Québec City

Day Twenty Three - No driving

God, what can I say? This is such an awesomely beautiful place. The place itself, physically. The buildings. The walled city. The people. I had such a great day here. I could have stayed so much longer.

After calling my (much relieved) parents back in Ireland, who hadn't heard from me for a while, I ventured out for the afternoon. I toyed with the idea of taking the "hop on, hop off" bus outside the hotel, but there wasn't one there, and there was a woman waiting for it who looked like she'd been there a while, so I said to myself, "Dude! You've got a 1200GS sitting idle over there. Are you insane?"

I jumped on the bike, and took off down the Boulevard Champlain. I was glad I did, because shortly after I passed the bus which was going rather slowly, and was full of standing people. Bikes are more fun, anyway!

I got down to the old city, and immediately pulled into the first and only vacant spot I could see. It was right outside "Le Cochon Dingue" - a really nice kind of cafe-bistro sort of a place, like something you'd see on the Côte d'Azur or in Paris.

I immediately struck up a conversation with this Québécois fellow, who was sitting at the table across from me with his wife and son. He saw me taking a picture of my bike outside the restaurant, and offered to take one of me with my bike.

He then inquired about where I had come from. That led to them telling me about the two years himself and his wife had spent driving trucks around North America. At least I think that's what he meant. His English was "fairly" good, her's not so much, but I was getting the drift. Perhaps they meant an RV, or something? Why would they both be driving big-rigs around, for fun? Well, maybe that part got lost in translation.

The waitress was starting to get quite chatty and friendly. And, as my father would say, "You wouldn't call the guards." She was giving me ideas of places to go and see. I have to admit, I was thinking of other things.

The food in this place was really first class. I had a fish pie, pastry thing. It was really outstanding. i had this raspberry pie thing for desert. It was breakfast AND lunch, after all.

"Odrey" (the waitress) assured me my bike would be alright parked outside the restaurant, so I left it there, and started off into the old town on foot. She suggested just "rambling" around the quieter streets, rather than the busier touristy ones, to get a better feel for the place.

I did just that, and wandered around some really interesting little places and alleys, eventually finding my way up to the walls and ramparts. Québec was founded in 1608, and as well as being one of the oldest cities in North America, it is the only one outside of Mexico that has its original walls intact.

I didn't quite plan it, but I ended up, with a bit of meandering hear and there, pretty much walking the entire way round the city walls. They call it the "City for Lovers," and I saw a couple embracing up on the ramparts. I didn't think it too inappropriate to take a picture. There was something very romantic about it. Nearby, a couple of neighbors were discussing something in soft tones but with great expressions of shrugging and arm-waving. Up the little street nearby, a playful dog was taking an interest in me.

I eventually made my way up to the Citadelle at the top of the hill. On the way up, I noticed a statue of Gandhi, and I got an interesting shot, through the ramparts, of an Indian couple taking their own photo by the statue below.

On the other side of the Citadelle, there is a walkway that takes you along the front of the walls - they are very steep at this point, overlooking the river - and eventually to the majestic Château Frontenac, the famous hotel that dominates the skyline of the city, and in some ways defines it.

I took the obligatory photos out front, then went inside for a drink. It's always nice, when you're in one of those places in the world that people love to visit, to just slip into the shadows and sit back. I did that for a while, feeling slightly chuffed with myself.

I eventually made my way down the hill again. I was surprised to see Odrey still there at the cafe where my bike was. She immediately came over and asked me how I'd got along, and couldn't believe I'd walked all that way. It was about 11pm, and she told me she was getting off at 1am. I wasn't sure if I was getting a hint or not, but I knew I had my longest day yet - over 500 miles - tomorrow to Toronto, so I wasn't in the mood for reading tea leaves. There's another expression my father likes to repeat at times like this, but she was far too nice to say it too, and I certainly won't repeat it here. Needless to say, it crossed my mind.

I got on my bike, and drove back down the Boulevard Champlain.

(God, that was anti-climactic, wasn't it?!!)

Anyway, Toronto and familiar faces tomorrow. At least I'll be well rested.

Onwards!