Already in Montréal I was still having grand, romantic visions of becoming an analog artiste, carefully rationing frames like it was 1974.
Reality check: my phone camera rolled out of bed, did all the heavy lifting, and racked up hundreds of snapshots while my trusty Nikon F60 sat in the bag looking neglected. Between the 50mm and 85mm prime lenses, I managed to squeeze out maybe a few dozen actual film shots. Yes, I brought a whole backup SLR body on vacation just to treat it like a paperweight. I’m not proud.
I would march right back tomorrow for a do-over, but it’s already mid-October. The city’s sun-drenched, jubilant summer buzz has packed its bags and surrendered to the grim annual ritual of prepping for winter. So, a proper analog redemption tour will have to wait until next year. (Unless, of course, the missus is secretly orchestrating a birthday getaway—a man can dream, right?).
Looking through the rolls I did bother to shoot, one memory stands out: bumping into a delightful Scottish gentleman on the Metro, rocking full traditional kit and clearly en route to do something very important. We had a great chat, said our goodbyes, and then—not even an hour later—stumbled upon him busking near the Old Port. The man possessed some serious lung capacity; his bagpipe playing was downright incredible, so naturally we stuck around to listen and tossed some cash his way.
The rest of the shots? Mostly just me wandering aimlessly between bookstores, board game shops, food joints, and assorted street corners. They’re thoroughly unremarkable. But you know what? That’s fine. The camera body is aggressively “just okay,” the shots are fine, and that’s plenty good enough when you’re soaking up summer in Montréal—a city that is infinitely better than “just okay.”
Anyone else pack five pounds of analog gear on a trip only to shoot everything on their phone, or are you actually disciplined?
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