A Montréal Halloween Through New Eyes

Moving to Montréal has felt like stepping onto a movie set every October. As a newcomer, I quickly learned that this city doesn’t do Halloween halfway. By mid-October, entire neighborhoods transform with cobwebbed porches, grinning jack-o’-lanterns, and eerie purple lights. The air gets crisp, the maple leaves crunch underfoot, and suddenly pumpkin-spiced everything appears in cafés. I find myself as excited as a kid again – planning costumes, scoping out events, even practicing how to say “trick or treat” in French. Montréal’s Halloween season is an all-out festival, and experiencing it with fresh eyes has been a mix of cheeky fun and genuine awe. In this personal guide, I’ll take you through costume adventures, spooky city happenings, parties that go all night, and even pumpkin-picking road trips – all from the perspective of a newbie learning the ropes. Whether you’re looking for family-friendly scares or wild adult-only parties, Montréal has it, and I’ve dived in headfirst (sometimes literally, bobbing for apples). So grab a cozy sweater and a candy apple, and let’s explore what Halloween in Montréal is all about, newcomer-style.

Getting into the Spirit: Costumes, Thrift Shops & Creative Disguises

One of my first Montréal Halloween missions was finding the perfect costume. Little did I know, this city is a costume lover’s paradise. I wandered down Avenue du Mont-Royal and stumbled on Imagine Le Fun (34 Avenue du Mont-Royal Est) – a shop that’s basically costume heaven. From floor to ceiling, it’s packed with every disguise imaginable: vintage pirate coats, spooky masks, superhero suits – you name itmontrealsecret.co. For someone used to tiny seasonal costume aisles in department stores, this dedicated year-round costume shop blew my mind. I must have tried on a dozen wigs and hats (note to self: neon green hair is not my color).

Another pro tip I picked up: Montréalers hit the thrift stores for Halloween gold. Places like Eva B (2015 Boul. St-Laurent) – an iconic vintage shop – have entire sections of funky retro clothes and even costume rentals. I popped in and found a treasure trove of sequined jackets, 80s prom dresses, and old costumes from decades past. It smelled like Grandma’s attic (in a good way) and had this cool artsy vibe with graffiti on the walls. I chatted with the staff, who told me Eva B even serves free popcorn and apple cider while you shop. How Montréal is that?

Of course, for quick-and-cheap options, I learned to hit Village des Valeurs (Value Village) early in the month. Each thrift chain store here rolls out a special Halloween section . I found a gently used witch hat for $5 and some quirky props. There’s a competitive buzz in the aisles – families hunting for kids’ costumes, college students grabbing goofy onesies, and me, the newcomer, debating if I can pull off a convincing Dracula. (Spoiler: with Montréal’s multicultural flair, I saw vampires, zombies, and even a poutine costume out on the streets later!).

Then there’s the hardcore stuff: Joseph Ponton Costumes, a legendary rental shop in business since 1865. Yes, 1865 – older than the lightbulb! This place has tens of thousands of costumes and props, basically an institution in the city’s costume scenepontoncostumes.com. Walking in felt like entering a theater wardrobe; I was surrounded by historical gowns, mascot suits, even full suits of armor. I didn’t rent anything this time, but just browsing gave me so many ideas (and a few laughs – like seeing a full-on Napoleon outfit complete with a horse-on-wheels).

The best part of getting into costume as a newcomer has been the ice-breaker it provides. When I did finally settle on an outfit – a mashup of thrifted steampunk pieces – it earned appreciative nods at a party, and instant conversation starters. Montréalers love when you get creative. As one local told me, “Go big or ghoulish – no one here’s gonna bat an eye.” I took that to heart. By the time Halloween week arrived, I had a tickle trunk (that’s Canadian for dress-up box, I learned!) full of costume bits and bobs, and an open invite to a costume-making get-together. Dressing up isn’t just for kids here; it’s serious community sport. And for this newcomer, diving into that playful creativity was the perfect welcome.

Eerie Decorations and City Atmosphere

You don’t need a map to know Halloween is coming in Montréal – just follow the giant plastic spiders and pumpkin displays. By early October, I noticed even the local dépanneurs (corner stores) had piles of pumpkins out front. It’s like the entire city collectively says, “Alright, time to get spooky!” Houses and apartment balconies start sporting fake tombstones, cotton spiderwebs, and dangling skeletons. On a walk through Le Plateau, I saw one balcony with a full-sized witch mannequin riding a broomstick on a zipline (I did a double take, I admit). In Westmount and Notre-Dame-de-Grâce, some of the big old houses go all-out: think elaborate graveyard scenes on the lawn and animatronic ghoststhat groan on cue. As an apartment-dweller, I settled for a modest jack-o’-lantern in my window – which my landlord’s cat promptly decided was its new friend.

Walking the city at night during this season is a treat (and a trick). The atmosphere is equal parts festive and eerie. The sun sets earlier now, so by 6 pm the streets are dark and all those decorations light up. One evening in Montreal-Nord, I literally followed a trail of orange lights and inflatable ghosts to discover The Witch’s House, a home famed for its over-the-top decor. It did not disappoint – there were dozens of glowing jack-o’-lanterns, inflatable demons popping out of coffins, and a hulking reaper figure looming by the door. A crowd of kids (and adults) gathered outside just to gawk. I learned that the owner, a lady affectionately nicknamed “La Sorcière”, has been doing this for 40 years and just loves seeing the smiles (and occasional screams) it brings. Honestly, I felt a warm nostalgia standing there – it reminded me that Halloween isn’t just about fright, it’s about community fun.

