Our Trip to Canada: Exploring Quebec City, Part 2

It turns out that there are a surprising number of things to do in Quebec City, and we did our best to get to as many as we could. That said, the next day started out in a very leisurely way as we all drifted out into the kitchen to have breakfast as we saw fit to do so. It’s nice to be able to ease your way into the day without feeling like you’ve been shot out of a cannon.

Our first stop for the day was the Quebec City Beaux Arts Museum, a fairly large and spacious place with large brass elevators straight out of The Wizard of Oz. The big draw that day was an exhibit on Hyperrealism, which as far as I could tell was basically about sculptures of people or bits thereof – often life-sized, but both bigger and smaller as well – that were crafted to look exactly like what they represented themselves to be, kind of like three-dimensional photographs. For example, the first thing you see when you walk into the exhibit is this:

Well, almost that. Geoff does not come with the museum. This is what we saw, but you will probably just see the statue if you go, unless Geoff goes back for another visit.

I spent a lot of time in that room because a) I tend to go through exhibits much more quickly than everyone around me and this is where the exhibit began and ended so it was a natural resting point, and b) behind the sculpture and just barely visible in this photo there was a short movie that covered some of the larger trends in Western art regarding realistic vs stylized artwork, from the Ancient Greeks down to, well, yesterday, and it was pretty interesting to watch. Also, there was a bench where you could sit while doing so, and that had to count for something.

The exhibit took you in a big circle from that room into other rooms and past any number of sculptures, some of which I thought were fun or interesting and some of which I did not but that’s art for you. My personal favorites were the Depression-Era Breadline and the Banana Lady (not their real titles, but so it goes), but there were others that were worth noting as well such as the Old Woman With The Baby. The sculpture of Andy Warhol’s Head probably was designed to send me a message as an observer, but I have to admit that mostly what I got out of it was that Andy Warhol would have been really creepy at that scale.

I ended up going around the whole exhibit maybe two or three times while Kim, Geoff, and Dave did their thing. What can I say? I’m just like that. Best to let me get on with it and find me when you’re done.

Aside from the Hyperrealism exhibit there were other floors with art to see. My personal favorites were the painting of the chicken, mostly because it struck me as vaguely ridiculous in the way chickens are; the Inuit family, since no self-respecting Canadian museum doesn’t have a section devoted to the Inuit as far as I could tell and that piece seemed the most interesting of the lot; and the Tubes Of Many Colors that were suspended over the outdoor courtyard and made a nice contrast with the grey stone church next door.

Eventually we all met up in the giant (seriously – huge) lobby of the museum and walked over toward Av. Cartier, a festive looking street full of Decorative Round Things, restaurants, and shops of many kinds.

Having gotten toward lunchtime during our visit to the art museum, our first order of business was to find a place that would have good food. We ended up in a Canadian version of an Irish pub, where we found a table by the window so we could watch the world go by as we ate.

We started with poutine for the table. One of my guiding principles of travel is that you should Do The Thing In The Place – if you’re going to go somewhere, you should try to see, eat, and do the things that people do there, if you can. That’s why you’re there, after all. This is why I enjoy going into grocery stores just as much as tourist sites when I travel. And poutine is about as Quebec as it gets when it comes to food. The problem with it, though, at least from my perspective, is that it is made up of three things that do not go together in any combination – French fries, beef gravy, and cheese curds, all of which are fine on their own but when mixed together create a dish that you can have my share of with my compliments. I did try some, because I was In The Place and this was definitely a Thing To Do There, but mostly I let the others enjoy it.

I did better with the Smoked Meat Sandwich, which is a Montreal thing but is apparently spreading throughout Quebec these days. It’s basically pastrami on rye with mustard and pickles, and it is indeed a lovely thing to have in front of you when you are hungry. I can heartily recommend a Smoked Meat Sandwich for anyone who has the opportunity to eat one.

After lunch we walked around the area for a bit thinking we might find the Quebec Parliament building, but that turned out to be a bit further away than we thought so we saved that for another day and headed back to where we’d parked the truck, because our next stop was definitely not within walking distance.

