt, facilitating the movement of vehicles. East of the intersection, leading towards Place Jacques-Cartier, were relatively level brick walkways utilized equally by pedestrians and vehicles.

At the centre of the Place Jacques-Cartier was a single geometric LED installation, and surrounding it was concrete and stone tile. The festive string lights that would have been in place in the GTA were nowhere to be seen.

Immediately behind the glowing centrepiece was a sugar shack pop-up. Catering to the stereotypical Canadian niche of maple syrup, the stall offered maple taffy, maple hot chocolate, and even hot waffle bites drizzled in maple syrup.

A ladle of hot syrup would be drizzled onto ice, causing it to harden within seconds. Popsicle sticks were then propped into one end of the sugary streak, allowing the strip to be rolled into a single taffy unit ringing in at $3.25 apiece.

​The activity summoned recollections of Sugarbush Maple Syrup Festival, albeit with an air of sightseeing as opposed to pioneer lifestyle and education.

Continued exploration east of Place Jacques-Cartier led us to an unapologetically pink churro house (or "churreria") and more souvenir shops.

​Our stroll would conclude at the flickering pillars of Bonsecours Market, an indoor marketplace housing wine and fine arts vendors.

​At its west end was Café des Arts/Galerie MAM, a communal space for coffee talks and supporting the local art scene.

Beyond the mandatory visit for indoor plumbing facilities, the marketplace boasted little of interest. Majority of the shops were also observed to be ceasing operations for the day, given the reduced hours of Christmas Eve.

The path up ahead was dim and dismal-looking, prompting us to retrace our footsteps back in the direction of Notre-Dame.

With dusk fully upon us, the La Grande Roue de Montréal could be spotted illuminated over the Bonsecours Basin and St. Lawrence River.

Intrigue towards the pairing of maple syrup and hot chocolate led us back to the sugar shack, where the toasty beverage was procured for a ghastly $5.75. It was disappointingly thin in terms of consistency and hardly succeeded in showcasing the aromatic qualities of Canadian maple.

Routing back along Rue Saint-Paul, it dawned on us that nearly all retailers in the neighbourhood had closed for the day.

​We managed to sneak a visit into Le Petit Dep's second location at the T-intersection of Rue Saint-Paul and Rue de la Montagne. Its storefront was recognized bearing the same mint colour scheme; the interior was equally cozy but slightly more compact.

Notable about the city's service sector was the punctual termination of work operations. Despite successfully entering into the space, any purchase requests were flatly denied. When the credit card terminal had been closed, cash payment was offered, though prominent reluctance remained.
It was only after a few minutes of negotiation that a Maple Financier - one of many, mind you - was handed to us in a paper bag. The item had been marked at $3.50 on its glass display case, but ultimately came to a total of $4.60. However, this discrepancy was the least of our concerns: the willingness to sell was of greater significance.

​With nearly all windows ominously dark, concerns surrounding supper were progressively pronounced. Furthermore, the brick laneways and narrow concrete sidewalks could be tread upon no more - I had unknowingly rolled my ankle at some point during the day.

​We resorted towards the most viable option: walking back to Place d'Armes station, returning to the comfort of our suite, and ordering UberEats.

Quick thinking had been necessary, for many vendors began to halt orders after 6 PM. My transaction had just succeeded in meeting the cutoff period, resulting in a duo of xiaolongbaos and Beef and Gai Lan from Mr. Tang. The package had been delivered swiftly and impeccably - the bag was clean, neatly wrapped, and utterly free of drips and spills!

The BOGO 4-piece set of XLBs were not soupy whatsoever, but still tasty. Whatever appeared to be lacking in depth was also quickly compensated with forkfuls of Macaroni Salad from Schwartz's Deli, which we had belatedly remembered to retrieve from the fridge.

​Three consecutive days of being without greens had instigated a yearning for blanched veggies. Mr. Tang's rendition of Beef and Gai Lan comprised of a higher choy-to-meat ratio, which worked in our favour; it was also fairly mild in flavour in spite of the discernible pieces of garlic floating within.

For the first time, we would be seated before the television on Christmas Eve. Between bites of takeout, we gazed upon the screen, catching snippets of supposedly classic films like How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Home Alone.

We sealed off the meal with a dessert duo of strawberry macaron and chocolate entremet, compliments of the hotel. The macaron was surprisingly delightful: a crackly shell that didn't possess cloying properties and a filling of a luscious strawberry jam. The inclusion teemed with tartness where there would normally be sickeningly sweet buttercream.

Meanwhile, the cake was equal parts nutty and chocolatey. Contrasting splendidly were components of a crunchy base and velvety mousse inscribed in a round of airy sponge.

Both were wonderfully refined profiles to conclude the evening.

A rolled ankle proved insufficient in stopping me from a final evening of exercise. Back to the gym I would head - this time making a beeline for the private exercise rooms.

​The treadmill positioned within the private cardio space was unlike that of any other. The contraption boasted sync features with one's own fitness tracker and also included videos depicting various routes. The idea had been to mimic a given atmosphere, such as hiking in the mountains or jogging on a tropical beach, without ever needing to depart from the comfort of one's indoor studio.

​The stationary bikes were also tested during this visit. My first attempt had been met with errors in French (something along the lines of software not yet being updated). The second took me to a virtual sea-side course in Maui, complete with sunset scenery and volcano sightings.

​Although my duration of usage spanned just two days, W Montréal had provided the most exemplary hotel gym experience. From the abundance of towels and water bottles to combined shower-lavatory and private cardio rooms, the two-floor Detox Fit facility had enabled one to embrace fitness comfortably even while away from home.