Downtown, the commercial spots join in too. Ste-Catherine Street shop windows show off creepy mannequins and cobwebs. Even the Montreal Eaton Centre gets a haunted makeover inside. I walked through the mall and bumped into a pop-up “haunted hallway” with motion-sensor spiders – nearly spilled my pumpkin spice latte thanks to that surprise! City institutions aren’t immune: rumor has it the Montreal City Hall has a few ghost stories of its own, and they’ve been known to put a pumpkin or two on the steps. One particularly Instagrammable sight: Place Jacques-Cartier in Old Montréal lined with carved pumpkins and flickering lanterns, against the backdrop of 18th-century buildings. The mix of historic architecture and spooky decor gives a “time-travel Halloween” vibe that’s uniquely Montréal.

And oh, the weather – I have to mention it, because planning a costume here involves checking the forecast obsessively. Late October can be anything from a balmy 15°C evening to a teeth-chattering 0°C with rain. In fact, Halloween 2025 was predicted to be “very, very wet” on October 31 timeout.com. Locals have warned me: incorporate layers into your costume! I’ve seen kids trick-or-treating with parkas over princess dresses, and I myself had to strategize an outfit that would look okay with a thermal shirt underneath. It’s all part of the charm – a chilly wind rustling through dry leaves as you shuffle to a party adds that real autumn ambiance (plus it gives you a great excuse to clutch a hot cocoa).

Overall, the city’s look and feel in October captivated me. Montréal manages to be whimsical and haunting at the same time. From the twinkling orange lights on balconies to the laughter and shrieks echoing down the streets on the weekends before Halloween, you can just sense everyone’s in on the fun. As a newcomer, I felt like I’d stepped onto the set of “Hocus Pocus”, but with a Québécois twist – and I absolutely loved it.

Pumpkin-Picking Adventures Beyond the City

No Montréal Halloween experience would be complete without a classic fall ritual: pumpkin picking. As a city dweller originally from a place where pumpkins came from the grocery bin, I was determined to pluck my own straight from the patch. Luckily, I quickly learned that just beyond the urban sprawl, farm country beckons with orange fields and autumn fun. So one blustery Saturday, a few fellow newcomer friends and I rented a car (well, car2go – très moderne) and set off on a pumpkin pilgrimage.

Our first stop: Quinn Farm (La Ferme Quinn) out on Île-Perrot. It’s about a 30-35 minute drive west of the city, and the scenery en route was half the joy – golden trees along the highway, farm stands selling apples and cider. We knew we’d arrived when we saw a big red barn with “La Ferme Quinn” emblazoned on it and rows of cars parked in a field. The place was bustling with families and eager pumpkin hunters. Quinn Farm (2495 Boul. Perrot, Notre-Dame-de-l’Île-Perrot) is famous for its u-pick and has a rustic farm store and barn that looked straight out of a postcard restomontreal.ca. We grabbed a wheelbarrow (yes, they provide wheelbarrows – for pumpkins or for giving your lazy friend a ride) and headed into the pumpkin fields. There were hundreds of pumpkins in all shapes and sizes sprawled across the mud. I spotted toddlers attempting to lift pumpkins bigger than themselves, couples taking cheesy photos, and one guy who inexplicably dressed as Mario for the outing – must have been practicing for Halloween early.

At Quinn, we not only picked pumpkins, but also enjoyed the whole farm experience. We got lost in a mini corn maze (meant for kids, but hey, we’re young at heart), visited the petting zoo area with sheep and goats, and treated ourselves to fresh apple doughnuts from their barn shop afterward – which, by the way, was also stocked with local honey, jams, and the biggest squash I’ve ever seen. The air smelled like hay, cider, and woodsmoke from a nearby food truck grilling hot dogs. It was basically autumn in stereo scent. We heaved our chosen pumpkins (I ambitiously chose two medium ones, forgetting I’d have to carry them) into the wheelbarrow. The pricing was reasonable – by weight, or a flat fee for a big “as much as you can carry” pumpkin. No, I did not try to game that system – I value my back.

Montréal is lucky to be surrounded by rich agricultural regions, so you have options for pumpkin picking. Some other newcomers I met at the farm told me about Potager Mont-Rouge out in Rougemont (154 rang de la Montagne), about 45 minutes east in the Montérégie region. They raved that it’s picturesque, with tractor rides, a mini-farm, and even a wine tasting of their homemade apple cider on site restomontreal.ca. Apparently Rougemont is apple country, so you can double-dip and pick apples too if you go in early October. I made a mental note for next year’s fall bucket list. There’s also Ferme La Fille du Roy (1920 rang St-Simon, Mont-Saint-Hilaire) on the south shore, offering wood-fired pizza on weekends and a corn maze with animated characters – a perfect combo of carbs and carbs: pizza and pumpkins!

One place that sounded like pure Halloween carnival is Citrouilleville (yes, “Pumpkinville”) near Valleyfield. It’s a bit farther (~45 minutes west), but this isn’t just a farm – it’s a full-on pumpkin theme park, open weekends. They have inflatable games, theater performances for kids, a corn maze, and even “pumpkin houses” decorated for photo ops. I didn’t get to go, but the idea of a pumpkin village with vintage trucks and photo booths made my basic Instagrammer heart flutter. I mean, how many selfies with pumpkins are too many? (Don’t answer that).

