“Let’s go to Trentemoult,” I decided.
I remembered visiting the small fishing village on the other side of the river with Feng, a few years ago. We had taken the Navibus, part of the city’s urban transit network, for the short ride to the south bank of the river. Technically, we were just a few minutes from the city centre but this district had a very laid-back vibe.
As soon as we arrived at the station, I realized it may not have been the best idea. My mom isn’t comfortable around rivers and the sea, and Mark had only taken a boat once, to go to Toronto Island, when he was still a baby—I had no idea how he was going to react.
We stepped onto the boat and stood at the back, by the engines. I was holding Mark in my arms, my mom by my side. They both looked scared and Mark immediately reached out for my mom. “Weekend sailors comforting each other!” I joked.
Not a single tear was shed, though, and we made it safely to the other side. In a way, Trentemoult reminds me a bit of the colourful barrio of La Boca in Buenos Aires, although much smaller. It definitely has a “bobo” (bourgeois bohême) feel.
