There are two ways to explore the charming city: take the rather romantic 30-minute caleche (horse-drawn carriage) ride or hoof it on your own. Old Quebec lies nestled within a fortification, the only one north of Mexico, and is divided in to the Upper and Lower Town. We took Canada car rental service which proved trustworthy and it really helps. Everything else outside of the walls is newer. We decided to put our shoes to the test by wondering around the Upper Town. By now the winds had picked up and I wished I had donned another pair of socks. My nose was cherry red but with military stoicism we marched towards the Citadel, home of the Van Doos or the Royal 22nd Regiment, a French garrison. The Van Doos have the distinction of having served in World War I, World War ll and the Korean War. This year they were busy again – but thankfully only to parade the city streets in all their regalia, to mark the 400 years.
The walk around the Citadel on a winter day had the echoes of a Siberian march. We stepped inside- I thawed a bit after being introduced to Batiste, the (stuffed) royal goat, replete with a crown and gilded horns. Batiste has an impressive lineage that can be traced to a royal herd of Tibet. Queen Victoria started it all by presenting the troops with a goat and subsequently it became part tradition for governor generals down the line to present the Van Doos with their own goat. It brought warm tingling of childhood memories and of growing up on the tea plantations of Assam. Come bihu, my father would be presented with his own garlanded goat after a bout of local dancing accompanied by high pitched singing. The van Doos and their goat seemed no different to me now.
The Lower Town lies not too far away – a funicular connects the Upper and Lower Town, just in case one doesn’t want to take the Escalier Casse – Cou, or the Break – Neck Stairs. Upper Town was quaint, but this gets quainter. The cable car drops you right in the heart of art galleries and souvenir shops.
The square besides rue Sous le Fort is thriving even on this cold day. It’s all very Parisian and I soak in every moment and every ray of sun. This part of town was once meant for the plebes. The cobbled streets down past rue Hamel bring us on to rue St Paul with its antique shops and restaurants. Every crack in these streets of Lower Town tells a story. We tiptoed in to rue Sous-le-Cap, a narrow passage with wooden overhead by the side of the cliff of Cap Diamant on the other side. Rue Sault au Matelot Close by was out of a dream. Almost every art gallery and antique shop on the street advertised its wares by displaying an innovative ice sculpture by its door. We could have been part of Enid Blyton’s Faraway Tree.
We had glimpsed the Island of Orleans from the falls, and it was natural to head there. This charming little 34km island was a pure delight. The roads around the island were lined with articles’ workshops as well as galleries, and offered a picturesque view of the other side of the river. We continued our car hire in Quebec City and finally we stopped to knock on the door of a wine maker but of course he was asleep. To our joy we found the houses of an apple cider farm open. We trooped in merrily.
It one is in Quebec City, the Ice Hotel is not be missed. The hotel covers 3000 sq m and requires 500 tones of ice and 15000 tones of snow to build. This cousin if the Ice Hotel in Sweden takes shapes every January only to melt away by early April. The rooms were dreamlike- the beds had been sculped out of ice. Even the candle holders and glasses were ice; Made in Quebec. We were told that it was a popular destination for honeymooners. Though, it was difficult to understand why anyone would pay a princely sum just to be frozen.
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