CANADA
Friday, August 12 we made our way into Quebec City and parked across the river from the walled city. Our location provided us a view of Quebec City’s beautiful skyline from the St Lawrence, satisfied Ken’s need for his weekly boat ride and gave us many good photo “ops”. Quebec City provides an inspiring peek at beautiful European architecture , the old world charm and an unsteady walk on cobble stone streets of “yore”. It is a beautiful city, quaint, nostalgic and visually pleasing. However, within the walls, the city is more French than France itself. There are no signs in English and French is the dialogue, not of preference but, of necessity. This was our second visit to Quebec.
On our first visit in the late 90's we took a tour of Quebec City with an English speaking tour guide who pointed out the sights and provided us with a familiarization of the city and recommended good restaurants that were “English friendly”. Once our tour was completed we had lunch and went on our way. This time we wanted to experience the city on our own and the prevalent attitude on the street was disappointing. We simply did not feel welcome and did not have the impression that non French speaking tourists were either welcome or encouraged. We enjoyed dinner at a restaurant that we enjoyed on our previous trip to Quebec City and the management and staff not only spoke English, they were exceptionally friendly, the service excellent, the food good and the prices reasonable. Their cordial welcome and good service provided us with a reminder that not all French speaking people are jerks. As a matter of fact, our visit to French in 1993 was very pleasant. The next day we had lunch at another restaurant that was similarly congenial and the overall service of both restaurants was a notch above most restaurants in the States and the elegance of the ambiance outstanding. However, the common ordinary person that we encountered on the street left much to be desired insofar as friendliness and though there were exceptions, for the most part we felt no spirit of kinship with the masses. After two days, we were ready to flee the “city”. This commentary would probably not be rated as a positive dialogue on “political correctness”.
On Sunday, the 14th we “broke camp”, fired up the diesel and meandered down the road alongside the St Lawrence to Trois de Riviera where we stopped for the night. Ken did a drive about, but I preferred to use the afternoon for reading and relaxing without benefit of sights French. Monday we drove to our resort outside Montreal which turned out to be 50 miles south of Montreal. The facilities and amenities were pleasant, quiet and relaxing but the prospect of the long drive into the city was not encouraging.
Tuesday, the 16th, after breakfast prepared in honor of Ken’s 74th birthday we were off to Montreal. The drive into the city was along a nicely paved country road bordering beautiful, well manicured and maintained farms with large old country homes that reflected affluence and European charm at its best. If the people of Quebec were half as friendly or inviting as their countryside, the province would be a tourist haven. We found our way into down town Montreal, parked and found a tourist information center where we inquired about tours and places to see in the city. Of course, insofar as our interests, there was only one place of interest for the birthday boy, and that was the river and the docks. We found a place that seemed to offer a good lunch with English speaking translations and it turned out to be a good choice. After lunch, our orientation seemed improved so we went to reclaim our car and found that our one hour and a half of public parking was $13.00 and that discouraged our interest in further tourist activities in downtown Montreal. Ken wanted to visit the waterfront, but alas, parking was non existent and by now we had lost interest in either the city or the people of Quebec. Thus, we departed the city prior to “rush hour” in an effort to reduce our further frustrations with the Province of Quebec. I understand and to some extent encourage the need for people to maintain their cultural kinship but Quebec seems to me to reflect an independence that should be reserved for an independent nation. It is my understanding that Quebec depends mightily upon the rest of Canada for its support and maintenance and thus, it seems to me that it’s devotion to cultural sanctity is over done. I feel that every immigrant to a new country and a new life has a responsibility to meld into the community of his or her new homeland. Although they should be encouraged to maintain and protect their cultural heritage, their religious faith and their language,. However, they chose to emigrate and by doing so, I believe they have an obligation to accept an allegiance to their adopted country. I have no problem with France and its requirement that one speak French. It is their country. I have no problem with Quebec French Canadians preserving their French culture and language. I have a problem with their insistence that their French background “trumps” their patriotism of Canada. And with that you can put me down as a “maybe” insofar as my appreciation of Quebec’s French Canadian culture.
