“By car?” The person across the table from me has a look of naked scepticism mixed with a touch of disdain plastered across his face.
“With the kids?!” His spouse’s visage is contorted in a mask of abject horror.
I have just told them my plan to travel from Toronto to Halifax and back with a ten year old and an eight year old in the back seat of my wife’s brand new Infiniti JX35 SUV (it’s a pretty sweet ride for a long journey).
If the thought of spending three weeks on the road with your family triggers heart palpitations, I invite you to join me virtually on this first in a multi-part series exploring the fantastic wonders of Canada’s Eastern provinces (sorry Newfoundland; I’m saving you for a solo visit all to yourself).
21 days
5602 kilometers
4 Provinces
69 hours and 32 minutes of driving
0 “Are we there yet’s”
Quebec City
The clack-clack of hoofs on cobblestone streets. A steady thrum of conversation in French. Fairytale castles of wood and stone from a bygone age. Had I travelled nine hours by plane, this could be any enchanting European destination. Remarkably, having journeyed for the same amount of time by car, I still find myself in a world so unlike my home in Toronto that I might as well have flown across the ocean.
The skyline of Old Quebec City is dominated by the imposing majesty of the Chåteau Frontenac. Its copper spires pierce the city hilltop just outside the fortifications of La Citadelle de Québec. The fortress and its accompanying battlements tell the story of the three-hundred-year-old violent tug-of-war between the British and the French. With the jewel of Quebec City ultimately wrested from the French by the British, further defensive enhancements focussed on repelling a possible American invasion. I drink in the complex and fascinating history while my kids entertain themselves by clambering over canons, interacting with the soldiers of the famed Vandoo regiment and engaging in a little mock archeology as they unearth replica artifacts from a reconstructed latrine site.
Old Quebec’s charms are best appreciated on foot, meandering through the narrow stone streets, weaving past colourfully dressed buskers while following the wafting scent of a particularly pungent poutine. I set up shop in the heart of the upper town at the Hôtel Clarendon – completed in 1927 and situated beside Old Quebec’s only skyscraper (a 1930s art deco marvel, The Price Building), the hotel is itself a key stop on city tours.
After a long day hiking the city’s hills and valleys, it’s a pleasure to be a mere two blocks from our dinner reservation in Quebec City’s oldest home. Aux Anciens Canadiens dates back to 1675 and is now a warren of semi-private dining rooms. Tasteful renovations maintain the old-world soul of the building while adding a nod and a wink to modern sensibilities such as flatscreen TVs tuned to the flurry of activity going on in the restaurant’s kitchen. The walls are dotted with 18th century muskets, farm implements and kitchen tools. We pass the time awaiting our entrées by studying a framed collection of brass keys beside our table. The fare is classic French Canadian: game meats, garden vegetables and seafood preparations, all redolent with the thick, steamy smells of hearty sauces and stock. After the main course, we indulge in a sampling of maple syrup desserts – I engage in some heated fork swordsmanship with the kids, parrying attacks on my maple syrup pie between mouthfuls of deliciously burnt crème brûlée.
With my hunger for history satiated — literally and figuratively — I seek out a change of pace for our next day. Just a few minutes outside of the city’s downtown we marvel at Montmorency Falls – a massive cascade of torrential water that stands higher than its more famous cousin, Niagara Falls. In less than half an hour, as I hike the wooded forest trials of Canyon St. Anne, the congested city streets are a distant memory. My youngest daughter races back and forth across a swaying suspension bridge giggling maniacally while my wife and eldest daughter fight back nausea as we look down 74 metres at the raging gorge below.
Safely back on solid ground, we make a stop on our return drive at the imposing Saint Anne de Beaupré basilica. Constructed in 1923 to replace the previous chapel, which had been destroyed by fire, the building is an awe-inspiring mix of stone and stained glass that rivals the great churches of Europe. A jumble of canes and crutches are lashed to the entrance columns as evidence of Saint Anne’s miraculous power to heal visitors.
My final day in Quebec City is a smorgasbord of attractions and activities. Walruses, sea lions, polar bears and jellyfish entertain us at the Aquarium du Québec before we travel down into the lower city’s labyrinth of cafés and art galleries. As night begins to fall, throngs of people spill into Quebec’s open port lands, jockeying for position under the stars to catch this evening’s performance of Les Chemins Invisibles. At this open-air Cirque du Soleil production, unimaginable feats of human creativity are given physical form. We sit on the stone steps gobsmacked that a show, which rivals Cirque’s mega productions in Las Vegas, performed using a series of mobile cranes and forklifts that pirouette and sashay amongst the audience, could be offered nightly for free.
Exiting the show, a bright crescent moon hovers in the cloudless sky over the Chåteau — the perfect backdrop to the explosive pyrotechnics that burst over the St. Lawrence River. It is a fitting send off to Quebec City’s balanced blend of old-world European charm, natural adventure and modern cultural playground.
Edward Prutschi is a Toronto-based criminal defence lawyer. Follow Ed’s criminal law commentary (@prutschi) and The Crime Traveller’s adventures (@crimetraveller) on Twitter, read his Crime Traveller blog, or email ed@thecrimetraveller.com.
Travel assistance provided by Tourism Quebec.