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Published: November 7th 2009
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Going into Quebec I had to remind myself that I wasn't entering a different country. I needn't have bothered, since it was exactly like being in a different country.
Montreal
Montreal was nice - an older city, with some interesting architecture and lots of night life. I couchsurfed with a native - Nathalie - who took me on a quick guided tour of the city when I arrived, which included a trip to her favourite place to sample the local delicacy, Poutine. This is a weird dish consisting of chips, covered in cheese curds and a generous helping of gravy. Tasted better than it sounds. People here seemed to be fairly bilingual, and I was greeted in shops and cafes with a cheery "Bonjour Hi!".
There is a large hill in the middle of the city, which locals proudly refer to as a mountain, and which gave the city it's name: Mont Royal.
Whilst in Montreal I went to the cinema to see a documentary called "It Might Get Loud" - a properly indulgent muso thing with Jimmy Page, The Edge and Jack White talking about electric guitars. Nice. I also saw a reggae band (good), a
local pop rock band (not so good), and a modern jazz band (awful). The latter had the saving grace of a double bassist who was so 'into it' he continuously pulled bizarre facial expressions, and looked like he was forcing a difficult shit. I left when I started laughing inappropriately.
Canadians in general make a big deal out of Halloween, and the shops were full of related paraphernalia, costumes etc. It's an excuse for a big party here (in addition to the whole trick-or-treat thing), and Quebec was no exception - both Montreal and Quebec City had their fair share of buildings dressed with spiders webs, pumpkins, witches and skeletons.
Quebec City
Quebec City was really nice, and is apparently the oldest city in North America. I arrived in the middle of a blizzard with at least four inches of snow on the ground, so the 2km walk to the hostel - fully laden with backpack - up the steep hill into the old walled city was... interesting. The architecture here was great, and the snow made it look like one of those cheesy christmas cards showing a Victorian winter scene. Many of the buildings sported huge
murals that were so lifelike they warranted a double-take.
But it wasn't quite so friendly if you were a native English speaker. I went out one night to a small bar that the Lonely Planet said had live music on. It was pretty quiet when I walked in. I got a pint and asked if they had anybody playing that night. I was told yes, but in such a way that I was aware my presence there was something of a novelty. Undeterred, I sat down in what I thought was a quiet corner and waited for the music to start. And when it did, the guy with the guitar singled me out in a bit of between-song banter, which up until this point had all been in French. The change in language immediately got the entire crowd's attention. It went a bit like this:
Singer: "We have a gentleman here from..." (looks at me, as does the entire crowd) "Where you from?"
Me (slightly unnerved): "England." (This met by a blank look) "Angleterre!"
Singer (with some disdain): "Ah! Britain. A Brit!"
This was met with deeply ironic cries of "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!" from various members of
crowd.
I remember feeling quite small.
He then launched into Oasis' Wonderwall, presumably as some sort of tribute to my Britishness, but in a marvellous french accent ("Bow now, you shooda some'ow realise whatcha gonnadooooo" etc.)
Determined not to be put off by this, I stayed for the entire night, which mostly consisted of rousing and boisterous folk songs with which the crowd joined in with gusto. They reminded me of rugby songs, but they were more along the lines of "Vive la Quebec" and so on. The place didn't really get going until about midnight when it was packed, and more people came on and sang more "We Love Quebec" style songs, to the joy of the crowd, who seemed to know all the words. As it filled up, I shared my table with some locals, only one of whom spoke any English. But we all got on ok, bought each other drinks, and by the time I stumbled out into the cold night at 2am I was more than a little hammered. The hangover the next day was frankly appalling.
Tadoussac
Tadoussac is a small town further north on the shores of the
St. Lawrence River, with even less English-speaking tolerance, or so it seemed to me. There was the distinct whiff of separatism in the air here, and I had to get by entirely on my schoolboy French, which out of necessity improved dramatically. My room mate at the hostel was French, and his English was as bad as my French, but we got on ok, and between us managed to book ourselves on a whale watching trip. This was in a Zodiac inflatable, which was exciting enough, but seeing the Beluga and Minke whales was pretty special. He said he was being treated with the same mild racism as I was - apparently if you're not from Quebec, you're just not worthy.
I ought to point out that this wasn't racism in the
proper sense - it was more akin to walking into a remote rural pub, where everybody stops talking and stares at you, and the barman says something like "We don't take kindly to strangers in these parts". But this was by no means my only impression of Quebec people, most of whom were friendly and helpful if you scratched the surface a bit. For example, I found
myself stranded at a cafe in St. Simeon where the bus had dropped me, and where I intended to get the ferry across the river to Riviere du Loup. There was a snowstorm in full effect, there was thick snow on the ground, and I realised that the ferry terminal was about three miles away. I asked the waitress (in my halting french) if there was a bus, but apparently there were no buses to the ferry. She then rang for a taxi for me, but they weren't running either because of the snow. The situation was looking a bit desperate - I really didn't fancy walking the three miles through the snow with my backpack - but the waitress then asked around the cafe and found someone willing to give me a lift to the ferry terminal! Vive La
Québécois!
A Country in Conflict
It seems to me that Canada has a number of ongoing internal conflicts, much of which is swept under the carpet and ignored by those not directly affected:
• European settlers vs. First Nations peoples
• Logging and Mining industries vs. Environmental interest groups
• East Coast vs West Coast
•
North vs South
French-speaking Quebec vs English-speaking rest-of-the-country just seems to be another.
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Andy Walmsley
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Another great post Stu and look forward to the next instalment. I see the cooler weather is moving into Canada, much the same here to be honest, so you're not missing much. All the best, Andy