This article was originally posted by Meredith Blakeway of S.O.F.T and was republished with permission.
I finally arrived in Montreal after a four-hour train trip from Toronto, one of many fans from around the world who come to Montreal to pay homage to iconic musician, Leonard Cohen.
My fellow passengers were part of a wedding party who felt I and every other passenger on board needed to know the details of their lives and wedding plans. I ended up moving into economy to get away from the noise, which really miffed me because I had paid a huge amount to get the last business-class seat on the train – and ended up sitting backwards in economy, but at least economy was quiet. The hoi polloi did not talk.
The taxi drivers and Uber drivers have no idea about Montreal and it was pure luck that I landed in the right hotel. I had changed hotel at the last minute as the one I had booked proved to be out in the sticks and not downtown. None of the drivers had heard of Leonard Cohen – despite the fact that he is Montreal’s most famous son and has a huge mural hanging downtown – but that’s probably because they were mostly born overseas.
We breezed through Westmount, the very affluent and leafy suburb where ‘Laughing Lenny’ grew up. We were accosted by a large group of drunken youths who claimed the Uber as their own, but they soon dissipated into the bushes; not before ruining my photo shoot of Leonard’s childhood home. After a lot of confusion we arrived at the cemetery with the taxi driver wondering why this crazy tourist wanted to visit a Jewish cemetery.
The Congregation Shaar Hashomayim cemetery in Montreal is the final resting place of legendary singer, songwriter, poet and novelist, Leonard Cohen. His grave is located with three generations of his family.
Since his death in 2016, a steady stream of visitors have made their way to Cohen’s gravesite to pay their respects. His headstone has an overflowing mound of stones on top. I placed my stone – taken from the beach in Australia – precariously above the hundreds already there. The placing of the stones is an ancient Jewish tradition. Flowers are not left, but I did notice some dead pot plants and a biro (perhaps to help him with another song?).
After my commune with Leonard Cohen, I foolishly caught another Uber to the murals with a driver who had no idea where we were going. That was fun. I’d discovered the murals were in Crescent Street, but the driver had never heard of it.
When I finally arrived, I asked where the cafe Artisanale was, as it was said to have the best view of the mural. Of course, no one had heard of it. Undeterred, I found it across the street (it’s at 1471 Crescent Street, if you’re ever in Montreal) and it surely did have a great view! There was lots happening in the street; everyone seemed oblivious to the great man beaming down on us from above.
After a forgettable meal (the price to pay for a good photo position, I guess), I was shocked to discover my Australia Post sim had run out of credit again. I think a local sim is a better option.
I headed towards Leonard Cohen’s house near Parc du Portugal to leave tea and oranges: Cohen purchased the property on Vaillières Street, facing the park, in the 1970s. (It’s a very bohemian part of town.) He makes reference to the park in one of his songs, and after he died Parc du Portugal became a makeshift memorial by his followers.