The Chute-Montmorency – Montmorency Falls, in English – is a really impressive place. You approach via a long walkway along the water as the land falls away down to the level of the river and eventually you reach a stairway where you can either go up to get to the bridge that crosses the falls at the top or you can go down a bit to get to an observation deck – one of many that they’ve helpfully scattered across the entire area. Naturally we did both. First, we went down to the deck, where you can get a really nice view of the falls themselves as well as the stairway across the river that you know you’re going to have to walk down at some point. You get a good view of the bridge as well.

From there we went back up the stairs to where we started and then continued further up until we got to the bridge over the falls. There is something to be said about being on a bridge not that far above a waterfall. It probably involves words like “insanity” and “loud,” but it has to be said that the view is amazing. A lot of people stop on the bridge to take selfies and I found myself serving as a photographer to several of them so they could all be in the shots. People are friendly up there on the bridge. In the third photo below you can see the observation deck we were on in the first set of photos.

Across the river and down to the left – a bit upstream, in other words – there’s another spot where you can take photos and generally try to take it all in.

From there we walked along a trail until we found the top of the stairs and then headed down. They’re actually really well-designed stairs, with rest areas and observation decks liberally scattered along the way so you don’t have to feel like you’re on a forced march to the center of the earth. It’s fun to stop and take it all in from the various angles as you go.

Toward the bottom there is a juncture, and you can either go to the left, toward the open water, or to the right, toward the platform at the base of the falls, which is a much wetter direction to travel. I was the only one of the group who decided to go that route, and I can confirm that it was indeed very wet. But the view was lovely.

It’s all neatly laid out here.

From there you have to get back up to where you started, but fortunately they have a little skycar that you can take.

The rest of the evening was spent back at the house, hanging out, doing laundry, scrolling and reading. We ended up getting pizza from an Iranian restaurant nearby and it was very tasty. It was a good way to wind down after a busy day.

The next day started slowly as well, as vacation days should, but eventually we got back in the pickup truck and headed back to Old Quebec City. Quebec City has a lot of fascinating architecture as you drive along – rounded corners, mid-century modern, turrets, and so forth. It is not a cookie-cutter sort of place, at least the bits we were in, and I have to say I appreciated that.

We found our parking spot by the Museum of the Plains of Abraham again and headed back up the hill toward the Citadel but our goal this morning was not actually to go to the Citadel but instead to go to the promenade nearby the Citadel. It steps down from the high point and then follows along the fort, with lovely views of the riverfront including what we eventually determined to be two Canadian Coast Guard icebreakers before descending slowly toward the river level though we stopped well before we got all the way down.

And at that point you’re back at the Hotel Frontenac. All roads in Quebec City lead to the Hotel Frontenac. There was an acrobat act plying its trade in front of the statue by the hotel and we watched that for a bit before moving on.

Old Quebec City is a very nice if very steep place to walk around and there are a great many places that cater to the sorts of tourists that we were. We found one about halfway down the stairs in the second photo that sold a wide variety of syrups and maple-based alcoholic beverages which were surprisingly tasty so I bought a very small bottle of something I could take home to The Land of the Free without falling afoul of the volumes of rules and regulations that we accept without question these days, I suppose. I did make it home with the bottle intact and at some point I will have to open it in good company.

We had lunch at an Italian restaurant before heading down to the river and hanging out by the cannon that were helpfully guarding the shoreline.

Rather than walk back up to the upper city we found the funicular and took that. I’ve been on a bunch of these now – Quebec City, Dubuque, Pittsburgh, Porto – and they’re always fascinating to me. Not sure why, since the principles they operate on are dead simple. But even so.

From there we continued our way into the city, stopping at a coffeeshop for refreshment and a bookstore because one should always stop at bookstores.

Our final stop of the day was to walk over to the Quebec Parliament building, which was much more accessible from that location than it had been the previous day. It’s an impressive thing, and you have to through a number of layers of security before they issue you a little clippy badge and point you to the elevator. Right by one of the checkpoints is a big sign warning you of the various things you can’t bring in with you and I was amused by the fact that the Québecois phrase for brass knuckles (which they translated into English as “knuckle duster,” a phrase that no American has spoken since Calvin Coolidge left office) is “Poing Américain.” We’re known for our brass knuckles in Quebec, apparently.

