It’s a gloomy April day in Montreal’s Saint-Henri neighbourhood as I walk along the Lachine Canal. Spring officially began three weeks ago, but the leaves have not yet returned to the trees, and most of the garbage that appeared out of the melting snow is yet to be picked up. It’s cold and rainy, and the miserable weather seems a perfect match for the old industrial buildings that line Rue Saint-Patrick, which winds along the southern shore of the canal. The buildings are flat and wide, decrepit, covered in graffiti. Much of the glass that once filled top-floor windows is now broken. Entrances are boarded up, trespass warnings stamped by the city on the wooden blockades. As I move closer to my destination, I feel my phone vibrate with a text: “I am inside. They blocked the main entrance, but I found another way.” 

When I reach ...