By the end of our farm day, my arms were sore, boots muddy, and heart full. We hauled our plump orange treasures back to the city. On the drive home, the car smelled wonderfully of fresh pumpkin – or maybe that was the dozen apple cider donuts we couldn’t resist bringing back. Back in Montréal, carving these pumpkins turned into an impromptu gathering. We spread newspapers on my apartment floor, put on a playlist of French ghost stories and Quebec folk music, and got to work scooping seeds. My pumpkin ended up looking more derpy than spooky (I’m blaming the cheap carving knife), but it proudly joined others on my balcony. For a newcomer like me, the simple act of pumpkin picking and carving turned into a cherished memory of belonging. It connected me to the agricultural rhythm beyond the city and to new friends with sticky hands and pumpkin goop under our nails. In that moment, I felt fully part of Montréal’s autumn heartbeat.

Family-Friendly Frights: From Botanical Gardens to Neighborhood Haunts

One thing that struck me about Montréal’s Halloween scene is how family-friendly and kid-inclusive it is, even amid the spookiness. Coming from abroad, I wasn’t sure if Halloween here would be more of an adult party vibe or a kids’ candy craze – turns out, it’s both, neatly divided so everyone gets to enjoy their style of fun. As a newcomer without kids, I still found myself enchanted by the family-oriented events. They’re wholesome, creative, and frankly a great way to spend a daytime before the grown-up parties start.

Top of my list was visiting the Montréal Botanical Garden’s Halloween event, known this year as Halloween Shivers(or Les Frissons d’Halloween en français). I kept hearing about it, and the name alone intrigued me – would the greenhouse be full of ghosts? In reality, it was even cooler (and cuter) than I imagined. The Botanical Garden (4101 Sherbrooke St E) transforms for the entire month of October. When I went one afternoon, I was greeted by a courtyard filled with pumpkin people – literally pumpkins decorated as goofy characters by local kids, all lined up for the Grande Parade des Citrouilles. Inside the main exhibition greenhouse, they had a storyline unfolding: the resident sorcerer Kalbacius and his apprentice Petiole were guiding visitors through magical plants and creatures. I actually met a “wizard” in a robe who showed us a cage of carnivorous plants and dramatically explained they were ingredients for spells – the kids around were wide-eyed (okay, I was too!). The garden staff really commit to the bit, and it made me feel like I’d stepped into a fairy tale.

What I loved about Halloween Shivers is that it combines nature with Halloween imagination. We wandered through the outdoor “Maze” garden turned spooky labyrinth, and though it was daylight, the rustling of leaves and surprise scarecrows around corners gave a fun jolt. In the Great Greenhouse, aside from those carnivorous plants, there were dozens of intricately carved pumpkins – not just triangles for eyes, but actual art (I saw one carved into a dragon and another into a fairy cottage). They even ran an interactive “Monster Nursery” craft workshop for kids where little ones were making their own imaginary monsters out of art supplies. The idea, a staff member told me, was that at the end of the month their crafted monsters would “return to the other world” with Kalbacius. How adorable (and very on-theme)! There was also a stage play going on, “Même pas peur!” (French for “Not even scared!”) featuring a timid little squash character overcoming her fears . It was heartwarming hearing kids giggle at the slapstick and cheer when she found her courage. Even though my French isn’t perfect, the story came through – fear and bravery is a universal language, n’est-ce pas?

This Botanical Garden event runs all October, from the 1st to the 31st, and it’s popular. I went on a weekend and it was comfortably crowded – mostly families, some costumed (I spotted mini witches and superheroes toddling around). Pro tip: go early in the day to avoid the biggest crowds, and definitely sample any seasonal snacks at the café. I had a pumpkin spice muffin that gave me the strength to face the giant fake spider in the tropical greenhouse (I know it was rubber, but it was very realistic, okay?). For any newcomer or visitor, Halloween at the Botanical Garden is a must-see – it shows a playful, community-centric side of Montréal, and you get to experience the city’s famed garden in a totally different light (literally, with all the lanterns and decorations). Plus, on the practical side, it’s a safe, contained environment if you have little ones who might find street trick-or-treating overwhelming. As I left, I overheard a dad say, “On se voit l’année prochaine, Kalbacius!” (“See you next year!”) which made me smile – people make it an annual tradition. I have a feeling I will too.

Beyond the big attractions, there are numerous community haunted houses and events that welcome families. In fact, I discovered that many Montrealers take pride in turning their own homes into neighborhood haunts for Halloween night. For example, I read about Ivan and Joelle’s Haunted House in Dorval (580 Pine Beach Blvd, Dorval) – it’s a private home that the owners convert into an extreme 20-minute walk-through scare-fest, free for all ages (though perhaps best for older kids, as there are apparently chainsaw sounds and the like). Ivan has been doing it for 46 years and starts setting up three months in advance! The dedication is unreal. They even gather donations for local charities as “entry” – a beautiful touch to use fright for good. I didn’t trek out to Dorval on Halloween night (I chickened out from the description of Michael Myers lurking in their yard), but I saw footage on the news: families lining up down the block, kids coming out wide-eyed and laughing. The consensus: it canblow people’s minds. Noted for next year when I’m braver.