Thursday, we moved into Ontario and basked in our escape from the French influence and it was like moving into another country. We enjoyed a beautiful day on Lake Ontario in Toronto, had a good lunch on the waterfront and basked in the welcome comfort of our neighboring country of Canada. The highlight of our tour in Toronto was a sailing trip aboard the 165 foot schooner “KAJAMA” which Ken particularly enjoyed. He was able to help raise one of the four sails and reported that much to his surprise, he felt his age as he was pulling on the lines that raised the sail. He, of course, carefully examined everything on the boat and quietly commented to me that the crew was not as efficient as they should be in adjusting the sails to changing wind conditions. He later complained that he didn’t ask to take the helm for a chance at feeling first hand the thrill of handling the boat at sea. His afternoon aboard the KAJAMA seemed to compensate for our failed day in Montreal. We left Toronto feeling a closer kinship with the language, people and city of Toronto. Thumbs up for Ontario, down for Quebec.
On Saturday, we had an easy reentry into the US. A pleasant friendly border guard welcomed us back into the US with a smile and to our relief, did not subject us to a search of the coach. Perhaps two old folks who speak English, smile and appear happy to be home seem unlikely terrorists? We were grateful for his welcome and glad to be back home in the USA.
We spent Saturday night on Saginaw Bay in Michigan though we saw neither Saginaw or the bay. Sunday we drove into Gaylord Michigan where we spent our last night on the road before GOING into Mackinaw City for a five day Allegro rally. The week is filled with activities oriented to Allegro RV owners and club members.
So went another week on the road.
DOWN EAST
Monday we “folded our awnings” and took to the road “down east”. A stop over in Bath permitted Ken a visitation at the Maritime Museum. He pronounced the stop “worth it” and I enjoyed relaxing with a book while husband gazed upon the sailing vessels of “yore”. We decided to overnight at the Elks Club in Rockland which permitted Ken time to get the Vue serviced and broke up our trip to Baaar Haaaarbaaaa (the correct down East pronunciation, we understand). We decided on Route 1 as opposed to I-95 in order to enjoy the beautiful Maine coastline that is absolutely spectacular in its scenic beauty. Our friend Bruce told us that Maine has one month of summer. If that is true, we were treated to Maine’s best as the weather has been fantastic.
Tuesday, August 9, we were greeted by early morning fog that accompanied us into Bar Harbor and served as a reminder that all days are not perfect. However, once at our Camp site overlooking the islands off the coast, all seemed perfect and “life was good”. The weather holds in the high 80's and 90's but always a nice cool breeze brings comfort and perfection. Once “en residence” we did a “drive about” downtown Bar Harbor and concluded that we should extend our stay another day. Each day our enthusiasm for the East Coast, and Maine especially, grows.
We started Wednesday with a trip to Acadia National Park and a drive around with enough “hikes” to provide our exercise for the day. We traveled to the Southeast Harbor where we caught a “mail boat” (they use this term loosely in Maine) trip to Cranberry and Isladorah Islands. (Little Cranberry Island) Cranberry Island didn’t have much to keep our attention but Little Cranberry had a restaurant where we enjoyed lunch on the “terrace” (porch?). As we returned to Southeast Harbor a 150 - 200 ? foot private yacht came in behind us. I maintained it was a cruise boat of some sort while Ken was sure it was a private yacht. As usual, “he who knows everything” was right so we watched them try to bring the ship in bow first which didn’t work. They got it into the slip but some enlightened “yachtie aboard” discovered they couldn’t get on or off the boat so they had to back it in. Of course, all of this maneuvering drew a crowd and when it finally became obvious that they were docked, Ken started the car and I announced to those standing around our car that “we had done all that we could so we were moving on”. They seemed amused, Maine or no.
Thursday morning we did laundry, cleaned the coach and prepared for our entry into Canada and Quebec City. Thursday night, we stopped at a camp site in West Fork on the Kennebec River. After breakfast Friday morning, we hiked a long mile down to some falls that were, in my opinion, marginally interesting. However, the two mile hike was worth it inasmuch as it provided needed exercise.
After our hike through the woods, we returned to the coach and took to the road for Quebec City where we gained an introduction to the bizarre attitude of the residents of the Provence of Quebec. We visited Quebec City, Montreal, Ottawa, Sudbury and Sault Ste Marie on a previous trip to Canada but we were, nevertheless, taken aback by what seemed a definite “elitist” and, perhaps, anti-American attitude. For a country where 2/3 of the people speak English, Quebec does not have any road or street signs in English and like France, if you don’t speak the language, “may the force be against you”. Hopefully, people did not understand English any better than they let on because I had some choice words for them that I expressed in English. If their understanding of English was greater than they let on, they got an ear full from one “ugly American”. I didn’t want to disappoint them and make them feel that their attitude against non French speaking people was inappropriate.
More about our visit to Quebec in my next posting.
