A Ruelle of One's Own?

Before I became a part-time resident of Montréal in 2003, I had no knowledge of Montréal's network of alleyways, or, to use the more elegant-sounding French word, ruelles. Alleyways are not unique to Montréal, but Montréal's between-street streets are almost like a parallel city, one more akin to a village than an urban center.

I first began exploring the ruelles of my neighborhood, The Plateau, then expanded my wanderings to other neighborhoods, including Mile End, which has several of my favorite ruelles. (I'll feature various ruelles in future posts.) What I like about the ruelles is that they offer a glimpse into the everyday private lives of Montréalers; in other words, you can be something of a Peeping Tom, without getting arrested. Peek over and through the eclectic collection of walls and fences to find backyard gardens, some well-tended, lush with flowers and greenery, others overgrown and neglected, filled with discarded objects, others paved over and used for precious parking. In the early evenings, a particularly pleasant time to wander ruelles in summertime, you hear the clatter of silverware, the popping of wine corks and clinking of glasses, the burble of water features.

Children play in ruelles, safe--mostly--from traffic. People bicycle through them to avoid the urban rush. Dogs and cats love them. (As do skunks, as we discovered this summer when one visited our dining patio.) While the neighborhood streets of Montréal tend to be fairly unified--aside from those places where urban "renewal" projects left their unfortunate mark--the ruelles consistently surprise with their mad architectural hodgepodge. Some are tidy--a few beautified ones have been designated "Ruelles Vertes"--others decidedly grungier, requiring watchful stepping, particularly in springtime. You'll come across abandoned mattresses and sofas, obsolete computers and TVs, appliances and curious artworks. And hanging everywhere from porches and balconies: laundry, laundry, and more laundry, each clothesline a unique banner.

Then there's the graffiti. While there's no shortage of graffiti in all parts of Montréal, the ruelles tend to attract graffiti philosophers, statements and questions that can amuse or mystify, make you shake your head in recognition or puzzlement. (Wall Philosopher du Jour will be a regular feature of this blog.)

Though I've wandered some of my favorite ruelles countless times, each time I rediscover favorite miscellany and discover something new or changed, and that's without taking the seasons into consideration. A summer ruelle is entirely different from a winter ruelle. An autumn ruelle hints--with a last splash of brilliant color--at the shorter, quieter days ahead. A springtime ruelle offers--once the winter puddles dry up and the dog poop and debris are cleared away--promise of the long (and this year, wet) summer days to come.

Beyond riffing on the Virginia Woolf title, I chose "A Ruelle of One's Own" because the ruelles represent to me the sense of surprise and discovery that I find in Montréal as a whole. Though the ruelles of Montréal are not private, as you wander them you may feel as if you are being let in on something private. It's an interesting--and, for me, inspiring--sensation in a busy city; the sense of being part of a community yet also the sense that you can claim, for a few moments anyway, a small piece of it for your own. Montréal may not be the most beautiful or grand city in the world, but that's one of its charms. It doesn't wear all of its riches on its sleeve; you have to work a little to find them.