15 December 2016
Winter layers
This cutoff date is obviously way too late, as was vividly illustrated by an absurd car pile-up right outside my office last week, which garnered over 20M views globally and made Montréal a laughing stock for winter preparedness.
But I understand. These are all symptoms of the same condition. Every year, at the beginning of yet another long, dark and cold winter, Montréalers practice themselves in denial. With a combination of wishful thinking and stubborn steeliness, the signs of the season are ignored. When falling temperatures finally put paid to dresses and shorts, we surrender in stages.
The first one is easy: That fall jacket may have spent all summer hanging in the wardrobe, and the airy silk scarf is a fashion statement more than anything. A Stetson hat serves but to protect against fall showers.
Soon, the silk makes way for a cotton scarf, and some leather gloves protect against morning chills. But we'll just slip on a vest under the jacket, and walk a bit more briskly.
It is the first layer of frost that makes the sidewalks slippery, and forces us to upgrade from brogues to the better grip of a trekking shoe. At the same time, with a sigh, the wool coat makes its appearance, and the ears are tucked behind a headband.
In mild years, such as 2015, this stage can last until Christmas. But normally, it doesn't. Every time, though, it takes a few really cold days where Montréalers suffer cold hands, numb toes and - swoosh - sore bums, before the inevitable is acknowledged: Amidst vocal lament, the ski jackets are brought down from the attic, the snow boots are placed on the door-mat by the shovel, and the wool scarf and tuque are reluctantly donned. Fully winterized, we traipse through the glacial city, surrendering to the fact that Jack Frost has once again begun his seasonal reign.
Today is December 15. It is the Day of Reckoning.
Labels: culture, Montreal, weather
# posted by Oli : 21:59
15 February 2016
Vortex
Since Friday, temperatures have been dropping to around -25C, and with gusty winds the perceived temperature fell to -40C on Saturday. When people talk of a personal low, that's not usually what they mean. I, though, have lived through this new low.
While cold days in Québec winter are not news to the readers of this blog, a fresh experience can now be added to the warming yarn of vortex survivors: While walking against the wind on Saturday, the water from my eyes froze around my eyelashes, making it almost impossible to keep them open. It was, per se, a rather fascinating phenomenon to experience, although heresay would have been good enough. At least I now understand why some people wear ski goggles when walking their dogs in the vortex. The dogs, in turn, are dressed in no less silly looking coats and boots.
Proper gear, then, is the key to survival in these conditions, when even major cities see temperatures usually reserved for the Arctic. Those Canada Goose jackets, so frequently found in the tropical heat of St. Moritz and Vail, find their true calling here.
Nonetheless, even hardy Canadians can only take so much punishment. On Monday, talk around the office
So why was I still out there, frozen eyelashes and all? The polar vortex had perturbed my weekend plans as well. Snowshoeing in the countryside was put off in favor of another indulgent winter activity, whose main component needed to be picked up at Atwater market's fromagerie. This weeked, instead of raquette, I enjoyed raclette!
# posted by Oli : 22:50
13 January 2015
Going underground
I'd inevitably tell my visitors to lower their expectations - pun intended. Yes, there were a few below-ground walkways here and there, stuffed with second-rate shops and food outlets. But I was always unimpressed by the network's utility, never mind value as a tourist attraction. So when our offices moved to a new building connected to the réseau souterrain, I barely paid any attention.
I should have. On a lunchtime outing a few days ago, I had just arrived at the grocery store a few blocks down from the office and was busy unwrapping the layers protecting me from the -20C cold outside, when a co-worker emerged from the snacks aisle. To my surprise, she was wearing office slippers and a casual cardigan, attire clearly unsuitable to keep her Mexican body comfortable outside.
Turns out she had not been in the open at all. Instead, she had made use of the underground network to come all the way from our office to the store. I was fascinated as she guided me back the way she came, along a convoluted succession of over- and underpasses, up and down 8 flights of stairs, through revolving doors and up elevators... to reemerge by my desk.
A closer look at the underground map was in order, and it became apparent from it that there were a series of connecting passages of which I had not been aware - and which connect multiple sections of the grid into one continuous network, thereby greatly improving utility.
Today at lunchtime, your urban boyscout set off in the opposite direction, looking smug in his dress shirt and loafers while the colleagues in the elevator were bundling up to face the elements outside. And sure enough, I found yet another passage (counter-intuitively leading up above ground level and through an encased alley) connecting my office to a neighboring section, from there down again, up through the exhibition center and across to the main train station, my destination for today.
