Galina Young
Aug. 24th-27th, 2017
It’s 3:30 am. We roll out of bed to begin our first kids-less adventure. We are quiet, each one of us going through our own version of parental hell/guilt. I feel guilty for going to experience things without the kiddies, Sol is feeling bad for stepping out of their lives for 4 days. We, nonetheless, proceed and are excited to experience world, once again, through our own eyes
Dad takes us to Reagan airport. Our first leg takes us out of the country: DC -Toronto. We are in for a view as we catch glimpses of sunrise over still night lit D.C.
A moment later a flight attendant with a lovely French accent comes to summon us from our back row seat into a business class where he proceeds to feed us a lovely hot breakfast. We look at each other quietly in disbelief and stay awake to fully experience a nice unexpected treat.
We sleep on the next leg and before we know it we are in Quebec!! We are picked up by a borderline suicidal cabbie in the Prius who drives like he has never heard of regenerative braking. He flies us into the old town through St. John’s Gate. Instantly, we are on cobble street full of people watching cafes and, through a cracked window, I hear someone play a piano version of La Valse D’Amelie. I feel like we just drove into Audrey Tautou’s movie set.
Cabbie leaves us by our apartment on Ru D’Aurelia which is right inside the walls of the Citadel. As we later learn, the Citadel walls were raised around the old city to protect it from American invaders.
It is too early to check in so we take our roll on through the cobbled streets and settle in a small cafe with saumon fume, latte and a chocolate croissant.
We settle by a large window watching a constant parade of people from all parts of the world. We take our time looking at maps and check out the events for this week in a city.
After lunch, we try to walk with our roll on but it is annoying on cobble streets and we brazenly leave it in the hallway by the apartment with a napkin note on it.
We are now free and running a risk of losing the entirety of our clothes. We take a stroll through a town to a Port du Quebec and back into town. It is full of people and has Paris charm with the easiness of a small town. It is lovely, friendly and has great architecture. This year Canada celebrates 150 years and there are modern art installations scattered all over town: Passages Insolites.
We walk about to spot Dali’s elephant here or a row of wicker boats suspended on the cables over the St. Lawrence River there.
We stop for a drink at le Petit Champlain quarters, pick up some caramel pop corn and brave a steep climb to Terrace Dufferin and then 360 steps up the wall of Citadel. The climb is hard but the view is gregarious.
After, we retreat into our tiny lovely apartment up a wrought iron spiral staircase for a little nap. It’s been ages since we took a nap just because we could. 
As a nightfall settles we stroll through the city towards the port where an event is to take a place. It is described as a giant block of ice and as an art installation with things frozen in time and messages in bottles or something of the kind. We have no idea what to expect but are curious.
Agora Port is dark and quiet… but we walk towards some faint music which becomes more and more prominent. We spot a large crowd and something that looks like a group of bystanders trying to climb the monkey bars in the middle. Our interest is piqued and we settle into a last row of empty seats right as the aforementioned group plunges into a pool of water and breaks into a highly choreographed dance.
We score. We score big. For the next hour we proceed to witness a group of seemingly weightless gymnasts flying about the trampolines, bars, ladders and roofs with highest skill and precision. It is majestic and mystical with lights, performance, art installation and live band accompanying the show.
It is put on by Crepiscule Vents & Marees … and is absolutely free.
We are speechless and are standing up to clap. Truly remarkable show.
On that high note we come back to our street for some late night dinner and notice a creperie that we saw earlier with a long line out of its door. At 10 pm there are only couple of people in line and we pounce at our chance. We awkwardly hang in a tiny space in front of the entrance as the sign instructs us until a girl peeks out and tells us we can come in now. She makes big eyes and I half expect her to raise her index finger to her lips as she is letting us in on a secret: shhh! She places us at a big window overseeing the pedestrian street, beast seat. It is lovely and the crepes are delicious.
Day 2.
We sleep for glorious 9 hours. Wake up leisurely and weave around town to find breakfast. The day is bright and after breakfast we hop on the bikes to go see Chute de Montmorency. It is said to be higher than Niagara Falls.
At the recommendation of the cheerful bike rental shop owner we stop by the farmers market on the way to pick up: un baguette, du fromages, fraises, pommes, et pomodoros. We pack it in and ride an hour out of town. Ride is easy and soon Chute reveals itself. It is glorious and yellow due to iron rich river that’s feeding it.
We park our bikes and ignore a convenient funicular in favor of hoofing it up 500 wooden steps. We regret our decision about third way up but the view is better and better with each step. At the top we hike little into the woods and settle in for our little picnic on the beach by the river.
It is quiet and peaceful with a remote hum of a monstrous waterfall below us. Cheese is stinky and delicious. Apples ar crispy, juicy, and tart.
We walk across the drawbridge just above and see some more including the zip liners that zip by the fall.
We are late to return our bikes and step on it on the way back. The view of Quebec City from the other side of the river is gorgeous.
Back in town we settle again at the coffee shop in front of Notre Dame Des Victoires with our enormous lattes and laze around.
The night changes the town. Even more people are in the streets and every corner reveals a street performer or a musician. We hear guitar, piano, sax, trumpet, harp, and some kind of tribal horn. It is all beautiful. We don’t risk going down from the walls of the bastion that surrounds the top of the town as a thought of walking up any more stairs is just painful.
Day 3.
We wake up in time to go see the changing of the guards at Citadel which is still an active military base. They have British military attire but it is quite amusing to see them marching around in formation alongside a very well cared for goat that is doned in royal blue covering and whose horns, I am quite certain, are painted gold. Goat participates in the ceremony quite actively. We learn that his name is Battise and he is a decedent of a long lineage of royal goats given to Quebec by the Queen. We are so impressed we line up to take pictures with the Battise and his officers.
We see some more street performers at night(students of Quebec circus school) and have dinner by the river. 
