The word 'translation' comes, etymologically, from the Latin for 'bearing across'. Having been borne across the world, we are translated men. It is normally supposed that something always gets lost in translation; I cling, obstinately to the notion that something can also be gained. (Salman Rushdie)
The first thing that comes to mind is the cereal box. When I think of cereal boxes in Australia, they have the big front side with the enticing pictures and the name of the product. On the back they have nutritional advice or competition information or even sometimes a recipe you can follow using this product. Here, there's none of that. On the front (or is it the back?), is the French version and on the back (or...), is the English version. And that's on practically everything, from packets of rice and pasta to tissues and toilet paper. Prepackaged food like ham, cheese slices and olives from the deli are the same. It's really pretty clever.
But the best thing I've seen is the signage for streets and parks. This is Canada, right? So things in English are labelled pretty similarly to how we do it in Australia. Here in Montreal, we live in the inner city suburb of Outremont. In Outremont, there's a street called Outremont Ave in English (don't laugh, we lived in Padstow Parade, Padstow, so it happens in Sydney too!). But it's also called Av Outremont, in French. On the street signs it's 'Av Outremont Ave'. Now, isn't that pretty clever? I think so. So here's a test for you: if the nearby park is Outremont, what does the sign say?