蒙特利尔随笔 ｜ Montreal Notes
See below for the English version.
蒙特利尔给我的第一印象是很像曼彻斯特，或许是因为我刚到这的前两天一直在下雨。
但事实上，蒙特利尔很难归类，她不像任何地方。她不像北美，这里的人们说着法语，城市装扮精致；她不像法国，这里没有刻意的优雅，人们随和亲切；她不像英国，这里的街道宽敞，种族多元。
当我一路听着Leonard Cohen的歌，穿过麦吉尔大学，爬上皇家山的观景平台，在这里远眺城市，这里的天际线多少还是有些让我吃惊。城市整洁，很多处建筑有壁画，高楼鳞次栉比。河网密布，没有建筑的地方都是绿色。
直到到这里的第三天，起床后终于引来了大晴天，但当我出门转了一会后，这里的雨又开始下了起来。雨中没有带伞的人们的眼神并不匆忙，应该是已经习惯了这里的阴晴多变。
蒙特利尔的雨很美，这里的雨天比晴天更美。风卷着绿色的枫叶落下，大颗大颗的雨滴随后也落了下来。太阳离开以后，天气会骤然凉了起来，但不算冷。
这几天我并没有花太多时间去蒙特利尔城市探索，只是在麦吉尔大学附近以及我所住的酒店反复穿梭。
一方面，是因为我实在太疲惫了。上周我在柏林出差，周四刚回到杭州，周五又启程飞往蒙特利尔。短短两周内，我在多哈机场中转了四次，每次行程都超过24小时，也算是极限挑战了。
另一方面，我也希望能和这所大学、这座城市建立起一种“日常的关系”。上周在柏林的周日，我用一整天时间密集地city walk，刷了三个博物馆和一个勃兰登堡门，虽然满足了打卡的快感，却少了一些观察和感受的空间。这也是我不太喜欢“特种兵式”旅游的原因：走得越多，越觉得“到此一游”并无法留下太多实质性的东西。
在柏林的后几天，我住在公司附近的一家小旅馆，每天沿着同一条路步行二十分钟上下班，见到相似的街道和人群，下班后去固定的小餐馆吃kebab。尽管只待了几天，我却感到和这座城市之间建立了某种连接。回国后我和家属说，感觉这不是我第一次来柏林，我仿佛早已熟悉了它。这也让我意识到，正是“日常”让人和一座城市产生了真正的关系。
所以在蒙特利尔，我并没有开很多的地图，我想深度优先取代广度优先。每天早晨睡到自然醒，吃一顿饱饱的早餐，然后就自然而然地去学校逛一逛。
麦吉尔大学很美。
这是一座与城市连接得很紧密的学校。它就在皇家山脚下的一个斜面上，面朝这蒙特利尔城市的高楼大厦。校园里每一栋建筑看上去都很古朴典雅，而每一栋建筑的内部都经过精心设计，校园的公共空间也同样充满巧思。每到天气晴朗的午后，校园里总有三三两两的年轻人坐在草地或长椅上，有的对着电脑，有的安静地读书，宁静得像一幅画。
虽然我说蒙特利尔不像任何一座城市，但这里与北美的共性依然明显，那就是不论是美国还是加拿大，都是移民国家，他们的历史很苍白。苍白到我对北美的人文建筑比如广场、公园、教堂都没有太大兴趣。加拿大1867年才正式建国，在建国之前，这里是英国的一个省。本来法国人率先在这里殖民。1763年，法国因多年战争战败，将这片殖民地割让给英国，这里成了英国的一个省。不管是英国还是法国本土，他们的很多建筑都是历史性事件的发生地。而加拿大，这里的城市从来没有成为过历史舞台的中心。所以说实话，我对加拿大的人文历史并不感兴趣。