Closer to home, I strolled by a community center in NDG (Monkland Community Centre) where they host an annual Haunted House for the neighborhood on Oct 31st. It’s a tradition since 2015 and draws hundreds of visitors. I poked my head in while volunteers were setting up – plastic gravestones, fake fog machine, the works – and the organizer explained they get over 600 people going through in just two hours . Impressive! The vibe was enthusiastic rather than truly terrifying; they cater to a range of ages so everyone from grandparents to toddlers can enjoy a friendly spook. Again, I felt that warm community spirit – parents, teens, and seniors all volunteering together, stringing up ghosts and sharing decorating tips. It struck me that Halloween in Montréal has this way of bridging generations. I even saw a grandma helping hang a skeleton, chuckling that it reminded her of Halloweens when she was a kid in the 1960s.

Let’s not forget trick-or-treating itself, the core of Halloween night for youngsters. On October 31st, I walked through residential streets in Rosemont and later Westmount just to soak in the scene. It was adorable. Kids in costumes skipping from door to door, parents trailing with steaming travel mugs (coffee or maybe mulled wine – it was chilly!), and houses lit up with friendly jack-o’-lantern smiles. In Rosemont–La Petite-Patrie, one entire block collaborated on decorations and even set up a little hot chocolate stand for trick-or-treaters and weary parents. Meanwhile, in the suburbs of the West Island, I’m told they often see hundreds of kids in one night, so neighbors compete on who gives the best candy. As a newcomer, I didn’t have a house to give out candy from, but a friend invited me to experience it at her place. Handing out candy in Montréal was a crash course in local culture: I heard the classic “Triiiiick or Treeeat!” but also tiny voices squeaking “Des bonbons s’il vous plaît!” (French for “candies, please!”). Bilingual trick-or-treating – how cool is that? Of course, I had a big bowl of Canadian treats ready: Coffee Crisp, Aero, maybe a few maple lollipops for good measure. The kids’ costumes ranged from princesses and ninjas to a hilariously local twist: one kid was dressed as a Montreal Canadiens hockey player… who had turned into a zombie. Gotta love that hometown creativity.

By 9 pm, the little goblins were back home sorting their haul, and a peaceful hush fell over the leaf-strewn streets. The family-friendly part of Halloween wrapped up, and it was time for the adults (and us freewheeling newcomers) to come out and play. I’ll always cherish seeing how Montréal embraces kids during Halloween – it’s exuberant yet safe, spooky yet sweet. And if I ever have a family of my own here, I know this city will provide a magical Halloween backdrop for them, just like it did for me this first year.

Haunted Montréal Nights: Ghost Tours, Haunted Houses, and Chills for Grown-Ups

Once the kiddos are tucked in with their candy stashes, Montréal’s darker and edgier Halloween side takes the stage. I discovered pretty quickly that this city has plenty to offer for those of us seeking real chills after dark – the kind that make you glance over your shoulder on the walk home. As an avid horror fan (with a cowardly streak, I admit), I was eager to explore Montréal’s haunted offerings, from historic ghost tours to professional haunted houses. Armed with courage (and maybe a flask of liquid courage), I dove into the spooky side of town.

First up, I simply had to do a Haunted Montreal ghost walk. Montréal is an old city by North American standards, and old cities mean old ghosts – or so I hoped! Haunted Montreal is a local company that runs guided ghost tours in various neighborhoods, and in October they ramp it up with extra tours and special themes timeout.com. I joined their Haunted Griffintown tour on a chilly Friday night. Picture this: about 15 of us huddled together under a lamppost by the Lachine Canal, as our guide – dressed in black with a lantern – spins tales of crime, tragedy, and spectres from the 19th century. We wandered the dark streets, stopping at supposedly haunted spots. One tale was about the headless ghost of Mary Gallagher, a notorious story in local folklore, said to roam Griffintown looking for her missing head (yes, really). The guide was an amazing storyteller; at one point he led us under a bridge where the echoes made it seem like whispers were coming from all around – I got full-body goosebumps!

For a more interactive scare, I also tried the Haunted Pub Crawl (because what’s a ghost story without a pint to calm the nerves?). This one was brilliant: we moved between three historic pubs in Old Montréal, and at each stop the guide recounted some morbid history of the area, then gave us time to top up our “liquid courage” mtl.org. By the end of the night, I had learned about murderous nuns (yikes), haunted artifacts, and which pub supposedly has a resident ghost in the basement. Whether or not you believe in ghosts, these tours are so much fun. They also double as a twisted history lesson, so I walked away knowing more about Montréal’s past. Haunted Montreal even does Paranormal Investigations where they give you EMF detectors to hunt spirits in places like an old cemetery. I haven’t braved that yet, but it’s on the list for when I really want to test my mettle.

Now, ghost tours are tame compared to the full-contact-style haunted houses that pop up for the season. The biggest name I kept hearing in hushed, reverent tones was Malefycia. This is no ordinary haunted house – it’s an immersive horror experience for adults only, and it has built a near-legendary reputation over 9 editions. The theme changes each year; for 2025 it was called “Canal 9”, riffing on retro TV nightmares. I had to see what the fuss was about, so a friend and I bought tickets for a mid-October night. We showed up at a warehouse venue in the Old Port area (the secrecy added to the thrill), and right from the waiting area we could hear muffled screams and insane laughter from inside. Gulp. The concept was that we, the audience, were being taken “inside” a forgotten TV channel where all the creepy characters from 80s and 90s shows still live. Let me tell you, they nailed it – too well. We were led room to room, each staged like a demented version of a TV set. Think twisted children’s show characters and horror movie hosts that suddenly spring to life. At one point, we walked through a mock sitcom living room where a ghoul burst out of the television screen to chase us (I think I set a personal speed record bolting out of there). The actors can get really close – one leaned in and whispered “Stay tuned…” in my ear, which I’ll probably hear in nightmares forever. It was honestly terrifying, but in that adrenaline-rush way. Malefycia runs on select nights through October (about 12 nights total), and they recommend reserving because it sells out. I see why: it’s like an art installation crossed with a theater crossed with a haunted maze. Not for the faint of heart or claustrophobic, but if you want to test your limits, oh boy, Montréal has you covered.