I had not been doing the Montréal underground movement justice, then. With the newly-found links, I have dry-foot access to six metro stations on two lines, various malls, food courts... and even the two YMCAs I regularly use. It may not be the most direct way of getting there, but on arctic winter days like today, the indoor walk is the perfect warm-up!
Labels: Montreal, weather, work
# posted by Oli : 20:19
28 January 2014
Chill out
That rule may be scientifically inaccurate, and "not cold" is certainly an impression open to debate. But if you find yourself living in Québec this winter, then "cold" refers to days with the mercury around -24C, and a wind chill factor that removes another ten degrees from that. So when a snowy day raises temperatures to a mild -6C for a while, you too will start to appreciate the shovelling duty as a welcome side-effect of a hot spell.
A week or two of arctic lows are not unusual for Montréal in January, and this journal has reported on them and the associated rituals before. What makes this winter worse was not only the early onset of the deep-freeze conditions in the first half of December, but also their persistence ever since.
I made it out of the Great White North just before a mighty "Polar Vortex" took a hold of much of the American Northeast at Christmas, and when my plane descended into Montréal again after the New Year, I was amazed to see the St. Laurence river and its shipping canal frozen solid - something the strong currents and fleet of icebreakers typically prevent.
Of course, while the Vortex brought much of the U.S. to a stand-still and forced Toronto's Pearson Airport to close, Montréal is much better equipped to handle such events. Hydro-Québec sets its electricity output to max, citizens crank up their cheap baseboard heaters, and everybody stays indoors. The fabulously warm Hudson's Bay Blanket that I found under the Christmas Tree didn't arrive a minute too soon.
Unfortunately, I can't just cuddle up and wait for spring to arrive. The office calls, and if it doesn't snow, the five minute walk to the metro becomes just ridiculously cold. The uninitiated fail to grasp precisely how cold -32C is. As you step outside, it is as if the air had gone. Your lungs are in shock and refuse to breathe for a moment. You set out, and before you've made it to the corner of your street, the cold has infiltrated however many layers you are wearing, and is now creeping down your back. You try not to slip on the layer of fresh slush, which sits atop a glacier-like base of solid ice, formed from past freeze-melt-freeze cycles.
By the time you made it to the first traffic light, you can feel how your metal watch case has cooled down so much under your glove that it now starts chilling your wrist. Your nose goes numb, which at least stops it from running. You protect your face by holding your mittens in front of it, and yet by the time you reach the sanctuary of the subway, you can wipe mini ice flakes from your lips. Your cheeks are so rosy they'd glow in the dark.
I am not exaggerating. And while the odd day like this can be a fun experience (in a dip-into-the-cold-after-sauna kind of way), week after week of it starts wearing me down. Unlike in Switzerland, winter doesn't really take breaks here. When the first snow falls in late November, it stays on the ground until April.
"We had a 55 degree temperature difference", said my colleague who spent a few days in Florida, where her in-laws were horrified to notice that Canadian conditions made the Celsius and Farenheit scales converge. Not in my hottest dreams would I dare asking for a trip to Florida. No, I'd be perfectly happy with a chance to chill out for a few hours in the balmy confines of my grocery store's walk-in beer freezer. It's set to +2C.
Labels: Montreal, Quebec, weather
# posted by Oli : 22:33
21 September 2013
Siegerrebe
She was correct, of course. And she had piqued my curiosity, for as a wine amateur, I'd never heard of this grape varietal before. In the event, Siegerrebe turned out to be a pleasant white similar to Gewürztraminer (another one of these Germans!), and it made for just one of many pleasant surprises.
For this episode is still set in Canada, due west from where the last post had left off. After climbing the peaks of the Rockies, we'd continued towards the setting sun, and towards a region in British Columbia's interior that I had heard many good things about. Notably that the Okanagan Valley has some of the mildest climate in the country, and consequently does not feel very Canadian at all.
If Alberta's mountains had reminded us of the alps, the wide open valleys, shining lakes flanked by vineyards, majestic chestnut trees and fragrant lavender bushes now made us think of Ticino, or possibly the shores of Lake Geneva. Even more so than the Maritimes, this facet of Canada defies common stereotypes.
In the best of ways, of course. We headed out from Kelowna, a pretty yoga-and-granola city with endless sandy beaches, and tasted our way through the various vineyards in the vicinity. Over the past few decades, the trend to produce high-quality wines in the Pacific Northwest has taken a firm hold of the area, and while the Okanagan's yields are still too low for its wines to be widely available outside the province, both the reds and the whites we sampled were of very respectable quality. Much to our enjoyment, some of the wineries had not just built tasting rooms, but small gourmet restaurants as well.
