I have to admit to being surprised at how pervasive the French language is in Quebec. I was prepared, at the very least, for it to be bilingual, but was astounded to see that all the advertising, road signs, and assumptions from those you were speaking to were that French would be understood.
I had though only Quebec City itself would be an outpost of French culture, but even Montreal, our first stop in Canada after Europe, was proud of its heritage. Understandably so as it is the site of the first settlement of New France, back in the early 17th century. We were staying in an area called Sud-Ouest, home to Atwater Market, a massive affair set in a historic building set on Lachine Canal. The canal is an historic waterway which is still lined by the shells of the factories and warehouse buildings, some of which have been repurposed into housing, either private or social. As well as being flanked by ribbons of parkland, the great thing about the canal is the continuous bike path which runs its length. We had a ‘bixi’ bike share station near us allowing us a great way to get around..if the other stations had space. We made the mistake of riding to the market on early on Saturday morning, only to find the station there full, and the next one, and the next one too so we had to ride home and then walk back.
We stocked up on a bunch of local produce, including fiddleheads – the bright green unfurled ends of fern fronds which looked great, but which probably are best cooked by the Quebecois who know what to do with them..they turned black and slimy and decidedly unappetising when we tried to cook them.
Montreal has an old town which resembles any European city in appearance and age, and after a brief wander through that we hit the waterfront, again by bixi/ The waterfronthas been recently upgraded as public parkland as a lot of the industry had moved away. What still is there are some massive grain silos which loom over one corner of the area, beautiful in there size and repetitive facade and are a great counter to the shininess of the rest of the foreshore.
We also took a hike up Mont Royal. Most of the city is fairly flat but Parc Mont Royal looms up as a green behemoth as a backdrop to the town. It was a Sunday when we went there, we got to see the ‘tam-tams’, crowds of people gathered in area on the edge of the park at the base of the mountain. Every week, there are all sorts of different groups gather in a rowdy atmosphere – playing drums, conducting protests, having parties, picnics, and even practising tightrope walking which seems to be the latest Montreal fad. It was great to wander through it all before beginning the climb up. The park is an Olmsted design, and contains many trademarks of his such as dense forests opening into meadow areas with paths winding though them all emerging in lookouts in the higher areas. A more serene crowd was at the topmost lookout – think folk singers bus king rather than bashing tom-toms. All the same still a great vibe there, looking back over the city. Below the park is a cool neighbourhood, the Plateau-de-Mont-Royal, which is full of great bars, antique shops and hipsters.
All in all Montreal was a great place to spend a few days..a great sense of history, flat enough to cycle most places and a pretty vibrant modern population.
Driving to Quebec city, we got off the freeway as soon as we could and travelled along the Chemin de Roy, or Kings Highway, the first overland route between Quebec and Montreal. The road pretty much keeps to the north bank of the St Lawrence River and weaves through a series of smaller towns which were some of the earliest settlements in the country, each with a beautiful church as it’s centrepiece. What the tourist guides don’t tell you is that these back roads are frequented by the massive tractors which plough the adjacent fields – they’re so big that they take up both carriageways and each ends up with a string of cars behind them as they trundle along at 40km/h. Luckily the terrain is flat, and two tractors travelling in opposite directions have plenty of time to spy each other and one will find somewhere to pull over to avoid an impasse.
Our place in Quebec City was actually across the river in Levis, a small village full of white-weatherboard clad cottages dating from the early 1800s. From there we cold take a regular ferry service into Quebec. Quebec’s old town is set at the top of an imposing cliff and original city walls are still intact, along with a bunch of impossibly old buildings the most spectacular being Chateau Frontenac. You get to see all of this in elevation from the Levis side of the river, and it is a majestic sight.
The old town is great to wander around for a day just being amongst the tangible history and follow your nose from fort to citadel. There’s a still a sense of pride that seems to be evident in Quebec that it is so distinct from the rest of North American culture.
Ile d’Orleans is located in the St Lawrence River just to the east of Quebec City, and it’s reachable by La Chute de Montmorency, Canada’s highest waterfall. Although not as dramatic as Niagara Falls, it’s dramatic nonetheless and flanked by parkland in a lovely setting. Ile d’Orleans itself is oval shaped, historically divided into six parishes which are now the basis of small villages which punctuate the otherwise agricultural landscape. The island has a road running around its circumference so we did a loop stopping at some of the farm gates and artisan stores along the way. Some of the curiosities we encountered were ice wine and ice cider, pressed while the fruit is frozen so the flavour is extremely concentrated. There was also a remnant shipyard, now derelict but beautiful in its decay.
Levis has a minor drawcard, a chocolatier has started to make choc-tops out of the various flavours they sell. The queues out the door in peak hour, and everyone who we met was at pains to ensure we knew about it and would try one before leaving. It’s a different texture to a regular choc-top: thicker and more chewy rather than the thin, crispy usual experience. It was pretty good, but at the same time it was hard to believe that people would queue for half an hour for it!
From Quebec city we drove to Cantley, near Ottawa but still in Quebec Province. Cantley is a rural area, full of small-lot farms alternating with forests one of which is owned by Rachel’s Canadian relatives. We were staying at a cottage owned by the family on the edge of the Gatineau River in a magic spot, perched over the water set amongst maple and fir trees. The occasional chipmunk would flash past and at night deer would come out to feed. We heard that bears would occasionally be seen feeding on the farms, but alas we didn’t see any of them.
Directly across the river from Cantley is Parc Gatineau, a national park full of ski trails which are used for hiking and mountain biking so we went over for a bushwalk. This must be where I managed to get a tick on my leg, so instead of getting in to spend a day around Ottawa, we ended up spending a few hours in the waiting room of a clinic to get it removed, so we only had time for a quick visit to visit the Museum of Canadian Civilisation of which Rach’s uncle was director for a number of years.
Rach’s family is quite into their food, the highlights being homemade cupcakes with fresh nectarine cut on top, pankakes (with berries and maple syrup, of course) for breakfast, and gumbo, a creole style stew with chilli/smoky flavour. We sure were well looked after in Cantley, and it was such a great place to hang out for a couple of days. Tick aside, it was totally relaxing.
