Quick, Chic and Easy

I've always believed that you have to leave New York in order to fall back in love with New York. A week exploring Buenos Aires boutiques and art galleries is undoubtedly a life changing experience; but nothing reconfirms that your Manhattan rent is worth it like your first glimpse of that familiar skyline upon return. However, with a shitty economy and even tighter purse string these days, this underpaid magazine employee has had to revaluate the exotic destinations he's been known to jet off to. The south of Spain was replaced with discovering antiquated Acapulco in May, and San Diego surf replaced Hawaii in July.

So when Montreal's Board of Tourism, under the careful guidance of the uber-cool (and former V Mag guru) Nathaniel Schachter at the Sid Lee Agency, recently asked me to check out Montreal instead of Paris, my ears perked up. It was a pretty easy sell. Here's what went down.

FRIDAY

Forty-five minutes in the air, and only half of "Chris Pine in Space" (known to most as the summer blockbuster Star Trek) later, je suis arrivé à Montreal, and I found myself in a very agreeable customs line. I was then whisked over to what would be my accommodations for the weekend, the very on-trend OPUS Hotel. Colorful, modern, Marcel Wanders-friendly, the hotel and its impressive bar/restaurant/patio scene could give the Gansevoort Hotel a run for its money. You can always tell the hotels where the cool kids stay at by the bathrooms (made for sex more than showering) and the curtains (made to keep you from knowing what time of day it is at any hour). This hotel was VERY cool.

I met my blogger partner, Brendan Murphy , who was assigned to me under the very Web 2.0-friendly marketing blitz designed by Sid Lee whereby local experts were paired with bloggers such as I to experience Montreal like a local. And a cuter former club-kid straight boy I could not have asked for. We met at the OPUS's very hip bar KOKO, and I knew we were going to be BFFs when I saw he was drinking the same olive drenched martini for which I had been waiting exactly two car rides and a flight. The crowd was very much a mix of men who were not afraid of a gym, girls not afraid of high heel and an overpriced dress and scenesters with whom I felt right at home. We were lost in conversation about nocturnal life up north, his favorite local bands and DJs (locally, his all time favorite being Plants and Animals. But Brendan had much more in store for our evening…

We checked out Tokyo, where the hits were playing in the huge patio that never I assume gets about three months of use every year. But my favorite stop of the night was meeting all the locals at a dive bar down the street called Copacabana with all the seedy sorts you'd run into on, say, Avenue A. I was at home!

SATURDAY

Saturday afternoon brought us to Brendan's friends' house for brunch (the theme of this trip, after all, was to "live like a local") and I didn't mind one bit. As a New Yorker, brunch is like my national pastime. This was an easy start to what would be a very long day, as it was the first day of Osheaga, a monster of a music festival set in the city's Jean-Drapeau Park. With six stages, morning to midnight shows and the most beautiful of settings (you can see the amazing dome -- The Biosphere -- built by us Americans, for Expo '67, and a major city landmark), it's like Disneyland for hip music lovers. What was most unique about the festival is that they hired local artists to create temporary interactive installations like Alexis O'Hara, whose "Squeeeque: The Speakerbox Igloo" was one of the coolest things this writer has seen in a while. Another amazing Spike Jonze Where the Wild Things Are-meets-"craft time" installation by YPF Art Collaborative was equally impressive. We stayed for Jason Mraz and an alarming lovefest to "I'm Yours," an awesome, very New Orleans-y Roots performance, but it was Coldplay that the kids were waiting for. After grandma got her nap in, the whole Sid Lee team met me for dinner at Chasse et Pêche, Like a cool West Village standby, it had low ceilings, beautiful rich retro traditional décor with hints of modern design humor (wine carafe chandeliers, anyone?). The seven-course tasting menu, which included a very informed wine pairing by our stunning waitress Aurelia Fillion, was sensational. Try the seared scallops/fennel purée/lemon confit or rabbit with bacon ravioli, oyster mushroom and parsnip entrée and get back to me. The premise of the meal was a fusion of fish and game, which might seem odd to us, but was apparently natural for Canadian owner Hubert Marsolais.

The perfect nightcap to my evening was the absolutely adorable (and too young for print) press coordinator Sam Sauvageau who kindly gave Brendan the night off and showed me what the homos did in his city. Montreal after all, is an important and storied international gay mecca. And upon seeing St. Catherine Street, I understood why. A mile long, it made Christopher and the Castro seem like child's play. Sky Bar was the highlight -- it was like an H&M flagship in size and was similarly full of inexpensive clothing on the skinny cute boy mannequins. For the sake of professionalism, Sam and I kept out of the infamous male strip clubs and headed home at a somewhat respectable hour. Of gay note is that the same weekend as Osheaga is a href="http://www.diverscite.org/" target="new">Divers/Cité, a gay Mardi Gras of sorts with every major DJ, queer band and drag queen of note performing.

SUNDAY

My last day brought some unseasonable rain (much to my dismay -- Sunday's bands were much more my speed!) so we forwent bands like Miike Snow, The Ting Tings, Vampire Weekend, Amazing Baby, Hollerado, and Tiga at Osheaga for a more leisurely indoor brunch at a very Canadian-cum-Williamsburg joint called Sparrow, followed by a walkabout/coffee sojourn with host Brendan in the very-Village like Mile End neighborhood that was chock full of cool record stores, vintage boutiques, old Italian man coffee shops and amazing, artful graffiti and club posters alike.

What was most intriguing to me about Montreal was how thoroughly French it was, but how comfortable I felt there. The people are tirelessly friendly and handsome. The architecture and art are inspiring and cutting edge. Neighborhoods define the city's personality, but if I had to make it in a blender I'd do equal parts Boston and Paris with a dash of Brooklyn. And while St. Laurent Street provides a plethora of chic shops and stately parks, it was the neighborhoods like Mile High End that spoke to me the most.

Paris, who?