Settling in for dinner in one of them, overlooking Lake Okanagan and discussing how much it resembled the Lavaux, it only seemed natural that the maître d' greeted us - in Swiss German. She'd arrived many years ago, and agreed with us that this was a very livable place.
By the time we jumped into the lake's clear waters the next morning, just like we used as teenagers on our discovery trips across Switzerland, I'd firmly fallen in love with the area. Only half jokingly, we started to evaluate the cottages and houses along the shore for their suitability as holiday homes.
That particular plan may have to age for a few more years. The bottle of Siegerrebe, however, is now in my fridge here in Montréal. And if things go to plan, I'll have an occasion to treat myself to the victory vine tomorrow. Cheers!
Labels: Canada, travel, weather
# posted by Oli : 15:54
08 May 2013
Spring forward
Clearly, spring does not happen in Montréal. Over the course of just two weeks, temperatures went from just above freezing to just below 30, where they have since remained. And nature has simply exploded: When a bit of food poisoning recently forced me to snooze a day away in bed, I could actually see how the blossoms on the tree outside my bedroom window had grown larger since I last woke up. (And no, I was not taking any mind-altering substances.)
Now, everything is in full bloom, the grass is green, and clouds of pollen visibly waft through the streets as I bixi to work. All the flowers are out, which made for a particularly beautiful trip to Canada's capital this weekend. In recognition of the refuge the Canadians had provided to the Dutch royal family during the second world war, Ottawa receives tons of tulip bulbs from the Netherlands every year, which the ever-so-diligent gardeners arrange into countless pretty flower beds all around the city. This makes for spectacular festival, and under glorious sunny skies helped us shake off the last bits of winter blues.
It does not cease to amaze me just how quickly this part of the world springs forward into a summery climate. But having lived through another Canadian winter, and a rather harsh one at that, I also catch myself displaying exactly the kind of exuberant sun worship that I have mocked the Montréalais for just a few years ago. Yet here I am: Throwing on my shorts, getting on a Bixi, having a picnic in the park and dinner on the terrasse. Whether it's because we don't quite trust the warm weather just yet, or simply because we know that snow will be back before we like it, we're all soaking up the sun to the max.
The mercury will continue its upwards trend, and soon the tropical heat will settle in. But this summer, I'll take it in stride - I'll install my air conditioner on Saturday.
# posted by Oli : 21:32
25 January 2011
Fire & Ice
So in my last post I wrote about how to stay warm in Canadian winter. And as if to put my advice to the test, the temperatures kept dropping and reached a rather chilly -32C on Monday morning. If, like me, you find it hard to comprehend just how cold that is, and, unlike me, do not have to find out by walking to the bus stop, here's another way to get the sensation:
This über-cool Montréalais, on a balcony just like mine, this Monday, decided to turn boiling water intowine ice - instantly.
This über-cool Montréalais, on a balcony just like mine, this Monday, decided to turn boiling water into
Labels: weather
# posted by Oli : 22:27
21 January 2011
Tuque
Fashion stops at freezing point. Or so it appears these days, with Montréal presenting itself in its winterly cover of snow, sleet and slush. Waking up to a clear and sunny winter's day this morning, a glance at the outside thermometer indicated a balmy temperature of -19C, which served as a strong incentive to bring out that thick down jacket, the thermal underwear and ski gloves. Once properly mummified, I stepped outside and immediately felt the cold arctic breeze in my face. The wind chill factor made the temperature feel like a cozy -27C, according to MetéoMédia.These conditions are not unusual, and the locals have learned to live with them. They have also come up with some very sophisticated gear to cope with the cold, including brands such as Bula, Kanuk, Arc'teryx and Canada Goose (a parka of which is now worn around a certain Swiss mountain resort...). The winter equipment produced by those specialists is excellent, but it does make you look a bit like Michelin Man.
But by common consensus, even the fashion-conscious Montréalais are ready to abandon good looks in favor of staying warm during the winter months. People routinely arrive at work with heavy winter boots before changing into moccasin house shoes, and I can even get away with wearning pants that have slush stains up their lower back - the unmistakable proof that I have braved the cold and walked to the métro.
If there is one thing, though, that makes Canadian winter dress unmistakable, it has got to be the tuque. Its very name is a compromise between French and English (no separatism with cold ears), and its fur-clad interior protects Canucks from snow, while its extendable ear and forehead flaps keep the entire face warm. NZZ Folio may claim that Finnish and Soviet soldiers first came up with the idea, but surely must have been the Canadians who have civilized and immortalized the item. Practical, unpretentious and warm, it perfectly resonates with their national identity - and climate!
