Il faut se rappeler qu'on n'est pas en France!

Place Royale, Basse-ville, Quebec

Day 4: Quebec

Ah Quebec! Some say it's the most romantic city in Canada. I'd have to agree, although I'm not really feeling it this time around with Andrew at my side. As you're walking around Old Quebec, though, it's easy to forget that you're in Canada an not some quaint old town in France. Narrow streets meander through the old stone buildings, many of which date back to the early 1600s when Sam de Cham and his crew founded the city (Canada's oldest) in 1608. Street artists, quaint cafes, restaurants with terraces and horse-pulled carts round out the picture postcard image.

As frilly as that sounds, Andrew and I were looking to get some of that but we woke, instead, to the pitter-pattering of rain on aluminum, the material of choice for many of the buildings in the Old City. This significantly slowed the pace of our rise and breakfast as we tried to think out a wet weather plan. Fortunately, by the time we got going the rain had let up and after a tour of the Citadel, the almost star-shaped fortress built to guard the city, the sky had cleared and a beautiful afternoon followed.

The Citadel is an interesting story. It was built by the English using a French architect's design, and not right after they captured the city in the Battle of the Plains of Abraham in 1759, but rather in the 1820s, after two failed American invasions. The location and design of the fortress were such that the city became virtully impregnable (indeed, it was dubbed "The Gibraltar of America" by Charles Dickens, and perhaps as a result of this, it never saw any aggressions against it and so was never tested in battle.

After a short walk on the Plains of Abraham and a quick lunch, we headed to the quaint Lower Town and walked around snapping photos like the tourists that we are. The city is busy with tourists from all over the world but thankfully not overly crowded at this time of year. So we took our time walking around and soaking up the old-world European atmosphere, including Place Royale, which could very well be the central square of any village in France. Vieux Quebec seems to have a fair bit of real estate for sale and rent, with many of the places at bargain prices. Massive condominiums in the Old Port area are going for just $295,000 and we couldn't help but wonder why they were selling for so cheap. Anyway, the walk also allowed us to check out a few of the restaurants with dinner in mind and while the first night I went for traditional quebecois fare, this second day we happened upon a very trendy World cuisine restaurant not too far from our hotel in the Upper Town and noted the menu's offerings.

Later in the evening, after a wicked 15-minute thundershower tore through the city, Andrew and I walked back to Le 48, which was chic and jumping and unfortunately without space for us, since we hadn't made a reservation. We were about to give up but then inquired about eating on the patio, which was mostly soaked except for a few tables under a sturdy tent. The manager acquiesced and so we sat down out there, joining just one other couple in the cool night, with a second wave of thunderstorms threatening. Electricity came in a different form, however, in our serveuse, Alex. Korean-quebecoise, she was the hottest thing I've seen this side of the Pacific, and made the otherwise average meal well worth the money spent.

Our time in Quebec is just about up, but even a couple of days of hearing the twangy quebecois and having the chance to speak French once again has reminded me how much I love the language, and just how much I need to brush up on it. One thing I've realized for sure is that while I do speak French, Quebecois is another story altogether, hein!