Bidding a reluctant farewell to Ottawa, we got onboard for the trek to Quebec City, the jewel of old French Canada. Again, not much in the way of scenery on the way up. Spring is still around the corner in these parts, so the trees are still leafless and drab for the most part. Our first stop was our religious fix of the day, the Sanctuaire Notre-Dame-Du-Cap in Trois Rivieres. For being in the middle of nowhere, this was a pretty impressive place. That’s not it in the pic above. That’s just a teaser.
The first Jesuit missionaries arrived in this region in 1634, and the first chapel (wood) on this site was begun in 1659. It no longer exists, but was replaced by the first stone parish church in the region, which was inaugurated in 1714. Now called the Old Shrine, it is one of the oldest churches in Canada. We were given a tour by the kindly old gent below, who had everyone straining to hear him with his soft voice. A sacristy was added in 1879. That unembellished stone exterior hides a beautifully light, domed interior featuring the statue of Our Lady of the Cape, set above the alter, which was donated by a parishioner in 1854. In 1888, at the dedication of an annex for additional pews, a Franciscan friar and two witnesses claim to have seen the statue open its eyes. Mother Church, ever eager to seize on the miraculous (or incredulous), sent Pope Pius X’s delegate in 1904 to crown the statue, and the same service was performed in 1954 by Pope Pius XII’s delegate, after the statue had made a viewing trip throughout Canada.
The present basilica, which is absolutely huge, was built over the course of nine years and completed in 1954. In can seat over 1600, and the dome rises 125 high. Remember, this church is out in the sticks. Where do the faithful come from?
Anyway, there are no interior columns in the thing. Unlike classical cathedrals, it is entirely a dome supported by the exterior walls structure. I was quite impressed.
If Spring had sprung, the grounds would have been quite lovely, as there are lots of paths, pools, statuary, etc. They even had a (free!) RV park. Donations accepted, of course, but for a site right on the river, it couldn’t be beat.
From here we went on to Quebec City proper, entering the old walled city (Vieux Quebec)through this original gate, the Porte Saint-Louis.
Running through it is the main drag into the old town, the Rue Saint-Louis. It leads straight to our hotel just down around the far corner.
The hotel is the edifice on the hill in the first photo in this post, called the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac.
It claims to be the most photographed hotel in the world. I’m not surprised. Photogenic is not sufficient praise. It sits high on the bluff overlooking the St. Lawrence, and is spectacular from every angle.
We spent only an hour checking in and getting our bags to the room before it was time to board the bus for our trip to dinner at the Restaurant les Ancetres, which lies on the Ile d’Orleans in the middle of the Saint Lawrence River --- the Fleuve Saint-Laurent to you francophiles. The Ile lies northeast of the City, and is accessible only by boat or the one long bridge that we crossed. The Restaurant was adapted from an old farmhouse, and sits on the crest of the hills forming the island.
The views are pretty nice looking down the mountain across to the northern bank of the St. Lawrence, and of the bridge we took to get here. The old barn is one of the outbuildings.
The interior was a bit of a mashup, with original walls, windows, and beams from the farmhouse, coupled to a newer addition to expand the dining space and create the porch (above left). Nothing mashuppy about the food, which was very good. Mom’s having a good time, despite not being able to follow the conversation in a crowded room. If you’re wondering, we are eating a lot of salmon, but that’s because we usually opt for the fish option when offered. There was plenty of meat as well.
Next morning, we were hard at it again, breakfasting at a local diner which I’m sure was much less expensive than the Frontenac’s dining room. Adequate, not great. I hate ordering breakfast from three fixed choices.
Today was our day to have a guide for our on-off bus tour of the city. Unfortunately, she was one of those “in period” types that dresses out of the past and torments you by staying “in character.” I’ve said it before, I loathe this kind of stuff, and nice as she was, she was no exception. I tried to wander off to take pictures as much as I could. Our first stop was the Quebec Parliament building located on the Place de l’Assemblee Nationale. It has a number of statues set in alcoves all over the front of the building. The one noted is of Marie de l'Incarnation /Marie Guyart /Guyard (1599-1672), a nun who was pretty amazing, for her time or any other. She emigrated from Tours, France, leaving behind her 11 year-old-son (from a pre-nunnery marriage), founded a girl’s school that still exists today, wrote umpteen thousand letters home that today form the best accounting of daily life in that era, and wrote three dictionaries of the languages of local Indian tribes, including the Algonquins and the Hurons. The hand points to her statue on the building.
One stop was a favorite of Loni and Mom. Fortunately, they were just looking. We stopped at another market, which was pretty small and not worth the effort. Gas, I noted, was more expensive than in the states. That’s the price per liter on the sign, so roughly multiply that times 4 to get the /gal. amount. U.S. prices don’t look so bad after all.
Our last stop of the day was at the old city below the walls (and below the hotel). QC was founded in 1608 by good old Samuel de Champlain, and was the center of New France in the 17th & 18th centuries. In 1620, he built Fort Saint-Louis on top of Cape Diamond near the present site of the Hotel Frontenac. Down below, over the centuries, the part of the old city below the walls near the river took shape.
including the oldest pedestrian shopping street in the Americas, started in 1689:
We traipsed over the cobblestones to other areas, including this collection of four buildings that represented the four “permissible” colors of classic roofs of the old city. Ideally, the city would like all roofs to be one of these, but we saw a lot that had other hues. These colors were supposed to represent traditional roofing materials: wood dyed with oxblood, slate shingles, tin/zinc, and thatch.
The end of the building to the extreme left of the picture bore a huge mural that was pretty neat, populated with historic and modern figures.
Looking back towards the square which holds the four roof buildings, we can see the little church that faces the square.
This completed the tour, so we looked for a place to eat that wouldn’t break the bank. We found a sandwich shop that advertised a “croque monsieur,” which in France is a sort of flattened panini-type sandwich of ham and cheese, sometimes dusted with powdered sugar and served with some fruit preserves. Really good. Well, I had to rate this as the worst meal we had in all of Canada. What I got was an open-faced glop of a paper-thin slice of ham and a mass of rubbery cheese, drenched in tomato sauce! Sacre bleu! It was awful, and bore no resemblance whatsoever to a c-m.
Heading back, we passed what I thought was the prettiest restaurant front I’d ever seen, and one of the grossest shop names (reminiscent of one we saw in Buenos Aires).
Mom didn’t feel like tackling all the stairs up the “cape” to the hotel, so we hopped on the handy (and steep) funicular.
Once up top there was a great view across the river to the other side, including a look-down on some Canadian Coast Guard ships.
Woof. A long day of walking. It wasn’t only Mom that was fagged out.
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