High time, then, that I'll go under cover, for I intend to spend large parts of next weekend out in the cold. And while I am looking for a tuque, you can look for how many different types of headgear you'll find in this little clip of a typical Canadian winter activity. Stay warm!
# posted by Oli : 23:03
08 September 2010
Balcony
"It's like rain on your wedding day, it's a free ride when you've already paid...", go the lyrics of Ironic, the song by Canadian singer Alanis Morissette. And indeed, it was ironic that the day my new balcony was finally done, summer had ended.The day also marked the end of a long and somewhat tedious affair. Back when I first visited my future apartment, I noted the poor state and stability of the old wooden structure that went for a balcony. From it, a spiral staircase led down towards the back yard, and if its daunting overhang did not instill vertigo, then the view of the rusty bolts loosely dangling from the brittle wood of the balcony floor surely sent shivers down any spine. Seeing panic flicker in my eyes, the landlord quickly reassured me that he had planned to completely renovate the balcony, and would do so very soon. I took his word for it, signed the lease and moved into the place in the middle of last summer.
By the time I'd gotten my place clean and furnished, summer had already passed and I had never even considered using my balcony. But while looking out over it onto the maple leaves slowly changing color, I made a mental note to purchase deck chairs in spring, so that I could take full advantage of my vantage point in 2010. By then, I reckoned, the balcony surely would be brand spanking new.
Fast forward through snow and ice, and here I was marvelling at the first blossoms on my maple trees. In the foreground, of course, was still the same old and wobbly deck, further weakened by another winter and covered in dirt and wood chippings. I'd spoken to my landlord again, who had come to inspect the entire installation with an expert. Much to his (and my) chagrin, it was determined that the entire, three-storey wooden framework supporting all balconies of the building, was just as unstable as the actual decks and that everything needed to be replaced. Great! And just as I returned from Ikea, with two deck chairs ready to be unpacked and assembled, I got the word that the building insurance company had now officially forbidden the use of balcony or fire stairs in their current state. For a moment there, I was envisioning myself escaping from a raging fire coming up through the front staircase, only to fall to death while descending in the back... I comforted myself with the knowledge that unlike the wooden balconies, the building itself was old enough to be build from solid brick and thus very unlikely to cath on anytime soon.
The renovation project had now gotten much bigger than expected, and the associated price tag probably curbed my landlord's enthusism quite a bit. Nothing much seemed to happen while the days got longer and warmer, and the repeated prodding from my side elicited little response. Eventually, I learned that a construction permit was pending with the city. Of course, the fonctionnaire in question was out of office for his summer holiday - HE probably had his balcony to relax on.
And then, early one Monday morning not long ago, I heard someone knocking, just as I was stepping out of the shower. Clad in a towel, I opened the door - but there was nobody there. More knocking followed, and I finally turned around to see a slightly bemused construction worker standing outside my balcony door, looking at a confused guy with a towel around his waist. With his colleagues, he was about to start demolishing my old balcony and was wondering why I had not cleared away all the (previous tenant's) junk on it. Never mind that I was unaware of the impending start of construction, and not allowed to step outside anyway.
So things were finally moving, and during yet another hot and sunny week, the guys were hard at work outside my bedroom window, completely rebuilding my balcony with new woodwork and properly reattaching the fire stairs. The following week, a new aluminium ceiling cover was mounted, and things definitely started looking up - just as days got shorter. Just before this Monday's Labour Day, inofficially considered the end of summer, the landlord resurfaced, carrying a bucket of protective paint to coat the wooden panels. At last, he boasted, my all-new balcony was ready for me. All I needed to do was waiting another 24 hours for the paint to dry, and then it would be all mine. I was given the go-ahead to get my deck chairs out.
How exciting! Except that minutes after the paint job was finished, a thunderstorm rolled in, the temperature dropped from 30 to 15 degrees, and the first leaves started falling from the trees. That much for summer. Isn't it ironic...
# posted by Oli : 18:23
05 May 2010
Climate change
Remember my last post? I wrote it last Tuesday, while there was snow on the ground, and an icy wind blew through the city. Yesterday, I bought a big fan to cool down my apartment.Yes, the climate change over the last few days has been quite dramatic. The snow went as quickly as it came, and revealed nature in full bloom. Suddenly, the evenings are long, the trees are green and the grass is growing (never mind the lawn mowers adding their soundtrack to that of crickets and chirping birds). Dandelions push through the cracks (of which there are many) in the sidewalk, and the squirrels happily munch on my garbage bags. Oh, wait, they do this all year round...
