TORONTO VS MONTREAL: "Toronto Doesn't Suck That Much"

“Toronto Doesn’t Suck That Much,”

I am in the car on my way back to Montreal. I’m glad I have tissues because I can’t stop sniffling. 

And I don’t care. (“I love it!”) 

I’m leaving for Mexico in less than a month. I wanted to go somewhere else before I moved, and it was a toss-up between here and New York. 

And I’m so so so so glad I chose Toronto. 

Even the tarot agreed that it’s the wiser choice, and the Cancer new moon is more fitting for nurture, love and connection than for grand adventures. 

But that’s a story for another time. 

Annoying Things About Toronto

It’s very popular for Montrealers to hate on Toronto, and even for Torontonians to hate on Toronto, a little bit. 

General Vibe

Something felt “missing” about the city itself. Like someone had scooped out infrastructure that was supposed to be there. 

You ever walked into a house during mid-move? There’s furniture missing. That’s how the layout felt for me, even in the spicy buildings of downtown. Or perhaps, because I used to live there, the city felt like a ghost of itself. Sneaky Dees felt like the leftover blur of a dream. The beloved Annex was emptier and quieter. Even Queen’s Street was keeping us away from promised nightlife. 

Strict Building Rules

Toronto has a enormous rock stuck up its tight, clean ass. 

You can’t smoke on the balcony. 

You can’t have people over. (Not many, anyway.) 

You can’t let your friend stay in your room while you’re out of town. 

You can’t poop too loud. 

You can’t…

I know this doesn’t speak for the whole city, but many highrises in downtown Toronto. 

What it means for me personally:

Staying on the 40th floor isn’t as amazing as it sounds, trust. Especially when I’m not allowed to be there. If I have to leave the building for a smoke, for a quick skip to the store for oatmilk, I better make sure it’s worth the investment. 

I think in theory, we like to think we're high above everything. But in reality, we're humans and we need to be close to the Earth.

Roads and Traffic

It is an acknowledged and popular complaint that the Montreal roads are kinder to cyclists. 

Additionally, I found the pedestrian crossing light would take longer to light up. They were also farther apart. I could feel it’s more frowned upon to jaywalk. 

Did it stop me from doing it? Only a little. 

The cars are louder in Toronto. More white noise. 

Servers

I leave this as a last one because in Toronto, at least you can rely on the servers not to roll their eyes at you. Or display their irritation if you ask for sauce. I even wanted extra bubbles 

THAT being said… their cheer /uppity attitude can be superfluous and predictable. I don’t need to know your name. And you don’t need to know if I have any plans afterwards. And THEY ALWAYS ASK. I feel the dread creep up systematically: They bring over their little machine to the table, type in the amount, hand it over to you, and as soon as you’re agreeing to tip them 18% (because that’s the lowest option), you can hear it, “So, do you guys have anything fun planned for the rest of the day?”

When you hit your little toe against a table, you don’t feel the pain immediately. There’s a 2-4 second delay before your entire body will wince. But you know it’s coming, you brace yourself. 

Same with this question. You know it’s coming. You’re preparing: tight fake smile ready, generic answer, quick exit. 

It’s the same small-talk questions that kill me during a first date or a party:

“So, what do you do for work?”

“Where are you from?”

“What do you write about?”

I’ve never seen anything like this in the world. In no other city or country has a server pretended to be your friend. 

Alright, so enough roasting. Let’s be nice to Toronto:

What I Loved About Toronto

Toronto was my first home as an adult, and my first ticket to freedom. It is a pretty safe landing zone for a sassy 19-year-old, ready for an adventure. 

I leaned into the nostalgia, which may partly be why the entire TO air and environment seemed to be filtered in a pale lemon hue. 

So many neighbourhoods and buildings or even cafes - that are now quiet - once were rich with life and events. It reminded me of the little girl. Even though I’m the same height, the skyscrapers weren’t as tall anymore. 

Streetcars

Montreal gets the bike paths. 

But what is it about streetcars that add so much character to a city? Glossy red mini-giants, floating like snails through the city. 

We underestimate how fast they are. I’ve tried to outrun one. But perhaps it’s just how calming they are. 

FOOOOOOOD

Perhaps it’s the diversity or the competition, but the restaurants KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING. 

The flavours were familiar, yet bold. My tongue and entire being danced in delight. 

You can’t go wrong with any cuisine. It’s almost as if the previous few decades had them mingling with each other at parties. Even a $5 pav vada brightened my afternoon as I walked towards Harbourfront to meet my friend. 

How is it that my friends and I went out for drunken hakka noodles + other saucy treats on a Saturday night. The total was $80 ($92 with tip included). 

Pride 🏳️‍🌈

I don’t think I belong to pride. Sure, I’ve made out with some very pretty girls at parties. But overall, it doesn’t impact my life or identity. Who cares who I sleep with? Sometimes, not even the people I sleep with. 

But something about Toronto Pride touched me. It brought to my attention the centuries and generations of shame people had to go through. That maybe “the queer community” is a recent thing, or at least recently a public concept. Toronto, being special in diversity as it is, combined sexuality and background/nationality in its pride celebrations. Iranians, Lebanese, trans. Even parents of queer children marched to say, “We love you. We support you.” 

Goodbye

The first time I left Toronto, I didn’t know it would mark the beginning of the trajectory of my life. That I’d be moving around the world, unbeknownst to me. Four years here, four years there. From Asia to Canada to brushing the edges of South America. 

It was the summer of the song, “I Just Came to Say Hello.” Little did I note the accuracy of the sentiment. Passing by, flirting, then off to the next hot day. 

Even though it is not my current home, I have friends who invited me to visit before I head out of the country. 

Aligned

For the past two-three years, I’ve been practicing going with the flow and trusting the universe. I talk about it here. I was skeptical at first but for those who are: it works. It works when you relax and surrender yourself to the universe and when you decide that all is already working in your favour. 

Instead of stressing about which friend to do which activity with, I simply made a group chat. By coincidence, everything fell into place with little or no action from my part. I got to spend both individual and group time with each friend. I got to have private, much-awaited conversations, and I connected them to each other. Especially the ones that need each other the most. I enjoyed the tastiest food without a single reservation. I experienced the sun and the rain at all the right times. 

Aslı didn’t want me to come all the way down to her workplace to hand over her keys. “It’s out of your way,” she said. “Your rideshare is in the other direction.” 

I shrugged, “It’s worth it to spend a few more minutes with you.” 

When I get there, my phone rings. 

“Hi! This is your rideshare calling. Would it be an inconvenience if we changed the pickup spot? The traffic seems to be an unexpected issue.”

“Alright. Where?

“College Station.”

“I’m already here.”

Aslı didn’t care that she was at work. She fed me bulgur pilavı with all my favourite sides: acı turşu, çoban salatası, diet Coke. She got the chef to roll up a falafel wrap for the road. 

It was time for me to go. “Arkadaşım Eşek” played as we hugged tightly. 

“Ağlama,” she told me.

But a tear cracked in both of our eyes as I gripped my suitcase. I forced myself to turn around and walk into my new life.