« And About My Photoblog... | Main | Your Quebec Weather Forecast »
October 7, 2004
Quebec Froid
The taxi stand was deserted. A raw drizzle blew across the parking lot to where we were standing along the curb, as we wondered why there wasn't a single taxi at Quebec's airport. We certainly weren't alone in our puzzlement; several businessmen who accompanied us on our morning flight from Montreal waited impatiently with their briefcases, clearly irked by the lack of transportation.
It wasn't the most auspicious start to our short Canadian vacation, but we didn't want it to get us down. After 15 minutes or so, we managed to find our own taxi; a large, middle-aged gentleman who spoke English with a heavy French accent. He didn't seem to know exactly where our hotel was, so he flipped through his street map as we waited at each stop light, until he gained the confidence to guide us safely to our accommodations.
By 10:30am, the taxi drove through St. Louis Gate, our entryway into the walled city of Quebec. In the distance we could just make out the roof of Chateau Frontenac, Quebec's most famous landmark. Before the view of the grand hotel improved, though, we veered left on Rue St. Ursule, where we found Hotel Acadia, our home for the next two nights.
The rain had stopped by the time we exited the taxi, which was good news, since we wouldn't have much of an opportunity to lounge at the hotel. Check-in wasn't until 3pm, still more than four hours away, so after we stowed our bags in a luggage closet, we found ourselves back outside, wondering exactly what we should do next.
Susanne and I were both quite hungry; we'd left our apartment in Brookline just after 5am without a proper breakfast, and received only light snacks on our flights to Montreal and Quebec. I suggested we walk towards Place D'Armes, in the heart of Old Quebec's Upper Town, to see if we could find a cozy breakfast cafeto warm our bones and fill our stomachs. We followed Rue St. Louis towards Chateau Frontenac, passing several French bistros and Italian restaurants, all of which might serve as candidates for dinner tonight.
In less than 10 minutes, we were standing along the southern edge of Place D'Armes, a tree-lined square with a large water fountain in its center. Just to our right, Chateau Frontenac loomed high above us, casting a giant shadow over the square. The square sloped at a sharp angle, leading downhill to a row of shops and cafes. We quickly found a cute restaurant with a rather diner-like interior, including green booths and middle-aged waitresses. It was the perfect place for an omelette and cafe au lait.
Having finished brunch, we walked west along Rue St. Anne for just a few yards until reaching a sloping alley packed with artist stalls. They were hawking watercolors and engravings of featuring Chateau Frontenac from all conceivable angles, weather conditions and seasons. The collections were also peppered with cute pictures of smiling cows, mischievous cats, and nautical scenes. One of the artists complimented Susanne on her long white knit cap, saying she should might try knitting one like it herself.
The artists' alleyway exited on Rue Buade, which we followed east for a couple of blocks until we reached Parc Montmorency, a leafy space that also served as part of city walls. We walked through the park, admiring the canons and the view of the St. Lawrence River, not to mention Chateau Frontenac, which dominated the skyline behind us. After taking a few pictures of the chateau, we hiked down a steep, winding road until reaching the top of the Break-Neck Staircase, which has served to connect Old Quebec's Upper Town and Lower Town for more than 300 years. The staircase was less steep than I would have imagined, given its melodramatic name, but the damp conditions made me grip its rail tightly nonetheless.
From the staircase, Susanne and I reached Rue du Petit Champlain, one of the most charming streets in all of Quebec. Lined with boutique shops and cafes, the cobblestone lane also happened to be the oldest street in the city. We strolled down the street, watching the sun break through the clouds for a few minutes at a time. From what I could tell, the weather was doing its best to improve for us, but the chances of this day becoming no-jacket weather seemed extraordinarily slim. If we were lucky, perhaps we'd be able to keep our umbrellas sheathed for the rest of the day.
The boutique shops provided a brief respite from the outside chill; the kitchenware shop was particularly charming, with a fine collection of French crockery in blue, white and yellow, with checkered tablecloths to match. Back outside, the street was getting crowded with tourists; despite the undesirable weather, visitors from the US and Japan managed to make the street feel downright claustrophobic after a while. Eventually, we backtracked a few blocks then veered to the right until we reached Place Royal, the cobblestone square that marks the spot where Champlain founded Quebec just shy of 400 years ago.
On the southern side of the square, we entered Notre Dame Des Victoires church, the oldest church in Quebec. Rather modest in its design, the church was a peaceful place to wander for a few minutes. Hanging high above the church pews was an 18th century model ship that had managed to survive at least one major fire. It was a remarkable model; I would have loved to have seen it from any angle besides the whale's eye view that we had from the pews below.
