Montreal's downtown has a strange feel to it, coming from the United States. It feels safe, despite the surprisingly open and plentiful homeless or panhandlers. One might assume that if they have no money, they'd take it from you-- it happens here. But the panhandlers in Montreal are friendly, almost mannerly. They give directions to lost tourists, suggest that they have a nice day and, by the way, if you have some change, he'd be happy to take it off your hands, but only if you want to give it.
I met Dave there, and a charitable group had just dropped off some food to a few of his friends. As he packed it away for a later snack, he lit cigarette after cigarette. In the 15 minutes or so that I talked with him, he puffed his way through three. He blamed his government for his problems; he spoke in circles about food, jobs, money, food, jobs and money.
Street musicians are common here as well. A saxophonist played for coins in old town, but he said he was heading down to the Canadiens' opening game-- there's always money to spare there, he says. He sits outside the arena as fans leave the game. His repertoire is somewhat limited; I heard a Theme from a Summer Place a half dozen times. He said he could make about $80 in two hours here. His reed was tied on with some sort of string, not clamped with a ligature. Nearby was a drummer and a clarinet player.
Sleeping on a bench along the water was another man. Don't know if he was homeless, a panhandler, or just tired. Maybe he just needed a nap. His bike was locked to the bench on which he slept.
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