It’s a grand sort of building in many ways and utilitarian in others, but it was fun to walk around.

Down one hallway they have a long row of portraits of former prime ministers of Quebec, my favorite of whom was this guy:

There is no other language this man could possibly speak aside from either Québecois or continental French. You could practically smell the Galois on his trench coat. Honestly, I was surprised that this was a former prime minister and not a weary homicide detective with three cups of coffee in him, an ex-wife in Toronto, and a commanding officer trying to get him to take some leave even though he feels he needs to crack this case before he goes. It was the most wonderful formal portrait of a government official I have ever seen.

Back at the house we made dinner for ourselves while hanging out and generally not doing much besides slowly starting to pack up for the next day’s journey back to Montreal, and thus a lovely day comes to an end.

Our Trip to Canada: Exploring Quebec City, Part 1

We didn’t spend all of our time in Montreal, though we could have. We’ve got a list of things in Montreal that we plan to do and/or see the next time we’re there, after all. It’s a fun city to visit, even if I don’t speak the language.

When we were planning this trip I would tell people that we were going to Montreal and they’d say, “But you don’t speak French!” which was a mystifying thing to say. “Neither do they,” I’d reply. “Ask any Parisian.” It is true that Québecois is the default language in Montreal, but it is also true that if you greet people with “bonjour!” and then politely ask if they speak English, pretty much everyone will switch over to something I can understand and I was grateful for that fact. What can I say? Between being hopelessly monolingual and being utterly incapable of comprehending a beverage of less than 20 ounces (with free refills), I’m pretty easy to spot as an American.

Québecois is also the default language in Quebec City, oddly enough. I KNOW! Says so right on the tin. And the people there were similarly willing to indulge an American visitor’s linguistic shortcomings, so it turned out well for me.

Geoff and Dave picked us up at our hotel for the 3.5-hour drive to Quebec City, which I was convinced was south of Montreal until I finally looked at a map and discovered that no it’s very much not. It is in fact the furthest north I have ever been on the North American continent, surpassing my previous record of Bayfield, Wisconsin by one minute of latitude according to the quick internet search I just did. It’s still a long way south of Stockholm, my overall record, but it felt like a victory anyway. You need to take the wins when you find them in these parlous times.

It was a grey rainy day, but the drive went smoothly and the scenery flowed by.

At some point we stopped for gas and I wandered into the attached convenience store where I ended up having a lovely conversation with the clerk – Marie-Loup, according to her nametag – and another customer, who did not have a nametag at all, though in fairness neither did I. Marie-Loup immediately clocked me as a visitor and asked about our time in Quebec, which spiraled out into a lot of different things. It’s nice to have these moments with strangers, I think. Marie-Loup is a woman of strong opinions forthrightly expressed. She pointed out the bags of cheese curds for sale and I told her that as a Wisconsin resident I was familiar with such things, and then she looked at me very seriously and warned me against putting them in the refrigerator. “It ruins them!” she said. She also noted that I was buying a bag of ketchup-flavored potato chips – a surprisingly tasty Canadian specialty that I stumbled across last summer – and let me know that Miss Vicky’s was the brand to beat for those. They did not have them at the little shop, but later I bought a bag and you know what? Marie-Loup was spot on. They are indeed the brand to beat.

We got to Quebec City well before we were allowed to check in to the house we’d rented for the next few days, so we found a place to park in the downtown area by the river and headed up into the city. And I do mean up – the place is built on a bluff and you spend a lot of time going up and down, far more so than Montreal and almost as much as Porto. The bluff is in fact part of Quebec City’s historical claim to fame, a critical factor in how the struggle between the English and French turned out during the Seven Years War. Short version: the French defenders figured nobody would be insane enough to try to climb that bluff directly while wearing full 18th-century military kit, but it turned out the English were EXACTLY that insane and that is a good part of why Canada has Charles III on its coins these days. Having now seen from below the spot on the bluff where the English soldiers made their climb, I have to say I don’t blame the French defenders at all.

We found a pathway up toward the higher elevations – one lined with old buildings and cobblestones, and on one street marked in various places to indicate where the shoreline for the St. Lawrence River was located at different points in the city’s history. You forget that shorelines move if you don’t think about them much.

