QC, becoming a tradition

We like to visit a town with a vibrant holiday scene in the days before Christmas. Last year we went to Iceland, but the two years before, we went to Quebec City, Canada. This year, it was Quebec City again. My brother and two of my sisters already had their plans for a visit. We joined them, renting a two-bedroom place for me, Sam, and my grown-up son Blair. Quebec City is so wintry and so festive this time of year. There are loads of lights, decorations, things to do, sights to see. And the added benefit – they speak French, so it almost feels like going to Europe, although it’s only a six-hour drive (for us – the others had a longer trip).

I wasn’t very diligent about taking photos, but here are some of the random sights I wanted to remember, dmostly inside the Château Frontenac. That building is the centerpiece of the city, a big fancy hotel built originally by the railroad to foster tourism and Canadian pride. We took a tour of the interior with a guide who offered so much historical information and insight.

I have to look up the South Korean TV series “Goblins.” There are a couple of places in Quebec City that feature in that story. One is the red goblin door which I photographed on our first trip. I learned about another on this trip – a mailbox that communicates between worlds. As our tour guide was explaining this, a number of South Koreans stepped up to it for photos, proving its renown.

There were several edible sculptures on display, but the gingerbread house was the most impressive.

Here’s the Château in all its glory the following morning. A cold but sunny morning, a nice contrast from the rain that passed through the previous day.

Sam noticed the ferry crossing the Saint Lawrence seaway. It looks like it’s cutting through the ice, but the ice was floating. I think it was just pushing it out of the way.

I took myself to the Museum of the Augustines. Sam and Blair weren’t interested enough to go out in the cold. I noticed mainly how strong an influence those Catholic ideals still had on me. There is still a lot of resistance in my heart to the notion of being a nun! This place is trying to reinvent itself from being an unpopulated Augustine monastery to becoming a wellness center, a form of contemporary religion I suppose. It felt to me like an awkward transition. There were lots of old documents on display, which were very hard to decipher. I photographed these two motifs which were interesting from an embroidery perspective.

The motif below was a placeholder for a future exhibit known as Dialogues. They want to establish interaction between the first nations people and the descendants of European colonists and missionaries. A native artist drew this very delicate and beautiful motif.

And I took a few shots in the snow just before we left on Sunday morning. This massive mural is at the start of Rue du Petit-Champlain, a very quaint and busy shopping street. From a tour guide, I learned that all four seasons are represented and there is a mix of historical and contemporary people within it.

Just off Rue du Petit-Champlain is Place Royale, one of the most peaceful places in Quebec City I think. There’s a beautifully decorated tree there and a very old church. A bus was pulling up to unload bleachers for a musical performance but we were leaving so we missed that.

Another view of Place Royale, showing the back of a bust of Louis XIV, King of France. It was originally placed there in 1682! The current bust is a replica, after the original was damaged by weather.

It snowed and blowed the whole time we traveled through Canada, but stopped soon after we came to Maine. A relief, much less hazardous driving. Sam’s and my cell phones were majorly messed up as we attempted to transition to Canadian calling. It was a crazy situation because you had to talk to a technician, but you couldn’t call them because your phone was non-functional. Somehow we managed to communicate amongst all six of us. Well, that’s straightened out now. Next time I go to Canada, I hope I’ll be better prepared.