If Malefycia is the edgy newcomer on the scene, La Ronde’s Fright Fest is the grand old dame of Halloween scares. La Ronde is our local Six Flags amusement park, and every October they transform it into a giant playground of horror at night. I went on a Saturday with a group (safety in numbers, right?). By day, they have a family-friendly pumpkin festival, but after 6 PM it’s Fright Fest and the park is swarming – not just with people, but with monsters. Picture roaming hordes of zombies, clowns, and creatures actively trying to startle you as you walk between rides. They had five haunted houses set up, each with a different theme, plus “scare zones” around the park. We tried the new one called Clown Carnage, aptly named as it turns out – it was like stepping into a psychedelic nightmare circus. Strobe lights, crazed clowns at every turn… I found myself laughing and screaming at once, which is an odd mix of emotions. The roller coasters were running too, so there’s this surreal experience of hurtling through the night on the Vampire coaster and seeing the city skyline, then stepping off and immediately being greeted by a growling chainsaw dude. They even had live shows, like a demonic magic act on the main stage. Fright Fest runs weekends in October up until Halloween, generally closing by the last Sunday before Oct 31 . It’s included with park admission if you have a season pass, otherwise you buy a ticket. The place was packed, mostly with teenagers and young adults relishing the scares. As a newcomer, it struck me how integrated into local tradition this event is – I overheard a group behind us in line say they come every year since they were 13. It’s like a Halloween rite of passage here.

Montréal also has smaller scale frights: there was a Haunted Redpath Museum Tour at McGill University (combining science and ghosts – nerdy and fun), and some escape rooms around town offered special spooky scenarios just for October. One night, I went to an escape game themed like a haunted asylum in Laval – solving puzzles while occasionally being startled by a dummy in the corner that moved when we found a key. Good times!

In the spirit of research (and sheer curiosity), I also made a late-night pilgrimage to a famously spooky spot: the Grey Nuns Residence near Concordia University, which urban legend says is haunted by the ghosts of nuns and orphans (dark story: a fire in the 1910s). It’s a dorm now, but I have a friend living there who swears she heard footsteps in empty halls. We didn’t see anything that night – except our own shadows – but it gave me a thrill to stand in such a storied building at midnight. Montréal has a fair share of these “haunted” sites if you ask locals: the Mount Royal Cemetery with its Victorian graves, the Old Forum (former hockey arena, allegedly haunted by a ghost spectator), even the Jacques Cartier Bridge has lore about ghostly figures. Whether one believes or not, it’s fascinating how ghost stories weave into the city’s fabric.

By the end of October, I felt like I had experienced a whole spectrum of fear in Montréal – from playful spooks to downright heart-pounding horrors. As a newcomer, diving into these haunted nights was not only a test of bravery but a surprisingly social experience. I screamed in sync with strangers and then laughed with them afterward, the fear instantly bonding us. Standing in line for haunted houses, I swapped scary movie recommendations with locals; on ghost tours, I shared flashlight beams with fellow tour-goers nervously checking dark corners. Fear can bring people together, ironically. And in Montréal, it’s served with a side of culture and community. I went to bed on October 30th with my mind racing from ghost stories and my ears still echoing with haunted house screams – and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Party Time in the City: Montréal’s Halloween Nightlife and Festivals

Of course, once the witching hour nears and we’ve had our fill of pumpkin patches and ghost tours, it’s time for another side of Montréal’s Halloween spirit: the parties, the nightlife, and the downright extravagant celebrations. I learned fast that Montréalers love a good party year-round, but Halloween cranks that dial to 11. For a newcomer looking to let loose, there was almost an overwhelming number of choices – from wild club nights to quirky themed events. Let me spill the (witch’s) brew on how I navigated the Halloween party circuit in the city.

In the weeks leading up to October 31, I noticed the flyers and Facebook invites multiplying: Halloween bashes everywhere! Montréal’s club scene really shines at this time. There’s essentially a club event for every subculture and taste. I’m not exaggerating. I kicked off my Halloween partying on the earlier side, October 22, at the iconic Café Cléopâtre on Boulevard St-Laurent. This is a historic cabaret-style club (with quite a storied past in the red-light district), and that night they hosted “101 Frights that go Bump in the Night” – a spooky/sexy variety show. It was the perfect introduction: a mix of burlesque, drag, circus acts, all with horror twists. Imagine a striptease… with zombie makeup, or an aerial hoop act where the performer is dressed like a bat. Ridiculously entertaining! I showed up in a simple costume (vampire fangs, done) but realized I could’ve been in full cosplay and fit right in.