Eventually we located a winding road that led almost directly upward – around a curve, up the hill, further up some stairs, across a wooden bridge of sorts, up a few more stairs, and then out into the city proper. By that point we were at least two or three entire houses higher than the rooftops of the ones down by the shoreline.

If you take the wooden bridge back over the road you came up there’s a little space with a couple of streetlamps tied together, and you have to appreciate the goofiness of that. At the end of this series of posts there will be one on the street art in both cities, but this piece really belongs in its setting.

Eventually you get to the top, where the platform widens out into a promenade of sorts, high above the river though level with the rest of the city.

And at that point you are at the Hotel Frontenac.

According to any number of sources that we looked at prior to this trip, the Hotel Frontenac is the most photographed hotel in the world. It was built by wealthy people for wealthy people and accordingly it has a commanding view of the riverfront because that’s what wealthy people do. It is striking in itself, and because of how the city is laid out it out it tends to appear in the background of a lot of photos as well. It also has a Starbucks tucked into the side facing the promenade, and on a fairly chilly, grey, and rainy afternoon that seemed like a solid idea so we found the entrance and went inside so those who drink coffee could warm themselves up with it. There’s a little sitting area next to it that looks more like a hotel waiting room than a restaurant – probably by design – and they’re very clear that the Starbucks riffraff does not get access to the hotel proper through the connecting door. For that you have to go around the building to the main entrance.

They let anyone in the front door, though. This was actually very nice to see, given the narrow-minded bigotry so popular in the US these days. Gives one hope, it does.

We explored the lobby a bit – it’s far more elegant than anyplace I’d likely stay and even includes a few shops that I couldn’t afford. There are also tours given by costumed docents for those so inclined.

From there we headed out into the city proper, or at least the older and more visited parts of it. The old part of Quebec City has a very European feel to it, and it was a lot of fun to walk around. We found a few shops that were interesting, including Geoff’s favorite – a store that focuses on Christmas stuff year-round – and one that sold a wide variety of goods made with maple syrup. In another shop I got my keychain for Quebec City, the one souvenir I end up buying in my travels these days.

Cities look different on rainy days, and I love that fact.

On our way back to the car we ended up cutting through a fort that was apparently used for artillery at some point. We thought we’d get back to it when it was fully open for visiting but never did. Perhaps next time.

By this point it was past our check in time so we headed out to find the house where we’d be staying. You get there by following a number of increasingly smaller roads until you get to a residential area and you see the house on the corner with all the white flowers in the yard, and then you turn right and go down two blocks and there you are. Easy.

I’ve stayed in a bunch of AirB&B houses but this one is one of the few that actually felt like someone’s home that they were just letting out now and then rather than a specific purchase to rent to others. There were family photos and children’s drawings on the wall, toys neatly scattered about, and a general feeling that people actually lived there. It was a very nice place, and we took good care of it.

Our first order of business was to go grocery shopping, since we’d be there for a few days and didn’t want to go out for every meal. Fortunately, I enjoy that sort of thing, so when we found the big IGA I was very much in my element. I love going to grocery stores when I travel, seeing all the things that people in those places consider normal food – it’s never quite what I find in the groceries in Our Little Town, and that’s what makes it interesting.

I will say, however, that on this day we were not interested in cooking dinner for ourselves. A quick internet search revealed an Indian take-out place not too far from our house, so after we left the IGA we headed over. It took a bit to find it, though, because even when GoogleMaps said we were in front of it we thought to ourselves, “Nah, that can’t be right.” And yet it was.

To get to Le Jardin du Masala you have to go into a side entrance of what is, during normal business hours, an English-language high school and then follow the hand-written arrows taped to the walls to get to the school cafeteria where you will find two people working behind the counter. We got there before the rush, apparently, because if the reviews are to be believed the wait times can be significant. We did spend some time in the cafeteria looking at the various educational displays on the walls and the posters still hanging on the corkboard (including a flyer for the school’s spring play, entitled Alice’s Adventures With Poorly Cooked Cafeteria Seafood, which I would have paid money to see) before collecting our food and heading back to the house.

It was really, really good. If you find yourself in Quebec City and in the mood for Indian food, you should go. Skip the naan, but do not miss the paneer pulao.

