Travel and Places: Quebec

[Under development 22 July 2006]

Driving eastwards out of Ottawa, we entered the province of Francophone Quebec. The first city we visited was Montreal. This was an odd experience that contrasted with our experience in Anglophone Canada. It was as though there was a simmering resentment throughout the city. Whilst a few people were friendly to us, many people behaved coldly. We wondered whether it was because we spoke English and French with the appropriate European, rather than North American, accents. However, the botanical gardens were wonderful, and amongst the best I have seen in the world. There were so many different gardens contained within the site that one day was not time enough. On the other hand, the Biodome, situated close by the botanical gardens, was worthy of only a morning's visit. Its concept was novel, and remains good, but has since been copied and improved upon in many places: the presentation of miniature versions of a variety of unique ecosystems. I remember both the rain forest and the Antarctic ecosystems, and I seem to recall a St Lawrence estuary ecosystem, too. Petty as it may sound, the car parking charges (additional to the entrance charges) were so extortionate (in today’s terms, costing about GBP15 or USD20) that our experience of the visit was somewhat soured ‘fleece the tourists’). We ascended Mont Real, which was pleasant but the sort of thing one does on a dreary Sunday afternoon when there is nothing to watch on the television. We tried to use the underground railway system, but moving around the stations was hopeless with a physically disabled child, a polar contrast with Vancouver.

Looking for a more welcoming, less detachedly metropolitan, attitude, we headed north, via Sainte Agathe to Saint Michel des Saints. It was the first time that I had driven any serious distance on un-metalled ‘dirt’ roads. I am not certain, on reflection, whether the car hire agreement permitted such driving, and I consider it likely that the car's paintwork picked up a few chips to show for the experience. Of greater concern to me was that the roads on which I was driving had precious little traffic. We were driving through a flat, forested wilderness, and if the car malfunctioned or ran out of petrol we could be stranded. The hidden presence of bears lurking in the scrub made me a little apprehensive, like when the car nearly ran out of gas in a crocodile-infested part of Florida, and again, late at night, in wild-boar country in the Montaignes Noirs in south-western France. We were incredulous at the absence of public space: all the land, even in the middle of nowhere, appeared to be privately owned. On our evening arrival in Saint Michel des Saints, we were treated with overt suspicion, as though we were the first English-speaking people who had ever arrived in the place (which is absurd), and the new-fangled notion of sending a fax to England appeared to be beyond the competence of the bank personnel who were the jealous custodians of the town's only fax machine. Despite plans to stay for a few days, we decided to leave the next morning, and felt relieved to be driving away.

In mild contrast to our wilderness experience, Quebec City was marginally more welcoming. The city centre, at least, was geared up for tourism, even if this meant that service staff knew the tricks and ruses to fleece the tourists (such as not giving change when paying for something with a large denomination bank note). An apparently massive influx of tourists apparently explained why our overnight accommodation arrangements had to be chaotic. On each of the three nights of our stay we were forced to stay in a different motel. I remain sceptical, and believe that there may have been a hidden agenda. Visiting the site of General Wolf’s defeat of French troops was barely riveting. The historic streets were pleasant, but for Europeans only questionably worth travelling 35 miles to see, never mind 3,500 miles.

The high points (plural) of visiting Quebec province were the Commensal vegetarian restaurants in Montreal and Quebec City. The quality and range of the food made the not-very-cheap prices wholly worthwhile. I was a vegetarian, and only at the start of my journey towards living the vegan life. I doubt that, as a strict vegan, I would be anywhere near so happy about diners casually scooping vegetables and sauces onto plates already charged with dairy products. However, my intentions are not revisionist: we enjoyed the meals at the time, and even today, we prepare salad meals "like those at the Commensal".

 p.g.h@btinternet.com