I recently rolled into Montreal for the first time, smack amidst a huge and blinding snowstorm. (Or, as this eastern Canadian city might simply call it: “Winter.”)
I’d booked a room at the InterContinental Montreal, and fully intended to put my suitcase down, splash a little water on my face, and head out to explore.
What I did instead was to indulge in a beautiful, relaxing and cozy stay, while outside, the city was steadily buried in a blanket of white.
I’d long wanted to visit Montreal, but had envisioned a Spring trip – something akin to April in Canadian Paris. My parents honeymooned here in September 1967, during the World’s Fair, and remember riverside sunsets and fluffy green trees beside sidewalk cafés.
Ah, but then there’s early February.
I’d come to Quebec to spend exciting and largely outdoor days in Québec City for Winter Carnival and the Ice Hotel, but booking with airline miles required a Montreal departure. My one-night stay at the InterContinental Montreal was inspired by brand loyalty and a good location near the entrance to the old city, but the hotel was kind enough to offer a great rate and a Club Level upgrade.
My friend Mike and I arrived from Québec City by car (a 2½ hour drive past dull scenery and a few Tim Hortons), and soon discovered that the hotel parking lot is as deep as a skyscraper is tall. The IC is connected to Montreal’s unique underground city, which means that in wintry weather, you can just wander in and find all sorts of centrally-heated amusement.
Lobby at the InterContinental Montreal
By the time we’d strolled past the soaring mall interior and into the IC’s glamorous gold-black-and-red lobby, we were already wondering if maybe it would be okay to just…stay put. A few minutes later, as I stared agog at my huge Club Room with its plush King bed, white leather bench, big comfy armchair, marble-paved bathroom, gynormous flat-screen and 22nd-floor view over the snow-obscured city, it was pretty much a done deal: outdoor Montreal would simply have to wait for another season.
My Club level room with a (fabulous) king bed
You know how it’s fantastic to come home from a trip to finally sleep in your own bed? Well, the cushy beds here, with their soft, warm sheets, are more like the bed you wish you had at home. I wasted no time donning the in-room robe (who doesn’t love an in-room robe?), making myself a cup of tea, and wriggling under the covers for a little French-Canadian-TV-induced nap while waaaaaaay outside, the flakes turned to swirls of a cloudy haze.
The view of Montreal outside my 22nd-floor window, before and after a nap
The front desk staff had used words like “complimentary,” “cocktails” and “snacks” together in a sentence, so we reconvened a couple of hours later in the private Club Lounge. Local cheeses, bread, olives and some fine wines (dispensed by a fantastic, high-tech series of by-the-glass stations) allowed us to celebrate our warmth and good fortune. Around us, a few business-folk and a pair of well-heeled couples whiled away the early evening in a quiet, grown-up space. Y’know, one that just happens to serve Quebécois beer by the bottle.
The main room in the Club Lounge
We then wandered off into the bowels of the surrounding underground city, checking out Euro fashions, cafès and a long, swanky fountain. The lighting was low and soothing, and sheets of heavy snow slid off the glass roof far above. Rumor is, you could keep walking here for miles.
Just a bit of Montreal's underground city
Returning to the lobby, we investigated the InterContinental’s restaurant, Osco, which serves hearty Provençal cuisine in a glowy dining room with a swoon-worthy glass cube/room stocked with a stunning selection of global wines. When I saw bouillabaisse on the menu – my favorite dish – I considered dinner despite my complete lack of hunger, but opted out in the end. (I can only blame the Club Lounge…and four days in Québec City, where food = pie.)
Instead, our evening was spent next door at Sarah B., the hotel’s resident absinthe bar; here, you’re promised both the green fairy and “sexytude.” What I saw was a cozy, colorful hotel bar I’d haunt even if I was a local. Its intimate L-shaped space draws a 35-to-50-something crowd, and couples can canoodle behind closed drapes in private alcoves.
The hotel's absinthe and cocktail bar, Sarah B.
The friendly French-Canadian bartender is generous with both her time and her pours: when she overheard me say that despite my love for the Art Nouveau era, I’d never tried absinthe, two shots appeared before us like (green, harsh, anise-flavored) magic. For the record, I did feel a spreading warmth in my head, but no green fairy was seen.
Sit here long enough with a fancy cocktail and you might just regain an interest in food; if so, you can order some tapas or a small bistro meal. The cod fritters? Lightly salted brilliance.
That night, I’d sleep nine peaceful, warm, uninterrupted hours and awaken to yet more snow. In a flash of inspiration I visited the fitness center (you know, to photograph it), where I discovered that you can baste in a steam room, toast in a sauna and swim in a heated indoor pool while outside, winter gathers in ever deeper drifts.
Pool with a (wintry) view at the hotel's fitness center
Down at the Club Lounge for breakfast, I got to try the one thing I wanted most from the city: a Montreal-style white-seed bagel. Thin, almost sweet and perfectly chewy, it tasted all the better for being already indoors, in front of me. I may not have made it to the Musée des Beaux-Arts Montréal that morning, but a bagel? This was made easy.
White-seed Montreal bagels without the schlep
Yes, I’ll return to Montreal someday, in sunnier times. And yes, I’ll stay here at the InterContinental. Truth be told, I miss it already.
A standard room with one king bed averages $230CAD per night, and Club Level adds approximately $75CAD a night; Club is recommended if you both plan to take advantage of the breakfast and cocktail hours. Romantic, gourmet and cultural packages are available all year.
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Compliments of the hotel, I received a reduced rate and an upgrade to Club Level.
The opinions and observations represented here, however, are purely my own.
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See also
C’est Bon, Montreal
An InterContinental Valentine
TWT Travel Binder: Quebec