One of the joys of traveling with family and friends is that you don’t feel pressured to do much once the day is over, so we spent the rest of the evening hanging out in the house, reading, scrolling, and in general not doing much of anything. And that’s a good thing for a vacation.

Our next day began slowly, with breakfast and general hanging out, until we drove back to the old part of Quebec City again and found a parking spot right by the Museum of the Plains of Abraham – a bit of the city that is currently under all sorts of construction, so it’s surprisingly easy to find parking because most people assume there isn’t any to be had. Let that be a lesson.

Our first goal was to get to the Citadel.

La Citadelle de Québec dates back to 1608 in one form or another, though the current incarnation was built in the second quarter of the 19th century. It remains an active military base even today, which is why you can’t just wander in and do the Tourist Thing. First you have to find the entrance, which is located at the top of a remarkably tall hill. At some point you will pass an ornately dressed guard standing in front of a small box, which is how you know that you have entered a Military Zone. Once inside the Zone you have to find the ticket platform, which looks pretty much exactly like it sounds and provides much needed shade on a sunny day. At that point you will be given a choice – you can tour the military side of the Citadel, which involves walking around the grounds and looking at all of the cannon and such, or you can take the house tour of the Governor General’s mansion, which is what the majority of our group decided was the better plan.

At that point we were introduced to Edwin, our tour guide, who told us that we were to stick with him at all times and wear the sticker they gave us to let people know we were Tourists and not spies or saboteurs. It has to be said that Edwin gave us a first-rate tour of the Governor-General’s mansion, walking us through all of the rooms where the UK’s representative in Canada would be if she were, in fact, in the country, and being exquisitely correct when using the formal titles of anyone mentioned in the tour. The mansion was one of the two attractions of the day where I didn’t really take photos, oddly enough, but I did get some of the grounds. They were very nicely kept grounds, with the names of World War I battles engraved onto the buildings and cannon scattered about here and there. In the background of the first and the last two photos below you can see the top of the Hotel Frontenac because you’re in Quebec City and of course you can.

 

[EDIT:  Kim sent me this photo of Edwin that she took inside the Governor General's mansion.  He really was an excellent docent.]

 

From there we walked to the center of the Old Town again. Quebec City has helpfully placed this reminder by the ramparts to let you know where you are, in case you forgot, and we had some fun with it on the way.

Quebec City really is a lovely place.

We ended up at the Ursuline Chapel, and had a lovely time exploring it.

By this point we were getting hungry so we found a place for lunch. It’s one of Geoff and Dave’s favorite places in Quebec City, and it has to be said that the food was tasty though it took a while for it to appear. This was also where I discovered that in Quebec the word “burger” is often used as a synonym for “sandwich,” so what I thought would be a cheeseburger turned out to be a brisket sandwich instead. As noted, it was very good. A bit of a surprise, but very good.

The restaurant was right down the street from Quebec City’s cathedral, and as dedicated church tourists we headed over and were not disappointed. It’s a lovely space, and in the back there is a museum of Quebec’s religious history that was fun to explore as well.

We made it back to the truck with minutes to spare on our parking meter, re-upped, and walked over to the Museum of the Plains of Abraham a few meters away. While the Plains are a geographical feature that has played a role in Quebec City’s history since the place was settled, the Museum focuses on the Seven Years War – the most dramatic period of that history. This is where those English soldiers emerged after climbing up the bluff, and once they’d forced the French defenders to surrender the war pretty much only had one direction left to go. You start with a short film outlining the history and then take the elevator up to the top floor to get to the museum proper. There are a lot of fascinating little displays of artifacts, artwork, and exhibits, and I’m not sure why I didn’t take any photographs but there you go. It was a worthwhile visit, and it was interesting to see it all from the Canadian and British perspective for a change.

Our evening back at the house was spent quietly. I got a lot of reading done, which was very nice since I find that at home I don’t have much focus or energy for it. Kim graded her lab reports. We hit the grocery store for some forgotten items and had a lovely dinner. We went for a walk around the neighborhood. It was a pretty area, with very few houses for sale which is always a good sign. It was a lovely way to draw the day to a close.