Coastal Adventure # 2: Where the River Narrows

I’ve rewritten the opening of this post several times, trying to hit the right tone. At first, I was going whole-hog on the nostalgia angle, and then I went overboard trying to explain the geography and history of Québec – until I realized that I could easily write 10 pages on either of those subjects and not even scratch the surface. So, here’s just a bit for a warm-up. 

Although I’ve whipped through town a couple of times enroute to points farther east, this is the first time I’ve actually done any serious visiting inside Québec City since coming here for a week in August of 1970. I was 16 years old, and on my very first independent trip away from home. I’d been planning this return visit for a long time, and refused to let the cold and little spits of rain get in my way.

Although Québec City (properly, Ville de Québec) is a modern metropolitan area with all the amenities of life that its population of over 800,000 people could want, most visitors see little of it – and indeed, most of the city looks much like any other city. 

The part that is of interest to visitors, the old city or Vieux-Québec occupies just the eastern tip of a long ridge parallel to the river, which is called Cap-Diamant, and the shoreline of the river below the steep cliffs. That shoreline land is now the site of several cruise ship docks, so it’s from that point – where Caribbean Princess is docked – that I would begin my exploratory walk. 

It’s the cliff that really determined the city’s location. Coming inland from the ocean, the St. Lawrence River is really more of an inlet of the sea – tidal, salt water, and many kilometres wide. Just before Québec the river squeezes around the sizable Île d’Orléans and then the channel abruptly narrows down to barely 1 kilometre across, with steep cliffs on both sides – a natural fortification point, if ever there was one. Ships also have to sail upstream in a straight line towards the tip of Cap-Diamant, the most dangerous angle of approach for a sailing warship. 

The site was settled and fortified by France beginning in 1608, and became the centre and capital of the colony of New France. In time, a wall was built completely around the city on top of the cliff. Today, it remains the only complete walled city in North America. After repeated unsuccessful efforts, a British force finally captured Québec in 1759, and with it the entire centre of the North American continent, right down to the lively French settlement of Nouvelle-Orléans near the mouth of the Mississippi River. 

Enough history, let’s get to the city as we see it today. First, a view of upper and lower cities from the top deck of Caribbean Princess. At the west end of the city, on the highest point of Cap-Diamant, is the Citadelle du Québec, built by Britain starting in the 1820s to protect against the periodic threat of American invasion. The flight of stairs leads to a boardwalk which takes you past the Citadelle to the park on the battlefield known as the Plains of Abraham. The curious old ramp to nowhere next to the staircase is actually the site of the famous winter Toboggan Slide, a thrill ride which long predates the invention of waterslides and steel roller coasters.

Right across the street from the dock is an area filled with dignified 19th-century office buildings. Turn left 3 blocks, though, and you are into the centre of the 17th century workingman’s district. The narrow houses today hold shops and restaurants, but the cobblestoned streets and all of the architecture are plainly much older than our time. In the middle is the small square known as Place Royale, with the church of Notre-Dame-des-Victoires dominating the open space.

At the back of this narrow urban community is the frowning cliff of Cap-Diamant. You can, if you wish, climb up the steep, twisting street of Cote de la Montagne. If you really want a workout, you can go up the “Escalier casse-cou” (literally, the Break-Neck Stairs). Or, you can take it easy like me and ascend in the funicular which dates from 1874, no less. 

At the top of the funicular, you climb one flight of steps and emerge onto the Terrasse Dufferin, a Victorian promenade atop the old city walls.

From the Terrasse, you have a marvellous view of the St. Lawrence, the town of Lévis on the opposite shore, and the cruise ship port as well.

Dominating the Terrasse Dufferin is the monumental, almost baronial Fairmont Chateau Frontenac hotel – due to its prominent location, said to be the most photographed hotel in the world.

On the north side of the hotel is the beautiful square of Place d’Armes. On the west side of Place d'Armes (left in the picture) is the Anglican cathedral, where the bellringers were practising the ancient art of "ringing the changes".

On the north is the Auberge du Tresor restaurant, whose classic French-Canadian cuisine is among the most expensive in the city,…

And on the east stands the Musée du Fort whose diorama of the decisive Battle of the Plains of Abraham in 1759 has been a visitor attraction ever since before I came here in 1970 (I remember visiting it). 

I was going to walk back down the Cote de la Montagne, passing the Roman Catholic Cathedral and Basilica on the way, but by this time my knees were squawking from the combined effects of the cold, wet weather and 2 hours of continuous standing up (since there was no place dry to sit down!). So I retraced my steps to the funicular, rode down the cliff, and walked by the most direct route back to the ship for a well-earned and thermally necessary cappuccino!

At 5:00 we sailed from Québec. It sounds splendidly energetic, but for a ship this size it takes a good half hour to slowly move sideways away from the dock, then pivot around in the middle of the river to head downstream, all with the help of two tugboats. I watched the whole process from my balcony. But when the ship did come all the way around, we got a splendid panorama of sunset in the clouds behind the city to bring the day to a beautiful conclusion. And now we are on our way to Saguenay.