RAIN ON MY PARADE

Wednesday dawned drippy and dreary as we boarded the bus for our excursion to the Basilica of Saint-Anne-de-Beaupre, about 20 miles east of QC along the St. Lawrence.  This was one attraction that I could have skipped.  The basilica is suitably massive from the outside, but not particularly graceful from the side.  The front was better.

What I didn’t care for was the gloomy interior, probably not helped by the pluie outside.  It was just too dark.  Instead of an uplifting feeling, I felt enveloped in the shadows of the main sanctuary, below left.  The brightest spot was in the basement, where there is the smaller Immaculate Conception Chapel, complete with its own organ, that is colorful and bright (below, upper right).  Topside, there is this bizarre statue that is the foundation of the church.  To me, it looked surreal, with its flanking pair of “Close Encounters” spaceship chandeliers and sunburst rays.

This is Sainte Anne, the mother of the Virgin Mary (who knew?), and the original chapel, started in 1658, was built to house the statue.  During its construction, a bricklayer named Louis Guimont claimed he was cured of his rheumatism after setting only three stones. The flood was on.  Since then, all sorts of miracles of healing are attributed to her, and thus this church became a mecca for pilgrims seeking cures.  It gets about 500,000 hopefuls each year.  No track record is posted.  St. Anne also is the patron saint of Quebec.  Behind the statue is a small chapel.  A bone relic of Saint Anne is displayed here; it was given to the shrine by Pope John XXIII.  DNA testing, anyone? 

The first church on this site fell by the wayside long ago, and was replaced by a basilica in 1876, alas built of wood.  It burned down in 1922 (so much for miracles), and the current basilica was opened in 1926.  There are some neat things inside, like these beautiful carved doors and the mosaics.  There were about a dozen of the craft mosaics, each one depicting a trade that was common in the area at the time they were made;  the other series depicts the various sins.  So, the top one represents the shipping industry, and the bottom one depicts the vice of vanity (note the mirror and the adornments spilling out of the chest).  These really were quite nice, and I was surprised that you could walk all over them.

Full of fervor, but still hauling our uncured aches and pains around, we got on the coach for our lunch destination, the Parc de la Chute-Montmorency.  What’s a chute?  Why, a waterfall, of course, and this one reached by a gondola ride.  Check out that bridge across the top of the falls.  We crept across it after lunch.

We boarded our cabine on the telepheerique.  Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

 

They really packed us in, on step platforms for easier viewing.  I was doing mental weight calculations.

Mom and Loni contemplated their fate, but we made it OK.  See the bridge in the background?  That’s the one we took over to the island on the far side where we had the maple dinner.  

Once up, we hustled straight into the Manoir Montmorency, a nifty looking place that housed a top restaurant.

The food lived up to the billing.  We both had the duck confit, and the desserts weren’t too shabby.

The lunch really was excellent.  Afterwards, we set out through the mist and drizzle on the path to the bridge over the falls.  Mom, ever the trouper, chugged right along.

At the bridge, the wind and the rain kicked up, adding to the, uh, experience.

The falls first flow smoothly over a sort of dam structure, then plunge freely straight down the rock face some 83 meters (about 272 feet, higher than Niagara!).

We didn’t take the telepheerique down, as the bus took the long way around and came up to get us.  Back to QC, where we had the afternoon free to wander about the old city in the rain.  Even in the wet it was beautiful.

Dinner tonight was to be on our own, so as we walked around we scouted menus posted outside the restaurants.  Some were eye-popping in their prices, but we found this place that looked good just a block and a half from our hotel.  The Café de la Paix (café of the peace).

Now, eventually, we got a pretty nice meal here, but yee gods did it take forever.  We ate downstairs, which was elegant and cozy.  What we didn’t know was that there were two big parties upstairs that had been seated just before us, and another large group down on our level.  We got water and menus.  And for over half an hour, that was it.  The waiters just kept avoiding eye contact and never came back.  I finally hailed the maitre d’ and asked why we were being ignored.  He took offense, and said we were not being ignored, but that he had three large parties to deal with all at once.  This was all in French, but we got the gist.  A couple behind us, who had gotten as far as salad but no further, called it quits and loudly demanded the bill . . . several times.  The Md’ was exasperated, but they paid for what they had, and left.  I guess he figured this might start a trend, because we began getting our courses, albeit with long pauses in between.  Fortunately, the food was very good, especially my vegetable pasta, which had wonderful herbs and rich flavor.  Loni loved her primavera.  Actually worth the wait.

Quebec City was great.  It had the feel of French country towns, and a lot of good food.  Maybe someday we’ll go back.  Au revoir!