Local friends have told me that Montréalers, much like Scandinavians, are particularly enthused by these wonderful days of spring, as they usually come after a long and joyless winter. Initially, I thought of this as a hopeless overstatement, but now I can vouch for it to be true. Strolling down Rue Ste-Catherine last Saturday afternoon, drifting along in this current of springtime emotions, I was still coherent enough to notice lots of students proudly parading their summer shorts and skirts for the first time - never mind the drizzle, it's time now!
The next day, stepping out of my apartment mid-morning, it hit me like a wall: The drizzle had gone, but the humidity had certainly stayed and, along with the radiant sunshine, created a climate more appropriate for a mediterranean summer's day. Down by the Canal Lachine, people were laying in the grass, having picnics and taking the pedalos on their maiden voyage. With every sudatory step, with every breath we sucked up this intoxicating scent of summer.
Good thing I'd gotten ready. Recent acquisitions include not just said fan to alleviate some of the pain when, in the coming months, the nights will be tropical again. I've also gotten hold of two balcony chairs and eagerly await the balcony to be renovated this month. And this Saturday, it's the beginning of the pre-season at the wondeful (and heated, this is Canada after all) 50m outdoor pool. Season tickets, anyone? I'm walking on sunshine...
Labels: weather
# posted by Oli : 20:10
14 January 2010
Freezing point
So here we are in the middle of January, supposedly the coldest month of the year. According to statistics, Montreal's average daily temperature in January is -8.9C, with an average daily minimum of -12.4C. In a typical January, temperatures stay below freezing on 23.2 days and a nearly half a meter of snow falls.
This is well documented, so I was prepared for the worst. After a record-breakingly mild November and a tolerable December, I returned to Canada with woolen turtlenecks and down-filled jackets, then snagged gloves and a tuque on sale. Last Sunday, grey and windy, offered the opportunity to put my gear to the test, and I went for a walk on Mt. Royal. Getting ready felt a bit like Neil Armstrong preparing to step outside his lunar lander, but much like in his case, the equipment did not fail me. As I made my way across the snowy landscape, I noticed how much the park had changed since my last visit in fall: It now felt like a winter resort, complete with cross-country ski tracks, ice rinks, tobogganing hills and snowshoeing trails, all heavily used.
Clearly, Canadians are not easily deterred by icy conditions, and I even saw several joggers inhaling the cold air while doing their laps (today, a co-worker proudly told me about his nightly 5km run, which he only skips when it drops below -20C). As for my equipment, it performed admirably, but a slight oversight on my part meant that an express order of woolen long unterwear was dispatched the same night. And when my mobile phone rang, its battery ran empty in the same short while it took my fingers to nearly freeze stiff!
While the cold is everything I expected it to be, what really takes me by surprise are the frequent and unpredictable hot spills. Or, as the radio host puts it, "today temperatures rise to a balmy 2 below". From my bedroom window, of course, this still looks and feels exactly the same as the -15C the night before, and so I occasionally find myself stepping outside, well, overdressed!
# posted by Oli : 21:24
01 December 2009
Advent
And then, suddenly, it was December. After a mildly crazy November, with three trips to the U.S. and two friends visiting on weekends, I woke up this morning to the first day of the last month. When I opened the blinds, bleary-eyed still, and looked out over my balcony, there they were: Snowflakes dancing in the sky, gently swaying in the morning breeze on the way to the ground. After an apparently record-braking November without snow, the timing was absolutely perfect to dress the cityscape in a festive little white coat.The instant Christmas-ification did not stop there. Various Christmas lights and decorations, some of distinctively North American colorfulness, went on around my neighborhood at dusk, and a supersized Tangerine-hued Christmas tree now adorns the lobby of our office (along with thick carpets to absorb the slush carried in from the street, but that's another story). The playlists on local radio and in stores have undergone a dramatic change, and I am still debating whether to love or to hate the fact that the inevitable Last Christmas seems to be just as popular here as it is in Europe.
When I dragged my visitor through downtown shops on the weekend, hunting for these authentic / unusual / charming / inexpensive! gifts to bring to Switzerland, I still did so in a strictly functional "lets-get-it-done" mood, vowing to do even more shopping on the web next time. But today, everything has changed: I have officially entered the 24 days of Christmas, touched my first Canadian snow, put the infamous Xmas is Olimade compilation on the home stereo, and set up my Christmas decoration (very zen, of course). The theme will continue with the corporate
# posted by Oli : 22:24
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