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  • I find cities hard to love — too in your face, too much to take in, too many people imposing on my personal space. Our first visit to Montreal coincided with the grand prix and student protests. We stayed in a place that had previously been a nun’s residence, a huge rambling old building in the middle of town. It had an other world feel and evoked the stories of the place. I felt at times that the nuns were still there, especially late at night.

    Then we stepped outside to downtown Montreal with homeless people, fashionable shops, cafes, Syrian protesters, student protestors, grand prix revelers, fancy cars, families, and voices from around the world. At night the city pulsed with the rythms of voices, traffic, music and the beating of pans. The student protest passed us by, many were almost naked, one shook hands with us as he protested by in his underpants. They were closely followed by fully dressed police in their riot gear.

    I find them hard to love but there is something about cities.
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