蒙特利尔与欧洲的共性也还是很多的，这里城市里的房子有花园的很少，都是欧洲式的在街道两边排列整齐民居，有的还有欧洲的那种小阳台。这里满大街也都是vespa，这一点和欧洲一样。有一点比较特别的是，蒙特利尔的建筑壁画特别多，不是随意的涂鸦，而是颇具艺术感的作品，颇有点国内农村房屋壁画的感觉，只不过更洋气更艺术。
这几天我常会去麦吉尔大学的学生Lounge坐一坐，每次去，总有同学不经意地坐在钢琴前弹奏起旋律，非常优美。Lounge的环境非常好，伴着这些旋律，让人感叹这真是一所既好又有格调的学校。在这里的这段时光让我想起了11年前在美国内布拉斯加的那个夏天。我住在哥哥姐姐家，每天往返于社区与内布拉斯加大学林肯分校的图书馆之间。现在想想，那段看似无聊的日子却格外难忘。
蒙特利尔的音乐氛围还挺特别的。有一天晚上，我临时起意去了当地著名的爵士酒吧 Upstairs。蒙特利尔是全世界最著名的爵士乐城市之一，每年举办全球最大的爵士音乐节。城中遍布大大小小的爵士酒吧，我去的这家Upstairs，外表看很不起眼，但是当地最有名气的爵士乐酒吧之一。酒吧虽然里面面积不大，大家坐的都很近，但是很有氛围。当晚在酒吧演奏的乐队正是来自于麦吉尔大学，吉他手的硕士专业正是爵士乐表演专业。这只乐队非常多元化，键盘手来自美国，贝斯来自于巴西，鼓手来自于魁北克，而吉他手来自于哥伦比亚。
当晚有三场演出，我赶上了后面的两场。一共点了三杯啤酒，perona和ipa。这只乐队演出很专业，鼓手很出彩，演出过程中酒吧里的大部分人都把注意力放在演出上，大家都看的很尽兴。当晚的这段经历，让我不由想起皮克斯的动画片《心灵奇旅》（soul），主人公就是教爵士乐手，我喜欢爵士乐应该也是从这部电影开始。“Jazzing”不是一个正式的英文词汇，但电影里的22号灵魂因为不谙世事，发明了这个词汇。主人公最后借用了这个词汇，对22号说：“You are pretty good at Jazzing”。
Jazzing 在我看来就是爵士精神，它超出了爵士乐本身，是随性、即兴、享受当下的代名词。蒙特利尔之所以爵士乐盛行，我觉得也是与这座城市性格和爵士乐性格很搭的原因。蒙特利尔适合没有野心的人。它曾经在上世纪七十年代举办过奥运会，但也正因为此累计了巨额债务，从此城市一蹶不振，逐渐被多伦多超过。现在的蒙特利尔偏居在法语区，城市节奏悠闲，似乎处于怡然自得的状态。在工作日的下午，我穿过城市街道去买贝果，路过皇家山脚下的公园，满眼都是在草坪上享受阳光的人们。有的人打沙滩排球，有的人玩飞盘，更多的是三三两两坐在草坪上闲聊的说着法语的人们。经历过历史起伏，这座城市自洽地回归到了爵士精神。
那天晚上离开Upstairs后，已经是十点半了，我穿过街道走回酒店。接近午夜的蒙特利尔还是灯火通明，街道上人群很多，这是一座有夜生活的城市。穿过一个十字街道时，我扭头一看，惊讶地发现巨幅Leonard Cohen的壁画就在我面前。城市还特意为这面壁画做了灯光装置，让它夜里格外醒目。Cohen是麦吉尔大学的校友，也是蒙特利尔城市的骄傲。他在2016年去世，去世前还发行了最后一首歌，叫You want it darker，这是他写给世界的诀别信，歌曲的最后一句歌词是：I’m ready, my lord..
