Quebec City

Wandering the streets of old Quebec City, inside the walls, I felt like everyone else does when there: that I had left Canada and suddenly found myself on a little holiday in Europe.

It is the only walled city in North America, defining its role in North American history. Quebec City was where it all came down to whether or not Canada would be British or French; according to Wikipedia, a 20 minute battle on the Plains of Abraham, just outside the walls that still stand and mark this part of the city as an outdoor museum, decided the fate of the newly found and highly sought after colony to turn to British rule.

This was in the 1700s, and it was then called Nouvelle France, a region that extended across what is now Eastern Canada and south to Louisiana. The Queen (this would have been Victoria) spent a nice chunk of money on a military citadel carved into the hill overlooking the St. Lawrence River to defend against the possibility of American invasions. In the end, the US took the southern part, Quebec remained French in culture while the British (but not only the British) set themselves to spreading across the rest of Canada, until Canada became Canada in the year of Confederation. The citadel now hosts the residence of the Canadian Governor General, the Queen's representative in the Canadian government, since apparently we no longer need it to fight off the Americans.

Having a chance to see and feel this sense of Canada's past that extends beyond the most recent 150 years while wandering through Quebec's walled streets helped me to understand (in a different way than reading about it in a book or on Wikipedia) that we do have a history here in Canada. While admittedly still a toddler compared to some of the world's nations, Canada”s history is rooted in Quebec.

Mom and I spent two days walking through Quebec's quaint old streets, but just couldn't drag ourselves away from this historical part into the more modern and less touristy sections of the city. We ate crepes for breakfast at cafes that could very easily exist in any city in France, revitalized after hours of walking over Martinis named after Rene Levesque and Trudeau – some of Quebec's political heroes – at the Farimount Hotel Frontenac, and dined on typical French Canadian cuisine at the Restaurant des Anciens Canadians in what was one of the oldest houses in the city dating back to the 1600s. We were distracted by artsy little shops, taking lots of pictures, and stopping into pubs offering local beer.

Tres civilized, and I am glad that I could experience this city with my mom oohing and ahhing beside me through this gorgeous part of Quebec.

Quebec City