I think I’m scream­ing pretty loudly, but I can’t hear my­self over the roar­ing en­gine

Marie Claire (South Africa) - - TRAVEL -

of restau­rants per head of pop­u­la­tion in North Amer­ica after New York, and some, if you go off the beaten track, are even com­pa­ra­ble. It’s not all smoked meat, bagels and pou­tine (a French-Cana­dian spe­cial­ity of chips and cheese cov­ered in gravy) ei­ther, as we nd when we stum­ble across Grumman ’ 8, a su­per-hip ta­cos res­tau­rant in a dis­tressed but stylish ware­house full of guys sport­ing beards (which are both prac­ti­cal and cool). If you love the chic café cul­ture of France, you’ll feel at home, and there’s no lan­guage bar­rier here. In the sum­mer, street-food vans set up in the Olympic Sta­dium, and Canada’s cul­tural cap­i­tal comes alive with all kinds of dance and fringe fes­ti­vals. But while I’ve heard great things about that time, for me, Mon­tréal in win­ter takes some beat­ing. Fair­mont The Queen El­iz­a­beth ho­tel, where John Len­non and Yoko Ono held one of their two bed-ins in 1969, is well placed for ex­plor­ing the bou­tiques of the vast Un­der­ground City com­plex, where you barely need to step a foot out­side in the chill air. Un­less, of course, you want to go snow tub­ing down Mount Royal or ice skat­ing at Beaver Lake.But that’s been quite enough win­ter ad­ven­tures for me – un­til next year.

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