Tuesday 22 September 2015

Quebec City

Quebec City

What a day.  I left the campground and drove down the tourist information site at the other end of the island to find the location of our B&B since my GPS couldn’t recognize it. The parking was narrow and I had cars lined up behind me and was trying to juggle my way into the spot and backed up to far, and got stranded in the soft sand over a gully. They called the CAA and the tow truck guy was there within 15 minutes with a flat bed to load me onto if needed. It took him about 2 minutes to pull me out.  I was told I had the wrong type of membership when I talked to the CAA lady but when the driver called it in they didn’t charge me.

When I got to the Aubage I realized I would be pushing it to try and drive to it in the dark and asked the lady if we could come tomorrow instead and could she recommend a hotel in the city for tonight.  Just happened that they owned another property 1 block from the Plains of Abraham and when she called they had a 1 bedroom suite with a second bed area left.  The problem was I would have to park my van and leave it until the next day. I did not see it as a problem, more like a relief. 

I walked across the Plains and was touched by how many people were reading tour guides and contemplating them.  I worked my way over to the Citadel when Hope called to say she was taking the next ferry.  I asked a lady for directions and her friend said she was going to the ferry herself and would walk me there. Neither of us spoke each other’s language but we struggled mightily with gestures and word searches and the time flew by.  When we got to the ferry Hope had just arrived and my guide and I said profuse goodbyes.  I mistakenly told Hope it wasn’t far back to the hotel.  We took the fununcular up to the Frontenac then took the ‘path less taken’ on a boardwalk outside the citadel.  What the map didn’t show was the endless stairs up and down the whole way and Hopes suitcase weighted about 50 pounds.  To make matters worse there was no way off until we got to the end. I had underestimated the distance back to the hotel and we were both tired and needed a revival. 



The boardwalk started out so well


Then the reality hit

We took a cab back to Old town and poked in shops, I bought earrings and checked in on the Frontenac.  We met a woman who was part of a group of 20 I think Rolls Royce owners that get together from all over the world and are caravaning around N. America for 2 months staying at places like the Frontenac.  We had a good visit.  She told us lots of interesting stories.  We found a good enough restaurant and with over 15,000 steps, most up and down I was ready for bed when we got home.  An easier ending to the day than the beginning. 

Day 2


We got up early to go for a photo shoot on the Plains. The light was good and place almost empty. Who knew Joan of Arc would have a statue and special garden there. When we got back to our Auberge I knew I was in Quebec when we got warm croissants straight from the oven at breakfast.  






Afterwards we walked down to the National Museum of Art and saw a great show on Japanese influence in western art.  Timely for the last leg of my trip. We rented ipad’s with headphones to guide us through the show. 


                                        My favourite installation made by students



The inuit sculpture gallery and the Riopelle gallery were also wonderful.  


It took us three hours to work our way through then we had lunch overlooking the whole St. Lawrence valley.  All very urban after the last several weeks.  


When we got back to Strider it took two people to guide me out of the tight parking 
area.  It was just nerve wracking for me after yesterday’s troubles.  We drove back through the construction and across the bridge to the Auberge we were supposed to stay in yesterday but this time the traffic was fine.  We have a 2 bedroom spacious main floor of a house with our own verandah that sort of overlooks the river. It is all good. 

           
                                 Looking across to Quebec City


                                                     Father and son fishing 












No comments:

Post a Comment