Need to Get Out Before the Revolution

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I’m up early to head to the Citadelle to watch the changing of the guard. Well at least that was the plan until I looked out the window at rain and grey skies, so instead we spend the morning doing very little. The sun eventually appears, but Issy’s decided on a rest day so I head off to the Citadelle alone. There seem to be a lot of soldiers around; I’m stopped at the gate and told that it’s still an active military base. It seems therefore that if I want to see it I need to take a tour. I’m told that if I try to wander around by myself they’ll think I’m a spy, and that mightn’t end well.

We’re told that there‘d been some sort of fortification on this site since the early days of New France, due mainly to its dominant position high on the hill overlooking the River. The Americans tried unsuccessfully to siege Quebec during the American Revolutionary War, and tensions between the Brits and the Americans grew again during their war in 1812. This led to the construction of the current complex which was built between 1820 and 1850.

It’s clearly a significant site. The Canadians hosted Churchill and Roosevelt here for the Quebec Conferences of 1943 and 1944 to discuss World War 2 strategies, and part of the complex is currently the official second residence of the Canadian Governor General.

Our guide tells us that the Citadelle is now the home of the “Royal 22e Régiment”, and she pronounces the title in what sounds to me like perfect French. She then goes on to tell us that it’s a very strict rule that this name is not allowed to be said in English. Huh? She doesn’t make it clear whether or not it’s illegal for anyone in Canada to utter the English translation, but on the off chance that it is I’d better stick to what I’ve written, at least until we’re safely out of the country. It’s apparently Canada’s first French speaking regiment. It was founded at the start of World War I when Canada joined Britain in the war with Germany, to get around the thinking amongst the troops here that it mightn’t be all that beneficial to their health to be ordered around a battlefield in a language they didn’t understand. The background of its coat of arms is a beaver, as apparently one of the main reasons the French first came here was to trap beavers for their fur. That seems like a long way to come for fur, I hope they thought it was worth it. The Regiment has a ceremonial goat, of course it does, and the guy who looks after it has the official title of the Regimental Goat Major. We’re shown into the very depressing Citadelle prison with its tiny cells. The main reasons soldiers were sent here were for being drunk on duty, and for gambling. Our guide had earlier identified me as the only Aussie in the group. She then gets me to identify myself again as she goes on to tell everyone that soldiers who committed more serious crimes were sent to the penal colony of Australia, with a strong emphasis on the “penal colony” thing. I got similar treatment on a tour in Hawaii. Is that really our reputation on the world stage?

I wander down some steep steps into the very cute Lower Quebec which lies on the banks of the River at the base of the massive cape, Cap Diamant, on which Chateau Frontenac and the rest of Old Quebec sit. It was here that Samuel de Champlain set up shop when he first came to these parts in 1608. Some of the remnants of the original settlement are apparently still here somewhere in the very attractive Place Royal.

I collect Issy and we wander into an Italian restaurant in the Old Town in search of dinner. This place couldn’t be more Italian if it tried. We’re told that the owner Luigi (what else) first set up his establishment here more than fifty years ago. The whole place is adorned in Italian paraphernalia and we’re serenaded mid-spaghetti by an accordion player. Our waitress says she’s French Italian, but more Italian, and tells us she loves our accents. She clearly speaks at least three languages fluently, which is two more than either of us can claim, but laments that her English accent is “s**t”. It sounds fine to us, and she’s clearly not short on vocabulary.

I know I’ve had too many sangrias and I’m probably getting sucked in by the whole Italian thing, but I can’t help but worry about what’s going on at the table in the corner behind Issy. These guys just scream Mafia - five men, two of them in suits, talking quietly in a language we can’t understand. We’ve been led to believe that a lot of people in Quebec want it to secede from the rest of Canada, and I’m sure these guys would come in very handy if the locals thought they needed any help with the revolution. I’m suddenly glad we’ll only be here for a couple more days….

We pass a crowd around a street performer on the deck in front of the Château. She’s an Aussie from Queensland, and seems to be doing an excellent job of keeping the crowd entertained twirling fiery hoops and doing acrobatics on the shoulders of volunteers plucked from the audience.

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Comments

[D MJ Binkley]

Quebec City
We haven't been to Quebec City since 1993 and you make me want to return. It is a lovely city.

[DaveandIssy]

Quebec City
Was indeed lovely. A piece of Europe in the middle of North America.