A quick stop in Quebec City, Canada
From canoeing and king tides to concrete and Quebecois hipsters: What a difference a day makes!
Ian’s and my few days in tiny, picturesque Sorrento, Maine had passed like one of those gauzy daydreams you already know you’ll replay in your mind for years to come, even as you’re living it in real time. It was jarring to emerge from the woods of northern Maine and land in the high-rise center of Quebec City in a matter of hours. I usually love exploring cities, so I was blindsided to realize I felt resentful that we’d just traded bird calls and lapping water for honking horns and car alarms.
Up until this August 2019 trip to Quebec, I had seen very little of Canada. Back when I lived in Seattle, I made the three-hour journey to Vancouver a few times and took one day trip to Victoria. I didn’t know what to expect of French Canada, having only seen the country’s most culturally British region.
My takeaway after a brief, very underplanned two days and two nights spent in Quebec City is that it’s just as culture- and architecture-rich as those British Columbia cities — but somehow lacking a special je-ne-sais-quoi.
Getting our bearings
Our Airbnb was one of the tiniest apartments I’ve ever stayed in — another jarring adjustment after four days of rattling around in a drafty four-bedroom house, just the two of us. But it had everything we needed, and it was situated in one of the city’s hippest neighborhoods, Saint-Roch. City vacations aren’t meant to be spent lolling around inside: We set down our luggage, freshened up and headed out the door.
After grabbing a quick Cambodian dinner at Bati Bassac on the very cool thoroughfare of Rue Saint-Joseph, we headed east toward the city center. Quebec City’s historic heart is a medieval tangle of streets ringed by stone fortifications dating back to the 17th century. Walking through one of the ramparts’ arched entryways, I conjured a mental image of the citadel circa 1700: cobblestone streets, armed guards around every corner, merchants hawking furs, fish and fine jewelry in storefronts and on the streets.
The city’s layout has changed little in the last 300 years, and many cobblestone roads, historical buildings and storefronts still remain. But daily life there has of course changed dramatically. With the city no longer under constant threat of siege, the armed guards are gone, replaced by street musicians and tour guides. Merchants these days tend to make more money selling maple fudge, chocolates and ice wine. And the throngs of crowds wandering down the street, mouths agape, aren’t just locals — they come from all over the world.
As the guidebooks promised, the scene before me — the crowds of tourists, the stone and brick buildings, the lively pubs around every corner — transported me back to Europe. Rue Saint-Jean looked eerily similar to Dame Street in Dublin’s famous Temple Bar neighborhood. And Place D’Armes was reminiscent of the squares I’d walked through in Koblenz, Germany, and Bratislava, Slovakia.
Dufferin Terrace, though, seemed all its own. The cliffside boardwalk offers sweeping views of the St. Lawrence River and the quaint Petit-Champlain neighborhood below. And, of course, it’s home to the city’s most iconic building, the Disney Castle-esque Fairmont Le Château Frontenac.
A forested walking trail took us around the cliff-facing side of the old fortress walls and to the Plains of Abraham, a sprawling park that was once the site of an epic battle. As the sun was setting, we wound our way back toward Saint-Roch via the ornate, uplit Parliament building, the lively neighborhood of Saint-Jean-Baptiste (where, incidentally, I’d love to stay if I ever return to the city!), and several flights of descending stairs.
Art and charm
The next morning, we decided to check out Petit Champlain, the charming and extremely French-looking neighborhood we’d seen the evening before as we gazed down from Dufferin Terrace. We were in no hurry, so we took the long way by foot, another attempt to get the lay of the land a bit more.
The area was so reminiscent of a French village that I had to keep reminding myself I was in the middle of a large North American city. The streets were lined with stone cottages adorned with cheerful shutters and flower-stuffed window boxes. While it was clear this area sees plenty of cruise ship tourist traffic — some of the buildings housed chain clothing stores or generic trinket marts — I was pleasantly surprised by the variety of unique things for sale in many of the shops, including hand-knit sweaters and mittens, one-of-a-kind artwork and small-batch mead.
While I could have spent several hours walking around this area in the off season and soaking up the views, Ian and I weren’t really in the mood for shopping or navigating August crowds. So we climbed back up the cliffs for something a little different.
After grabbing lunch to go at a cute market on Avenue Cartier — which reminded me strongly of a few of my favorite neighborhoods in Vancouver — we wandered over to the Musée National des Beaux-Arts du Québec. I always love visiting a city’s flagship art museum, because it usually boasts a mix of local history, big names and contemporary pieces that offer a pleasant surprise. This art museum delivered all three, big time — I especially loved that one floor was dedicated to the stories and historical artifacts of local Indigenous peoples — and it didn’t hurt that the museum buildings themselves were stunning.
Tuckered out from a day of walking and museum-shuffling, Ian and I spent a few hours in the late afternoon relaxing and regrouping back at our Airbnb, then grabbing a drink at nearby Deux22. Overwhelmed by the endless number of restaurant options within a one-mile radius, we settled on one that was right around the corner — mostly because we were intrigued by its lack of set menu.
We had no expectations for our meal at Laurentien Buvette Gourmande, which may be why we ended up enjoying it so much. Apparently the restaurant changes its menu daily according to what seems freshest at the morning markets — and, lucky for this mostly-herbivore, we had caught them on an all-vegetarian night! The small plates we shared were simple, flavorful and unique, and the waiters’ excellent wine and beer recommendations rounded out a perfect dining experience.
Water, water everywhere
Just outside of Quebec City are some of the biggest, most impressive falls in North America — and on our last morning in the area, we headed out to see them.
The dark, threatening sky didn’t deter us from visiting Montmorency Falls, although maybe it should have: Just seconds after we paid the entry fee, the skies opened up and literal buckets of rain started to fall. For 10 solid minutes, we sat in the car just marveling at the intensity of the rain, unable to even contemplate getting out. After the unbelievable downpour became merely a hard rain, we decided it was now or never.
We were soaked within seconds, our feet and ankles caked in mud within a minute. And before we even reached the viewing platform, Ian slid on the rain-slicked downhill trail and became even more muddy.
But even on a miserable day, it’s still awe-inspiring to see cascades that are more than 100 feet taller than the celebrated Niagra Falls. Under the cover of a wooden roof, we got a good perspective on the waterfall’s sheer hugeness as we watched ant-sized people mill on footpaths and fly on ziplines above and below the falls.
Neither of us felt too keen on wandering the trails in such wet weather, so we didn’t stay long. My weather app had enticing news about Montreal, our next destination: The day’s forecast called for clear skies and warm temperatures. Back in the car we went.
You remind me…
Maybe it was because I didn’t spend enough time in Quebec City. Or maybe it was because we visited the city directly after a zen-filled few days in Downeast Maine. Whatever the reason, I felt that our few days here were pleasant but not especially memorable.
Quebec City has all the ingredients of a great destination: An attractive historic center, a good arts and culture scene, an abundance of great restaurants and, from what I can tell, a variety of nightlife. Yet in every area we visited, all I could think was that it reminded me of somewhere else I’d already seen — somewhere I had found just slightly more compelling. It’s as if the city can’t decide whether to embrace its charming, European village side or its gritty, urban hipster bona fides, so it commits to both halfheartedly.
But I’m willing to bet my hot take is just that — and that I’d fall in love with the city if I visited again and spent more time there. So I hope that happens someday.
Have you been to Quebec City? What did you think?
