MY day within the walled city of Quebec began in a genteel, sophisticated manner: poking into antiques shops during a walk along cobblestone streets, touring an art museum, eating lunch in a little French bistro. But by afternoon we were screaming through a forest, being splashed with mud as teams of Siberian huskies with wolf blood pulled us on a hip-displacing, one-of-a-kind “dog buggy” ride.
That evening, after scraping the mud from our shoes and spiffing up, we strolled the Grande Allee, a broad boulevard lined with fine restaurants and busy sidewalk cafes.
The best of both worlds converge here. Founded nearly 400 years ago along the banks and cliffs of the St. Lawrence River, Quebec City is one of only three cities in North America to win UNESCO’s designation as a World Heritage treasure.
Yet jump in a car or a bus, and within 15 minutes you’ll find yourself in charming little villages with church spires poking above the trees, riding past red barns surrounded by pastures and fields that stretch from the road to the river. Just outside city limits, you can walk across a bridge above a waterfall that’s higher than Niagara Falls, or tour a winery, or go rock climbing, or pick your own fruit in an orchard, or watch the buffalo roam. Or, if you’re feeling the least bit adventurous, you can discover what sled dogs do for recreation in the off season.
Urban sprawl has managed to remove most American cities far from the source of their food and from nature. Canadian cities in general have done a better job of managing that growth, but Quebec City specifically is the model for an enviable lifestyle that allows the best of urban and rural cultures to coexist in close proximity.
I love the city’s old quarter and the simple elegance of its two- and three-story buildings, some of them survivors from the 1600s. Their grace is punctuated simply by the two towering, majestic buildings in and just outside the old-quarter walls — the Parliament building and the Chateau Frontenac. I love the city’s boardwalk promenade, with its views of the St. Lawrence and islands in the distance. But I’m equally enamored of the charm of its nearby villages and farms.
If you live in North America, there are three cities you must not miss visiting: New York, San Francisco and Quebec City. Things are only expected to get better as Quebec City leaders launch major improvements as part of the 400th anniversary of the city’s founding on July 3, 1608. The city is in the midst of refurbishing a promenade along the St. Lawrence, is constructing a bike path along the St. Charles River and is building a new city park.
The anniversary organizing committee has been working since 2000 to plan world-class shows, concerts and other special events, like an outdoor multimedia show on a screen that is a third of a mile long — a world record. Special anniversary events begin Dec. 31, 2007, and continue for about 10 months.
If hoopla isn’t your thing, you should go now.
*****
Just before you enter Vieux Quebec — the old city within granite and limestone walls that on average are 40 feet high and seven feet thick — be sure to watch for the Parliament building. With luck or a little planning during the summer months, you’ll see the changing of the guard, a la London’s Buckingham Palace. But it’s about the only thing you’ll see that gives any hint of the fact that the British beat the French for control of Quebec in 1759.
Oh, there’s an English garden here and there, and a rather impressive Norman-style Anglican church, but overall, Quebec City is the domain of Francophiles. If you were brought here blindfolded after a long, mysterious plane ride, you would no doubt guess you were in France. And yet something wouldn’t seem quite right. Because in a way that is impossible to identify or describe, French Canadians have put their own stamp on the architecture, art and culture they brought with them from the home country. The city feels exactly like what it is: French Canadian.
Then again, Quebec City is enough of a dead ringer for France that when Steven Spielberg wanted to re-create the capture of famed impostor Frank Abagnale Jr. in the 2002 movie “Catch Me If You Can,” this is where he came. Remember the scene in which Leonardo DiCaprio is outside a beautiful French church? That was actually in Quebec City’s Notre Dame des Victoires, built in 1688, the oldest stone church in North America. It’s one of a number of churches worth a look, or even a guided tour, while you’re in Quebec.
A short walk from the church takes you to Battlefields Park, a 270-acre urban oasis that during our visit was being enjoyed by bikers and in-line skaters, families with picnics and couples in love. But as occasional monuments and plaques remind you, these fields were the scene of major battles over who would control not only Quebec but all of North America west of the Mississippi.
Benedict Arnold, who at the time was still on the American side, was wounded here during an American invasion of Quebec in 1775. Commanders of both the British and the French forces died on these fields in the 1759 battle won by Britain. You can get major doses of history at the city’s Musee de la Civilization, although if you’re pressed for time or museumed out, you needn’t feel compelled to visit. It would be a shame, however, to miss the Musee National des Beaux-Arts. Just the building itself is worth visiting, especially the part in a former jailhouse.
Some years ago the art museum was looking to expand. The natural thing would have been to look next door at a shuttered, derelict, 19th-century jail and tear it down. But someone obviously noticed that the red-brick jail, built in a neo-Italianate style, was really quite attractive. So the museum simply built an extension and now has wonderful old walls of exposed brick for hanging pictures. The museum even kept some of the cells intact, taking the bars off the rounded archways and leaving cool little nooks and crannies to show art or create work spaces.