As Halloween week progressed, the choices exploded. On October 26, I decided to try something different and went to Muzique nightclub’s “Bollywood Halloween” (Bolloween) party. This was such a blast – a huge crowd dancing to Bollywood hits mixed with pop, almost everyone in costumes ranging from Bollywood film characters to classic monsters with a Desi twist. They even had a costume contest at midnight. I didn’t win anything, but I was just happy attempting (poorly) to dance along to the choreography some friend group had clearly practiced. The vibe was inclusive and energetic, like a giant colorful mashup of cultures under the Halloween umbrella. Where else but Montréal do you see a ghoul doing Bhangra moves?

Halloween itself (Oct 31) fell on a Friday this year, meaning the party stretched into a full weekend. On the big night, I had a tough choice but ended up at La Voûte in Old Montréal. Now La Voûte is literally an old bank vault turned swanky club – talk about atmosphere. For Halloween, they transformed it into an “Area 21” theme, kind of an alien/Area 51 mashup . The setting was perfect: you descend into this massive vault, and that night it was filled with fog, lasers, and people in extraterrestrial get-ups. I saw glowing green alien masks, a group of girls who collectively were dressed as the solar system (with one flamboyant sun in the middle), and plenty of Men in Black. The music was electronic with spacey vibes. It was surreal to dance in a 1920s bank vault at 2 AM, surrounded by aliens and astronauts. La Voûte actually ran parties three nights in a row (Oct 31, Nov 1, Nov 2), and some true party animals I know went to all three. I contented myself with one wild night – my feet needed a rest after that!

For something completely off-the-wall, Montréal has an infamous crew called Cirque de Boudoir, who host what are essentially fetish-meets-circus Halloween extravaganzas. This year they had Cabaret du Diable on Halloween night at Cabaret Lion d’Or and Cirque du Diable on Nov 1 at Théâtre Paradoxe . Through a friend, I managed to snag a ticket to the Cabaret Lion d’Or event. Oh my. Walking in, I realized my costume was about 50% as daring as the unofficial dress code. Think latex, leather, devil horns, body paint… people were not shy. The performances were incredible though – burlesque dancers, a fire-breather (yes, indoors!), acrobats in demon costumes swinging from the ceiling. The whole night was a sensual fever dream with a Halloween twist. I won’t go into too many details (what happens at Cabaret du Diable stays at Cabaret du Diable), but it showed me a side of Montréal that’s edgy, artistic, and unafraid to push boundaries. Definitely not your small-town costume party!

Music lovers had their pick as well. I can’t forget to mention one of Montréal’s proud traditions: The Rocky Horror Picture Show Halloween Ball. Rocky Horror (the cult 1975 film and live show) is huge here – like the biggest in North America huge. They do it every year at the gorgeous Rialto Theatre (and a couple shows at the Décarie Theatre) with full costume-clad shadow cast and audience participation. Being a Rocky Horror virgin (as they call first-timers), I knew I had to experience it. I caught the show on Oct 31 at the Rialto (Mile End). WOW. The theatre was packed with fans in fishnets and corsets, many who had clearly been doing this for years. The movie played, actors performed in front of the screen, and the audience shouted callbacks at the top of their lungs, threw rice during the wedding scene, squirted water guns during the rain scene – it was madness and I loved it. We all did the Time Warp like it was a sacred ritual. This year was the film’s 50th anniversary, so it felt extra celebratory. At one point the host had us all yell “Happy Halloween, you wild creatures!” and indeed, looking around at that joyous, weird crowd, I felt like I’d found the heart of alternative Montréal. If you’re ever in town for Halloween, Rocky Horror at the Rialto is a must, even if you don’t know the film – you’ll learn fast.

Speaking of music, another unique event I checked out was a Halloween candlelight concert at the Rialto (again) a few days before Halloween. This was something completely different – a string quartet played famous spooky tunes (think Thriller, Ghostbusters, even This Is Halloween from Nightmare Before Christmas) in a dark theater lit by hundreds of candles. It was beautiful and haunting; an elegant prelude to the craziness of clubbing. At one point during Thriller, a couple of audience members spontaneously got up and started doing the zombie dance in the aisle, which got a good laugh. Only in Montréal do you get a classy classical concert that still doesn’t take itself too seriously.

Montréal’s festival scene doesn’t take a break either. I found out there’s a whole Festival SPASM, showcasing horror and sci-fi short films, that runs in late October quebecvacances.com. I went to one of their screenings at a small theater in the Latin Quarter. It was super cool – a mix of local Québec shorts (with subtitles for folks like me) and international ones. Some were creepy, some hilarious, some downright bizarre. After the films, everyone piled into the lobby where they had a DJ and turned it into an impromptu party. It felt like a gathering of the city’s film geeks and horror buffs, and as a movie lover, I felt right at home discussing which short was the scariest over a Quebec microbrew.

Another cultural crossover: Montréal embraces not just Halloween but Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) thanks to its sizeable Mexican community. Around the same time, there were Day of the Dead events downtown – the Time Out Market had a free fiesta with face painting and special cocktails , and there was a beautiful altar exhibition and parade in the Plateau organized by the local Mexican community mtl.org. I swung by the Eaton Centre where they had a Day of the Dead setup – bright marigolds, sugar skulls, and traditional music. It was a nice reminder that this season is about honoring the dead as much as scaring the living, and Montréal is the kind of inclusive city that celebrates it all. I even got my face painted in the calavera style (skull face) for free by a talented artist, then awkwardly took the metro home forgetting I looked like a festive skeleton. Good times.

