“I’m from Europe,” jokes comedian Eddie Izzard, “you know, where history comes from.” As much history as there is in Canada, there’s no denying that a couple of hundred years here — or, in the case of the West, a couple of decades there — doesn’t stack up against the centuries of cobblestone that pave the old towns of Europe. Bienvenue à Quebec City, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, a pocket of old Europe right here in North America, where history comes from as well.
From the 221-metre-high lookout rotunda atop the Observatoire de la Capitale, I see the stone wall that surrounds the Old Town, the archway of Rue Saint-Jean allowing traffic to pass between the centuries. The fairy-tale turrets of the Château Frontenac loom over tightly-bunched brick buildings like a medieval lord’s castle. I see the exact point where the mighty St. Lawrence narrows, an observation that gave birth to the name Quebec itself (which is believed to be an Algonquin word meaning “narrow passage” or “strait”). I see the walls of La Citadelle, a fortress originally built in the 1600s but that obtained its distinctive star shape from British conquerors in the early 1800s. There’s the Plains of Abraham, where the French and British battled for what would ultimately be the control of an entire continent. Today, Battlefields Park is a huge recreational area for sport, leisure, and massive festivals in both summer and winter. The impressive Parliament Building towers as parliament buildings often do, while church steeples pierce the sky like the inverted fangs of a vampire. Devoid of billboards and neon lights, the view I see is from another place and another time, reminding me of Riga, or Copenhagen, or Paris. Mirroring my experiences in those cities, I head to the streets with no map book, directions, or itinerary of places to see.
Old Quebec City is small enough to walk on foot within a couple of hours, with pockets of interest lying in wait where you least expect them. I stroll down Rue Saint-Louis, which runs directly to Fairmont’s grand Château Frontenac, supposedly North America’s most photographed hotel. Like Banff Springs and Lake Louise, this former Canadian Pacific Railway hotel inspires feelings of princely grandeur — a contrast to my own hotel, the modern Hilton, that overlooks the old city like a windowed brick. I walk past statues and churches, little shops selling bric-a-brac, Quebec mainstays such as the clothing store Simons. Lunch is a quick stop at Chez Ashtons, where they make the cheese curd fresh every day to get that vital poutine squeak.
My walk deposits me in Rue du Petit-Champlain, once the city’s slum, now easily among Canada’s most beautiful urban walkways. It’s getting a little brisk out, so I warm up with thick hot chocolate with a dash of spice at La Fudgerie. Cheese, wine, baguettes, chocolate — the city practically reeks of the good stuff. There’s a crowd gathered at Place-Royale, where Samuel de Champlain founded the continent’s first French settlement in 1608. A beautiful mural paints a vivid picture of the city’s history since then.
Up the Funiculaire, opened in 1879 and the only one of its kind in North America, I transition to uptown, past the Dufferin Terrace Slide, where I can’t help but spend a couple of bucks to race at 70 kilometres an hour on a sled. The adrenalin buzz makes climbing the 310 steps of La Promenade des Gouverneurs a cinch (the views of the St. Lawrence don’t hurt, either). Lost in thought, I arrive at the Musée national des beaux-arts du Québec, where an old prison has been turned into a wing of the art gallery.
My walk is just a brief introduction, and I relish the opportunity to explore the city further. We have a little bit of Europe here, too, Mr. Izzard. If you haven’t already done so, it’s well worth adding Quebec City to your bucket list.
START HERE: canadianbucketlist.com/quebec-city