Walking a few blocks northeast of the square, we soon reached Musee de la Civilisation. One of the most popular museums in Quebec, it featured a range of temporary exhibits, as well as a permanent collection on Quebec's history and the First Peoples -- or Native Americans -- of the province. Since it appeared the day wouldn't get any warmer than the current chill, Susanne and I bought a pair of tickets and went exploring. The first exhibit was about the history of the Roman Empire, told from the perspective of Gallic comic hero Asterix. The exhibit was really intended for kids, so the history we learned from the displays was rather limited. The most interesting part of the exhibit was a small theatre showing Asterix cartoons. We managed to catch a cartoon short in which Asterix and his buddies managed to find themselves in ancient North America -- how or why I don't quite understand -- and encountered an evil, dastardly Native American medicine man who threatened to torture one of them unless they gave up their secret magic motion. Given the fact that part of the museum was dedicated to the cultural diversity of Quebec's indigenous First Peoples, we were shocked by the racist nature of the cartoon. It reminded me of the anti-Japanese Bugs Bunny cartoons that you rarely see any more. But this was like showing those cartoons while an exhibit about Hiroshima and Nagasaki was in the gallery upstairs.
Thoroughly baffled by the exhibit, we moved on to a grand retrospective on the history of sand. Yep, sand. Actually, it was more interesting than it sounds: they had a laboratory set up with stereoscopic microscopes so you could examine samples of beautiful sand samples from all over the globe. There was also a strange performance art exhibit in which beach deck chairs were set up in front of a giant cloth screen, showing fuzzy, crudely animated videos of beaches from around the world while painfully minimalist jazz played over a PA system. Amazingly, we laid down on the deck chairs and watched this for at least 20 minutes, part hypnotized and part hysterical from the oddity of it.
We briefly skated through a couple other exhibits before leaving the museum for a cellar bar whose name was something like Mon Oncle Antoine. The interior was dark, dank, smoky and cozy -- the perfect place for a pint and a bowl of vegetable soup. The only downside to the bar was that everyone there seemed to be from the USA. Come to think of it, practically everyone we'd encountered exploring Old Quebec appeared to be from south of the border. Hopefully we'd be able to stumble upon some hole-in-the-wall joint in which everyone else was speaking French and chainsmoking, for a complete 360 Quebecois experience.
Before we knew it, I realized it was almost 3pm, which meant we could finally check into our room. Susanne hadn't slept well the previous night and was eager to nap for a while, so we decided to take the steep funicular elevator back to Upper Town rather than snaking our way up the steep staircases. The funicular was packed with American and Chinese tourists; one of the Chinese women mysteriously told me, ãDo not touch glass,ä despite the fact that I was standing there with my hands in my pockets. Susanne later commented that maybe she was just afraid of heights or elevators and was trying to make some nervous conversation.
Before heading back to the hotel, we made a quick stop at Chateau Frontenac. The interior was beautiful, with dark wood and marble in every direction. We asked about whether they had high tea during the afternoons, in case we wanted to come by tomorrow, but soon discovered that they only offered it during the summer.
Leaving the chateau, Susanne and I walked west on Rue St. Louis, checking out some of the restaurants for dinner later that night. One Italian restaurant, Conti Caffe, had a nice menu, but I offered to scout around while she napped back at the hotel. Returning to the Acadia, Susanne promptly went to sleep for 90 minutes, giving me time to check email and explore the neighborhood. I'd hoped to find a quite cafe to get a cup of coffee, perhaps doing some journal writing on my laptop. But as luck would have it, I managed to walk a 45-minute circuit around the one part of Quebec's Upper Town that seemed to lack any cafes or bars -- or at least ones that were open late in the afternoon. I did, however, stumble upon the Inuit Art Gallery, which my mom had recommended highly. I spent a while exploring its incredible collection of Inuit statues: polar bears, eagles, walruses and an assortment of other animals in poses both fanciful and mystical. In one corner of the gallery, I overheard a couple haggling over a trio of pint-sized statues; the gallery wanted $2000 for them while the couple pushed for $1800. I guess I wasn't going to be making any purchases that day.
Eventually, I returned to the hotel and jumped in the shower to warm up as best as possible. Susanne, in the meantime, woke up and was wondering what I had in mind for dinner. It was still rather early by Gallic eating standards -- well before 7pm -- but the restaurants were filling up with Americans, and we didn't have any reservations anywhere. Fortunately, we managed to get one of the last unreserved tables over at Conti Caffe. The food there was delicious -- French onion soup followed by grilled halibut in a sweet salsa with purple mashed potatoes. The fish portions weren't huge, but the soup had done a fine job priming us for the main course, so by the time dessert came around, we were barely capable of finishing a small cr_me caramel shared between us.
We left the cafe and strolled back to the hotel. It wasn't particularly late but we were both exhausted from having to wake up at 4:30am this morning. So we settled in to watch the Simpsons in French and a few other US programs, falling asleep before Sam Waterston was able to convict the bad guy.
Posted by acarvin at October 7, 2004 10:53 PM
Listen to a computer-generated podcast of this article
