"I hope it rains soon so we can go in the pool.鈥�
We鈥檙e walking down a street in one of the most interesting and beautiful cities in sa国际传媒, and my six-year-old daughter is interested only in the tiny swimming pool in a dank, close, windowless basement room back at the hotel.
After she and her eight-year-old sister bugged me relentlessly, I had finally told them that warm July morning in Quebec City that if it started raining, we would go back and swim in the pool.
That might have been a mistake.
We had to distract them. Luckily, our hotel was on the edge of a hip and funky district called Saint-Roch. Centred on Rue Saint-Joseph, the old working-class and industrial neighbourhood that was once home to factories and tenement buildings has undergone extensive renovations in recent years, attracting tiny niche restaurants, bars, boutiques and coffee shops. En route to Old Town, we stopped at one of the latter for a croissant, which temporarily ended the pool talk.
I鈥檇 picked the hotel because it was within walking distance of the Old Town, but still affordable, with rooms that were large enough for all four of us. It turned out to be about a half-hour walk from the Chateau Frontenac in the heart of the Old Town, but that was perfectly OK, especially after we discovered that you could take an elevator 鈥� an elevator! 鈥� from our district to Rue Saint-Jean in the upper Old Town. And there was a lot to see en route.
We strolled past clusters of people talking and smoking on the sidewalk, others parked in chairs on their stoops, passing the time of day with neighbours, and several odd little restaurants tucked into nooks and crannies, including one intriguingly called L鈥橝ffaire Est Ketchup 鈥� at night, these were often crammed and you had to wait for a table. No one seemed too much in a hurry.
We had no specific plans, just a general notion of taking in the atmosphere of this significant cradle of our nation鈥檚 history. Given the kids鈥� ages, I wasn鈥檛 sure how much of it was going to stick, but the goal was to at least kindle their imaginations. And Quebec City certainly offers plenty of opportunities for that.
Here are some highlights:
鈥� We took a tour of Lower Town led by a young man playing the role of an 18th-century merchant. The kids weren鈥檛 exactly captivated, despite interesting details such as the fact raw sewage once ran down the cobblestone street where we were walking.
The tour guide had their full and undivided attention, however, when he and another guide stopped to show us, in detail, how to load and fire a cannon.
The kids ended up spending a fair amount of time climbing over the plentiful cannons we discovered in Vieux-Quebec, turning lethal weapons into fun playground equipment.
鈥� We climbed up the governors鈥� steps near the Ch芒teau Frontenac, admiring the spectacular view of the St. Lawrence River (and trying to picture the British creeping up the river on the darkest of moonless nights for their sneak attack on the French), to check out the Citadel and Plains of Abraham. The latter mostly just looks like a big park, so I soon gave up trying to teach my children about the battle in 1759 between the British and French forces that decided the fate of our country.
Instead, we headed back in the direction of Rue Saint-Jean for dinner, passing the Quebec National Assembly building, which had a beautiful and lush vegetable garden out front, planted in 2013.
We stopped near the fountain and flower gardens to watch as a group of young men on seatless bicycles performed tricks involving 鈥渏umping鈥� their bikes up and over a concrete wall, while a compatriot filmed the whole event for immediate posting to YouTube.
Silly tricks on YouTube unite the 鈥渢wo solitudes鈥� at last.
鈥� We were standing on the expansive Dufferin Terrace in front of the Ch芒teau Frontenac when we noticed glass portals beneath our feet. It turns out the foundations of the original governor鈥檚 residence had been discovered during excavation work in 2005.
Archeologists got involved and found remains of the basements of the two Saint-Louis Ch芒teaux, along with what was left of several outbuildings.
Countless artifacts from the daily lives of governors starting with Samuel de Champlain in the 1620s 鈥� everything from broken teacups and wine bottles to centuries-old wooden toothbrushes 鈥� were found in the original latrine pits.
Parks sa国际传媒 has turned the whole works into a fascinating display, with glass cabinets displaying some of the artifacts, many of which were painstakingly reassembled, along with interactive computer displays that show how rooms such as the kitchens, pantries and ice house were originally configured. The kids can even be junior archeologists and dig in a sandbox for broken bits of pottery, which they then have to match to real artifacts in a cabinet.
鈥� I鈥檓 not a big fan of street performers, but my six-year-old would not let us pass by a clown called Monsieur Ren茅 doing his shtick outside the Ch芒teau Frontenac.
Ren茅 was not a clown in the typical red nose, large boots, silly-wig sense. He didn鈥檛 talk much, which meant his show was perfectly understandable in both official languages. He took large drinks of water, then turned his mouth into a tap that he 鈥渢urned鈥� on and off. He performed incredible juggling feats. Surprisingly, he was actually funny.
We had just made our way through crowds of people to purchase the obligatory balloon animal in the throng of vendors near the Ch芒teau Frontenac when the downpour that had been threatening all day let loose. Within seconds, we were drenched 鈥� curtains of rain swept everyone into little clusters in phone booths and under a narrow canopied alley where artists show their wares.
The cobblestones were quickly awash in little rivers that soaked our shoes.
