Seven days in Quebec

I knew immediately that Quebec was French, the taxi driver drove like a mad-man.

The historic upper and lower quarters of Quebec City exude history and charm, the people are much the same. Overlay Vancouver's easy pace with French je ne sais quoi and that's the essence of the City and Province of Quebec.

The Quebecois cling passionately to their heritage. Every other exhibit and plaque recounts how the French discovered Quebec, lost it to the British/English and got the city back. Conveniently ignoring the fact that the Brits got it back once again then distracted by revolting Americans to the south made a strategic decision not to make the French settlers adopt English customs - probably
to the everlasting regret of the rest of Canada, though to the fascinated delighted of us tourists. Had this truly been France then preening tour guides would have continually reminded us how "we beat you English", on such occasions it is fortunate that nowadays we can describe ourselves as "Australian".

With commanding views of the Saint Lawrence River from its battlements it is easy to understand Quebec's strategic importance on the North American trade routes from the Atlantic to the cities of the Great Lakes. Whilst the fortified city walls hark back to pioneering days the skyline is dominated by the magnificent Château Frontenac Hotel, a legacy of the great days of the transcontinental railway. The château's pleasing juxtaposition of French Château and Scottish Baronial architecture has become synonymous with Canada's prosperity and hospitality.

Quebec is one of those cities rare in North America that can be enjoyed on foot strolling through a maze of streets seemingly laid out at random, circumventing the uniquely intact city wall or rambling across the old battlefield, now parkland, of the Plains of Abraham. The old city teems with typically French motifs: boutiques and delicatessens, cafes with tempting aromas of fresh coffee and pastries, artisan stalls and bohemian street artists. It's definitely attuned with the tourist market, yet even the nicknack shops have a degree of taste. With a few exceptions, considerable effort has obviously and successfully been made to preserve the style and allure of this World Heritage listed city. So successful that we indulge generously in local fashions and food, hoping the former still fit after too much of the latter.

A good example is our hotel. The excellent boutique Hotel du Vieux-Quebec is an eighteenth and nineteenth century building tastefully fitted out for the twenty-first century. Breakfast charmingly arrives in picnic baskets filled with fresh croissants, pastries and fruit, which we compliment with fresh coffee from the Nespresso machine thoughtfully provided in each room (must get one!). Down the hill, or for a bit of fun down the funiculaire, the Musée de la Civilisation is housed in a careful amalgamation of old and new buildings, and brings similar beauty-care to its exhibits. Consequently, the history of Quebec seems spun towards the achievements of French-Canadians with little reference to Native Americans or the British. Across town another careful compliment of the old (the prison) and new houses the Musée national des beaux-arts du Québec, which is much far more fun than its lengthy name suggests. Between the permanent and temporary exhibits Quebec art from the seventeenth century to today gives a good account of itself. Highlights include the curious and participatory world of Alfred Pellan's studio and the powerful abstract colours of the Musée's Jean-Paul Riopelle collection. Not to forget the mystery of the prison cells and David Moore's contemplative wood carving that rises through its watchtower.

After four days of Quebec culture we leave to explore the Provence as the city prepares for its biggest annual cultural event the Summer Music Festival. Though I definitely will not miss tired old Guns & Roses it would have been nice to have seen Robert Lepage's installation - that will teach me to research a little harder and earlier.

Up-country navigation was somewhat difficult as a number of roads shown on our map didn't seem to exist. Eventually we got around to reading the legend and discovered that we'd picked-up a winter map with snowmobile tracks. Winter must be pretty interesting around here if you need dedicated snowmobile routes criss-crossing the main road network. Even with a proper road map our route-finding struggles along in an unsuccessful search for an historic timber covered bridge possibly at Saint-Placide-de-Charlevoix, though we're not quite sure. Somewhere in a Canadian forest on a narrow dirt track I get stopped by the Mounties for driving on the wrong side of the road. They don't know where we're going either!

Our three day country jaunt barely scratches the surface of the spectacular scenic and culinary delights of Charlevoix and the Île d'Orléans. We follow the St Lawrence downstream to the Charlevoix region, taking the ferry across the Saguenay Fjord accompanied by a pod of Beluga whales. Later at Les Escoumins we observe a fin whale, which excites the French marine biologist at Saguenay–St. Lawrence Marine Park Visitor Centre.

In Charlevoix we make several delightful and intriguing discoveries. The Centre D'interpretation Archeo Topo makes a genuine attempt to portray life for the early settlers. The Papeterie Saint-Gilles with its extraordinary range of hand-made paper and the adjacent Musée Maritime de Charlevoix that recalls the similar level of artisan skill that goes into the making of a wooden boat. And, a truly rural bakery with outdoor oven, lean-to store and exquisite pastries; my attempt to compliment the lady baker in pidgeon-French is initially mis-understood as a chat-up line.

Which brings me conveniently to food and the Île d'Orléans, an island that thrives a good food and even better hospitality. We receive a warm, multi-lingual welcome from Philippe Rae, owner and Chef of our overnight stop the "Le Canard Huppé" Inn, where fine regional cuisine is served at a leisurely place. If only we had the time to stay a few days and work our way through Philippe's menu and selection of local beverages. With an enlarged burdened of full bellies and over-full suitcases it's time to leave Quebec for New York.