And let’s not forget the simpler joys: Halloween night bar-hopping. On November 1 (a Saturday this year, so the party continued), a bunch of us newcomers did a casual tour of some neighborhood bars in the Plateau and Mile End. Almost every bar had its own theme – one dive bar had a Stranger Things night with the place decked out like the Byers’ living room (alphabet wall lights and all), another had a live band playing covers of “spooky” rock songs (think Bark at the Moon, Pet Sematary by the Ramones). We ended up at a place on St. Laurent that was doing “Monsters Karaoke”. I will forever cherish the memory of a guy in a full Dracula cape belting out “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys with absolute conviction. No one judges on Halloween – the weirder, the better.

In summary, Halloween partying in Montréal was beyond anything I expected. The city offers something for everyone: cheesy fun, high-glamour costume balls, hardcore raves, niche cultural events, and everything in between. As a newcomer, I felt spoiled for choice – and also completely welcomed wherever I went. Dressed as a vampire, or a zombie, or an alien, I was never out of place. It’s like the whole city collectively agrees to suspend normality for a few days and just share in the thrill of make-believe. It’s incredibly liberating. By the end of it, I had made new friends (it’s easy to compliment someone’s costume and spark a conversation), danced till dawn, and laughed more times than I could count. Montréal’s Halloween nightlife is a big, inclusive masquerade, and I was so grateful to dance in step with it.

Sweet & Spooky Bites: Halloween Treats and Eats in Montréal

Amid all the costumes and partying, a newcomer’s gotta eat – and ideally eat things shaped like ghosts or pumpkins, right? One delightful aspect of experiencing Halloween here was discovering the seasonal foods and treats that pop up around Montréal. As someone who unabashedly has a sweet tooth (and a savory tooth, and a carb tooth… okay, I just love food), I made it a side mission to taste the Halloween spirit.

Firstly, let’s talk pumpkin spice and beyond. Montréal’s café scene is top-notch, and come fall, many coffee shops roll out seasonal specials. Yes, the pumpkin spice latte is ubiquitous (Starbucks, of course, but also indie spots), but I found local twists too. At a little café in Verdun, I sipped a pumpkin spice latté with a hint of maple – basically autumn in a cup. Another spot in Mile End did a black charcoal latte called the “Witch’s Brew” that was honestly more for the ‘gram (it was pitch black and sprinkled with edible glitter). It tasted like a normal latte, but I appreciated the theatrics. Pair any of these with a pumpkin or apple pastry from the bakery, and you’ve got yourself a cozy afternoon treat between haunted events.

On the dessert front, certain Montreal sweet shops go all-out for Halloween. I stopped by Les Glaceurs, a cupcake bakery in Old Montréal, and they had the cutest Halloween cupcakes – think candy eyeballs, icing that looks like brains, tombstone toppers, etc. I devoured a chocolate cupcake with orange buttercream that had a tiny fondant ghost on it. Almost too adorable to eat… almost. There’s also Bar à Beurre in Old Montréal, which I discovered was offering special Halloween cookies and macarons decorated as mummies and spidersmtl.org. Yes, I treated myself to a dozen. The cashier probably thought I was hosting a kids’ party or something – nope, just me “researching” one cookie at a time.

For something truly Québécois, I swung by a local patisserie in Rosemont that had tarte à la citrouille (pumpkin pie) and even beignes à la citrouille (pumpkin donuts). The pumpkin pie here is interesting – a bit lighter and more custardy than some I’ve had elsewhere, and often not as heavily spiced. I actually liked it more; you could really taste the squash. A slice of that with a dollop of whipped cream, eaten at the kitchen table while still in half costume after a night out = the height of contentment, let me tell you.

I also have to mention something I found utterly charming: at Jean-Talon Market, one of the big public markets, they had a harvest festival vibe with giant pumpkins on display and vendors selling warm spiced apple cider. Wandering that market on a brisk October morning, munching on roasted pumpkin seeds that a vendor was handing out, was a simple pleasure. Nearby, a bakery in Little Italy was frying frittelle di zucca – Italian pumpkin fritters – as their nod to Halloween. I tried one dusted in sugar, and it was divine.

Now, Halloween isn’t just about sweets. Bar and restaurant-wise, some places create spooky-themed menus or cocktails. A quirky example: I dined at a bistro called Paparmane (in the Village) which for the week of Halloween did a special menu with punny namesmtl.org. I remember they had a “Bloody Beet Soup” (which was a delicious borscht, very blood-red) and “Frankenstein Pasta” which was pasta with a vivid green pesto sauce and charred veggies making it look creepy. The effort made me smile, and the food was actually great. Many pubs also have a “Halloween cocktail” – you know, those bright green or red concoctions with dry ice smoke or fake spider garnishes. I had a neon green kiwi-vodka drink at a pub on Bishop Street that came with plastic fangs hooked on the rim of the glass (which I promptly wore as a prize). So silly, so good.

And of course, candy! Being an adult with no children, I had no shame in buying a box of classic Halloween candies “for the trick-or-treaters” and then inevitably eating a bunch myself. I also discovered Bonbons Montréal, a candy shop that had a special section for retro candies and international treats. They had some gummy candies imported from France shaped like vampires and pumpkins – had to try those, purely for cultural comparison, of course.