As we huddled under the balloon man鈥檚 umbrella, trying unsuccessfully to stay dry, the girls suddenly brightened.
鈥淗ey, it鈥檚 raining,鈥� they said. 鈥淣ow can we go to the pool?鈥�
听
Getting festive in Montreal
In Montreal, our hotel was just off the Gay Village, a section of Saint Catherine Street that鈥檚 blocked off to traffic in summer, with festive pink balls strung across the street. This area of Saint Catherine is lined with outdoor seating for bars and restaurants, which turned out to be a prime viewing area for the diverse array of humanity that parades by.
Most establishments were crammed with people, but it wasn鈥檛 hard to find a little spot to park our little family to drink a Coke, eat some french fries and take in the local colour.
On the other end of Saint Catherine, the Juste pour Rire (Just for Laughs) festival was kicking off with a string of free performances.
Earlier that day, the girls had been fascinated by the families of Hasidic Jews strolling the streets of Outremont on a summer Saturday afternoon, especially the men with their long curling sideburns, called sidelocks, shtreimel or fur hats, and heavy frock coats. In the Old Port area, we had seen Hasidic families of up to six people crowded onto quadricycles. We were even inspired to take our own turn on the quad, which turned out to be a lot harder than it looked.
En route to Outremont, we had hiked past the McGill University campus and through the cool green woods to the top of Mount Royal, where we found a piano that had been wheeled out onto the plaza in front of the 1932 chalet near the summit. A woman with a preschooler in tow dropped onto the piano bench and began playing beautifully 鈥� for about two minutes, until her son elbowed her away to plonk out his own tune.
Some other highlights of our stay:
鈥� We toured Georges Etienne Cartier鈥檚 home in Old Montreal, a National Historic Site run by Parks sa国际传媒 that is promoted as the only Victorian-style interior open to the public in Montreal. It also revealed some interesting tidbits about the personal life of this Father of Confederation, who helped lead Quebec into the Dominion of sa国际传媒.
For example, we learned that Cartier lived mostly apart from his pious wife and two daughters. Cartier had married late, and not exactly for love. He spent a lot of time away and sometimes stayed in a hotel when he was back in town. Eventually, he took a longtime mistress, Luce Cuvillier.
The Parks sa国际传媒-run museum displayed chunks of his daughters鈥� diaries, which gave my daughters a glimpse of how dull life must have been for a couple of well-off girls growing up in the mid-19th century 鈥� church, piano practice and sewing seemed to fill their days, punctuated by the odd garrison ball.
鈥� We visited the 18th-century stone Ch芒teau Ramezay, where we learned all about crime and punishment in New France in the 17th and 18th centuries, as part of a temporary exhibit. Cutouts representing actual individuals who were executed, along with details of their crimes, were displayed around one particularly engrossing room.
The exhibit explained popular torture techniques, from breaking every bone in a man鈥檚 body to hanging a woman in a cage in the town square. It was a 鈥渏ustice鈥� system that presumed guilt, not innocence, and made liberal use of iron collars, branding irons and other torture instruments. Talk about tough on crime: These guys made the Conservatives look like the John Howard Society.
For the grownups 鈥� or kids with enough patience to listen 鈥� audio histories in each room told the story of various stages in the ch芒teau鈥檚 history in six different languages, and there was even a staged scene of domestic life in 18th century Old Montreal in the thick-walled vaults of the basement. But compared with the torture room, it was dry stuff indeed.
After that, it was a relief to escape back to our happy little corner of the Gay Village, under the pink balls.
听
If you go
Accommodation: In Montreal, we stayed at Hotel les Suites Labelle (1205 Rue Labelle), which was clean, comfortable, within walking distance of Old Montreal and close to the Berri-UQAM metro station. Our unit had a kitchen, which helped us save on restaurant meals. Rates start at about $139 a night, including breakfast.
In Quebec City, we stayed at the Hotel du Nord (640 St-Vallier Ouest), which was within walking distance of where we wanted to go and had very friendly and helpful staff. It鈥檚 also across the street from the huge outdoor-adventure store Latulippe, which proved very handy when our eight-year-old suddenly outgrew her shoes.
The pool, incidentally, turned our kids鈥� hair green. Rates start at about $149, including breakfast.
Food: I鈥檓 always on the lookout for places that hit that sweet spot of affordability, food quality and ambiance. Here are a few options that made the cut for us, and had that extra je ne sais quoi that said 鈥淚 am not in English sa国际传媒 now鈥�:
鈥� In Old Montr茅al, Titanic (445 Rue St-Pierre) is a great little lunch spot in a busy but airy basement space with lots of natural wood and good-quality food.
鈥� In Old Upper Town of Quebec City, Chez Temporel (25 Rue Couillard) is a nice little two-storey breakfast and lunch bistro on a pretty side street with excellent food and good coffee in bowls. Another place that鈥檚 worth trying, especially if you have kids, is Paillard Caf茅-Boulangerie (1097 Rue St-Jean), a big, bright, high-ceilinged busy space where you get your gourmet sandwich, soup and pastries and eat at long wooden tables, elbow-to-elbow with the locals.
