I so love this city, in spite of the moaning I do about its drivers. I love that someone can just come up to you and you really don't care what language you speak in; it doesn't matter to either of you and there's never a fuss.
I go to Pharmaprix to get my prescription and we start in French. Then I find something a little too annoying to have to remember in French so I switch to English. Not a blink. Now we're in English. Then we finish up in French. Who cares: bank guys, convenience-store people, taxi drivers . . . it doesn't seem to matter where they come from (another good thing about Montreal) . . . we all have this weird ability to shift Worldviews in one sentence. Where else, except Belgium, does that happen? Besides, the Wallons hate the Flamands.
It's just so casual, you don't even realise it half the time. It's a surreal culture, but it works. I know people (well, my wife is among them) who sound totally different when they speak French -- like, hey, instant actors! Because they're just so good, and then they switch back to English like it was just a minor brain-glitch.
Yes, even in the slush of the new year, I love my Montreal.
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