穿过Cohen壁画没多久，就来到了麦吉尔大学校园。这次我来蒙特利尔，就是为了参加麦吉尔大学的毕业典礼的。我在这里获得了管理学硕士的学位，这也是我自己的骄傲。虽然我未曾来到过这个校园，麦吉尔会把教授送到浙大给我们上课，但我仿佛对这个校园已然非常熟悉。虽然已经到了晚上11点，校园里面还是有不少的人。麦吉尔大学和蒙特利尔城市完全融合在一起，校园也是蒙特利尔城市景观的一部分，很美。
晚上的Arts Building还亮着灯，这个建筑是麦吉尔大学的地标性建筑。当天晚上天空晴朗，可以看到很多星星，而北斗七星就挂在校园的正上方。我抬起头看星星，两个中国留学生过来问我在看什么，我指给他们看北斗七星。他们也很惊喜地和我一起看，原来他们也不曾留意到北斗七星会在这个时节挂在校园的正上空。
后面有一天出去和同学聚餐，结束以后与在这里交换的同学一起走路回酒店，他们惊讶地问我：这真的是你第一次来麦吉尔吗？感觉你好像对这里已经很熟悉了。我觉得应该是吧，这篇文稿就是在麦吉尔大学的图书馆里完成的，窗外的蒙特利尔又开始下起了小雨，而远处的阳光还很灿烂，我好像不是第一次来到这里。
很开心在人生这个节点，来到了麦吉尔，收获了一个新的学位；但更让我开心的是，我遇见了蒙特利尔这座城市。她告诉我，生活，其实可以这样过。
Montreal Notes
May 30, 2025
My first impression of Montreal was that it reminded me of Manchester—perhaps because it had been raining nonstop for the first two days after I arrived.
But in truth, Montreal defies categorization; it doesn’t really resemble anywhere else. It doesn’t feel like North America—people here speak French and the city is exquisitely styled. It’s not quite France either—there’s no affected elegance here, just approachable, friendly people. Nor is it like Britain—the streets are wide and the population is ethnically diverse.
As I walked through McGill University listening to Leonard Cohen, and climbed up to the Mount Royal lookout to take in the city skyline, I was surprised by the view. The city is clean and orderly, with murals painted on many buildings and skyscrapers tightly clustered together. Waterways crisscross the land, and where there are no buildings, there is greenery.
On the third day after I arrived, the sun finally came out. But not long after I stepped outside, it began to rain again. Still, no one seemed in a rush; the people without umbrellas looked unbothered, as if they’d already grown used to the city’s ever-changing weather.
Montreal’s rain is beautiful—its rainy days are even more charming than its sunny ones. The wind carries down green maple leaves, followed by big, heavy raindrops. After the sun disappears, it suddenly turns cool, but not cold.
I haven’t spent too much time exploring Montreal. Most of these few days, I’ve just wandered back and forth between McGill and my hotel.
Part of the reason is that I’m simply exhausted. I was on a business trip in Berlin last week, returned to Hangzhou on Thursday, and flew to Montreal on Friday. In just two weeks, I’ve transited through Doha airport four times, and each trip has taken over 24 hours—a real endurance test.
Another reason is that I wanted to build a “daily rhythm” with this city and the university. Last Sunday in Berlin, I crammed a whole day full of city walking—visited three museums and the Brandenburg Gate. While I got the thrill of checking things off my list, I had little time to truly observe or feel anything. That’s why I’m not a fan of “speedrun” travel. The more I see, the more I realize that rushing around only leaves me with fleeting impressions.
During the final few days in Berlin, I stayed at a small inn near the company office. I commuted twenty minutes on foot each day along the same route, passing the same streets and faces, and after work, I would go to the same little kebab shop. Even though I was only there for a few days, I felt that I had formed a connection with the city. After returning home, I told my wife it felt like I hadn’t visited Berlin for the first time—I somehow already knew it. That made me realize it’s the “daily” routine that forges a real relationship between a person and a city.
So here in Montreal, I didn’t open the map too often. I chose depth over breadth. I let myself sleep in, have a full breakfast, and then naturally drift over to the university to wander around.
McGill is beautiful.
It’s a university deeply integrated with the city, nestled on a slope at the base of Mount Royal, facing the skyline of downtown Montreal. Every building on campus looks classically elegant on the outside, but is meticulously designed within. The public spaces are equally thoughtful. On sunny afternoons, students scatter across the grass and benches—some working on laptops, others quietly reading. It feels like a painting.
Although I said Montreal is unlike any other city, there are still some clear signs of North America here: both the U.S. and Canada are immigrant nations with relatively short histories. Because of that, I’m not particularly drawn to North American plazas, parks, or churches. Canada became a country in 1867, and before that it was a British province. The French were the first to colonize this land, but in 1763, after a long series of wars, they ceded the colony to Britain. Unlike in Britain or France where buildings often bear witness to historic events, Canadian cities have rarely been the stage for major historical dramas. To be honest, I’m not that interested in Canadian cultural history.