One more unexpected treat: my local microbrewery (pretty much every neighborhood in Montréal has a microbrewery or craft beer pub) tapped their seasonal Pumpkin Ale just in time for Halloween. If you’re a beer person, hunt one of those down. The one I tried was spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg, and real pumpkin in the brew – imagine beer meets pumpkin pie. It was delicious and potent. Sitting on a terrasse heated by a propane lamp, sipping that malty, spicy goodness while wearing a witch hat (why not?), was a peak Montréal-in-the-fall experience.

Through food, I realized how Montrealers infuse a bit of Halloween into everything. Even the iconic Montreal bagel shops had orange-and-black sprinkled bagels on Halloween morning! It’s often tongue-in-cheek, not taking itself too seriously, which matches the city’s general vibe. You enjoy the theme, but quality isn’t sacrificed – the treats and eats are legitimately tasty.

For a newcomer like me, sampling these seasonal flavors was another way to connect with local culture. After all, taste and smell have a way of making memories stick. I know years from now, the scent of hot apple cider with a whiff of cinnamon will probably transport me back to this first Montréal Halloween, remembering how I balanced a cup of it while juggling a bag of candies and a freshly bought pumpkin at Jean-Talon Market, feeling wonderfully at home.

As the last jack-o’-lanterns slumped and the calendar flipped to November, I found myself reflecting on the whirlwind that was October. Experiencing Halloween in Montréal as a newcomer has been nothing short of magical, bizarre, and heartwarming all at once. This city managed to surprise me at every turn – just when I thought I’d seen it all, I’d stumble on another quirky tradition or an over-the-top decoration or an invite to yet another event. It’s like Montréal was gently saying, “Tu n’as encore rien vu” – you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

What really struck me is the inclusive, citywide enthusiasm. It didn’t matter your age or background; everyone had a way to partake. Kids had their pumpkin patches and parades and safe trick-or-treat havens. University students threw costumed house parties in the Plateau (I walked by a few, saw everything from Disney princesses dancing on balconies to a very committed Joker doing karaoke on a porch). Working folks and parents had their neighborhood events and got just as into dressing up after office hours. And the nightlife ensured even the most hardcore Halloween aficionados had an outlet for their creativity and wild side.

I think of my own journey this month: from nervously stepping into a costume shop not knowing what I wanted to be, to ending up confidently striding into a party as some steampunk vampire hybrid I concocted – and feeling completely accepted. In Montréal, Halloween isn’t about perfection, it’s about participation and expression. One of my neighbors, originally from abroad as well, said to me, “Before moving here I’d never celebrated Halloween. Now I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I get it now. There’s a kind of collective joy in pretending, in communal make-believe, that brings out the best in people. You laugh more, you talk to strangers more (complimenting costumes or sharing frights), and for a few days the ordinary world takes a backseat to a fantastical one.

The city also taught me a bit about itself through this holiday. Montréal has a rich vein of creativity and a flair for drama – evident in those elaborate yard displays and the professional haunted theatrics. It also has deep community ties; I saw how local initiatives (like those charity haunted houses or the community center events) pulled people together. And Montréal’s cultural mosaic means Halloween here is painted with many colors: you get the traditional North American trick-or-treat experience, but also touches of other heritages, whether it’s a Bollywood dance party or a Day of the Dead altar or French Canadian legends told anew. It’s a beautiful blend of global and local.

On a personal note, as someone still finding my footing in a new city, Halloween served as an unexpected social catalyst. I made more friends in one month than I had all summer, just by saying “hey, love your costume” or “mind if I join this ghost tour group?” or “cheers!” over a pumpkin ale. There’s a lowered barrier during festivities – people are simply more open and friendly (maybe it’s the masks? Sometimes anonymity brings out authenticity). By the end of October, I felt significantly more connected to Montréal. I’d danced in its clubs, wandered its streets at midnight, knocked on strangers’ doors (for candy, okay?), and shared in collective gasps and giggles. The city doesn’t feel foreign to me anymore; it feels like a place where I belong, quirks and all.

One funny memory: on November 1st, I went for a morning walk on Mont-Royal (the mountain/park) to clear my head. Along one of the trails, I came across a solitary, smashed pumpkin someone must’ve rolled down the hill. A squirrel was noshing on it happily. Scene could’ve been out of a Charlie Brown special. It made me chuckle – the afterlife of Halloween can be as fascinating as the main event. The city quickly moves on (the Christmas decorations were probably lurking in storage ready to pop out), but those little remnants – a stray candy wrapper, a forgotten tombstone lawn stake, a bit of glitter in your hair the next day – they remind you of the revelry that was.

In wrapping up my first (of many, I hope) Montréal Halloweens, I’ll say this: the city has cast a spell on me. A friendly enchantment that makes late October feel like a warm embrace despite the chill in the air. I came here not knowing what to expect, and I found a community of people who, for a month, collectively agree to be playful, to be scared and to scare, to be kids again. In doing so, they welcomed this newcomer into their story.

If you ever find yourself in Montréal during Halloween season – whether you’re fresh off the plane or a long-time resident – do yourself a favor: jump in with both feet (or jump-scare with both feet). Dress up in that ridiculous costume, try the hayride, visit the haunted house, say “bonjour” to the ghost in the Old Port, dance like no one’s watching (trust me, they’re too busy adjusting their own wings or fangs to judge). You’ll make memories you didn’t even know you needed. I sure did. And as the locals say, Joyeuse Halloween! May your Montréal spooky season be as fun, fantastical, and heartwarming as mine was.

Happy Halloween, à la Montréalaise! 🎃