In addition to the usual European masters, the museum has an extensive collection of Aboriginal art - which got a boost recently when the museum acquired about 5,000 pieces of Inuit art from collector Raymond Brousseau.
But some of my favorite hours in the city were spent walking around. There’s something pleasant to look at just about anywhere you turn, and safety isn’t a major issue even at night; the city has one of the world’s lowest crime rates. But don’t cheat yourself: Save time for the countryside.
*****
From the city, you can head in any direction and find natural beauty, including lakes, rivers and mountains in either the Laurentian or Appalachian range. I choose the 15-minute trip to Ile d’Orleans, a rural preserve that, as the crow flies, is about three miles, and visible from, Quebec City. Just before crossing the Taschereau Bridge to the island, I stop at Montmorency Falls Park. If you’re a cheater and ride the cable car from the base of the mountain, you need only an hour to see the falls. The cable car drops you in front of a mansion that is now a restaurant with fabulous views, and a short walk takes you along a pathway to a bridge across the falls that cascade 272 feet in a rushing torrent to a pool below. But the real way to do it — walking up 487 steps that wind up the mountain to the bridge over the falls — will take you much longer.
I happily stop at several of the 27 art galleries listed on our island map. All are selling high-end merchandise — paintings, handmade jewelry, pottery and wooden items. Having budgeted only for tourist trinkets, I find myself outclassed.
Although you might not expect to find fine dining in the midst of farm country, you’ll find it here. Residents of Quebec City drive here for special occasions just to eat at places like Auberge La Goeliche and Auberge Le Canard Huppe. If I had the trip to plan over, I’d spend at least one night on the island and try a fine restaurant.
I actually catch ingredients for dinner on the island, but unfortunately, having no place to cook, leave them with the owner of Erabliere Richard Boily. The maple syrup farm brings in extra cash in summer by stocking a trout pond and makes it easy by providing fishing poles and bait. I thread a couple of pieces of corn on a hook, cast and, within seconds, have a bite, pulling in a 12-inch brook trout.
I cast again, and soon have another bite. Obviously, there’s not a lot of suspense in fishing here: It’s pretty much like scooping goldfish out of an overcrowded aquarium. It’s a kid’s dream of sport fishing, but for an adult, it’s too easy to be interesting for long. But really, the farmer isn’t selling it as exciting; the point is to get dinner. The proprietor measures the fish you catch, charges you 35 cents an inch, then cleans them and ices them down. It’s nearly as quick as going to the supermarket.
There’s a bit more excitement just down the road, at Expedition Mi-Loup. There, on a farm where his mother lives in a house built in 1647, Marc Antoine Simard has found a unique means of extending the dog-sledding season.
Simard, who for his winter dog-sledding operation has 50 Siberian huskies, some with wolf mixed into the breed, put together what he calls a “dog buggy” several years ago. A former welder, Simard created four dog buggies by welding together iron tubes and adding pieces from a number of other vehicular contraptions.
He’s got the small spare tires from cars in the back of the dog buggy, a motorcycle tire in the front, and a steering device from a Ski-Doo snowmobile, to name a few parts. Using dog-sled harnesses and leashes, he links six dogs to each buggy, which is less like a sled and more like an oversize tricycle with a platform instead of a seat.
His prototype had no brakes, but given how much the dogs love pulling and hate stopping, that really didn’t work, so he eventually added foot brakes. The buggies he has now have been through three years of improvization and testing; this is the second year he’s offered rides to visitors.
Simard drives the lead buggy and an assistant in an ATV follows at the back of the packs, in case of trouble. The dogs take off, speeding along at about 6 mph, the buggy bumping over ruts and stones and rushing through muddy puddles. Much as I love dog-sledding, I must say this is definitely a more edgy, thrilling, exhilarating ride.
*****
At the end of an hour-long ride, I get to pet my excited buggy pullers: Inouk, Adouk, Snow, Youkon, Hibou and Fred. Simard mentions that although Inouk has the distinction of being a great lead dog, Snow is one of the best teachers in the entire pack. Simard often pairs Snow with dogs just being trained. When the young dog does anything wrong, Snow lets him know by giving a soft growl.
While an hour of simply standing and holding on was enough for me, the dogs clearly are still raring to go. Simard has to attach the buggy to trees with chains to keep the dogs from racing off again. It’s a mistake to start petting one of them if you mind having a muddy, 50-pound animal leaping up to put his paws on your shoulders while he licks your face. The huskies are a tough breed, but are as affectionate as lap dogs.
An evening along the Grande Allee awaits, but for now, I am very happy for this time with Fred and his friends.