Still, there are many European touches in Montreal. Houses here rarely have gardens, and most homes line both sides of the street like in European cities, some even with little balconies. Scooters—especially Vespas—are everywhere, just like in Europe. One distinctive feature, though, is the abundance of murals—not random graffiti, but real works of art. It reminds me of the mural art on houses in Chinese villages, except more artistic and stylish.
Most days, I spend some time sitting in McGill’s student lounge. There’s always someone casually playing the piano—soft, beautiful melodies. The lounge is lovely, and with the music, it really makes me feel like this is a top-tier school with a special vibe. These moments reminded me of the summer I spent in Nebraska 11 years ago, living with my cousins and going back and forth between the community and the University of Nebraska-Lincoln library. It was a seemingly boring time, yet now it feels incredibly memorable.
Montreal has a unique musical spirit. One evening, on a whim, I went to Upstairs, a well-known jazz bar in town. Montreal is one of the most iconic jazz cities in the world and hosts the largest jazz festival each year. The city is filled with jazz venues—Upstairs looks unassuming from the outside but is among the most famous. Inside, it’s intimate and atmospheric. That night’s band was from McGill. The guitarist is pursuing a master’s in jazz performance. The group was wonderfully diverse—keyboardist from the U.S., bassist from Brazil, drummer from Quebec, and guitarist from Colombia.
There were three sets that night. I caught the last two and ordered three beers: Peroni and IPA. The band was top-notch, especially the drummer. The audience was fully immersed in the performance, and the whole bar was fixated on the stage. It reminded me of Pixar’s film Soul. The protagonist is a jazz musician, and I think that’s where my love for jazz began. In the film, the innocent soul 22 invents the word “jazzing” to describe playing jazz. The main character later borrows the word to say, “You’re pretty good at jazzing.”
To me, jazzing captures the spirit of jazz—it goes beyond music. It’s about spontaneity, improvisation, and savoring the moment. Montreal and jazz go hand in hand because the city shares that spirit. It’s not a place for the overly ambitious. After hosting the Olympics in the 1970s and falling into massive debt, the city declined, eventually overshadowed by Toronto. Today, tucked in the Francophone part of Canada, Montreal moves at a laid-back pace. One weekday afternoon, I walked through the city to buy bagels, passed Mount Royal Park, and saw people lounging in the sun—playing beach volleyball, tossing frisbees, or chatting in small groups on the grass. After its historical ups and downs, the city seems to have settled into its jazz spirit.
After leaving Upstairs, it was already 10:30 PM. I walked back to my hotel through the lively streets. Nearing midnight, Montreal was still brightly lit and bustling with people—a city that truly lives at night. At one intersection, I turned my head and was stunned to see a giant mural of Leonard Cohen before me. The city had installed lighting to highlight the mural at night. Cohen was a McGill alumnus and a source of pride for Montreal. Before his death in 2016, he released his final song, You Want It Darker—a farewell to the world. The last line: “I’m ready, my lord.”
Not long after passing the Cohen mural, I reached the McGill campus. This time I came to Montreal to attend McGill’s graduation ceremony. I earned my Master of Management degree here, and it’s something I’m proud of. Though I had never physically been to the campus before, McGill professors came to Zhejiang University to teach us. Yet somehow, I already felt familiar with this place. Even at 11 PM, the campus was still lively. McGill is intertwined with the city, part of its very fabric—and it’s beautiful.
The lights were still on in the Arts Building, a landmark of McGill. The sky was clear that night, and stars filled the sky. The Big Dipper hung directly overhead. As I gazed up, two Chinese students approached and asked what I was looking at. I pointed out the Big Dipper. They were delighted—they hadn’t noticed it before.
One day after a dinner gathering, I walked back to the hotel with some exchange students. They asked in surprise, “Is this really your first time at McGill? You seem like you know it so well.” I suppose so. I’m finishing this piece in McGill’s library, as light rain begins to fall outside. In the distance, the sun still shines brightly. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like this is my first time here.
I’m grateful to have come to McGill at this point in my life and to have earned a new degree. But what brings me even more joy is discovering the city of Montreal. She’s taught me that life—life can be lived like this.
