Jacques and Gilles Villeneuve are in the hearts of all Quebecers on the freeways and like the track they don't signal, they cut you off, drive erratically and occasional shout gestures from their cars. Those are the good qualities of their driving.
The side roads in the Laurentian's are dotted with quaint towns strews with cafe's, churches, boutiques, and wineries and old men always wanting to tell you yet another story. Today began with a dip in the lake alone in the serene quiet of the mountains. Hal waited patiently on the shores with towel in hand truly wishing he was part of the polar bear club. We strolled onto the 138 highway below St. Donat and watched the morning come alive. Undulating hills rolled by on a motorcyclist dream road, curves banked bends and corners that begged you to lean into them with immaculate surface features were incomparable. Town after town we searched for the perfect Press Café shop, by the time we found one the coffee was mediocre leaving Hal yearning another one 1/2 later.
The heavy forested land gave way to farming of soya, I know soya bean plants, corn, wheat, barley, and geometrically stationed vineyards, hosting patrons in farmhouse styles that dated back 200 years. Wine didn't touch our pallets today but Hal is always in search of a grand new brewery to try out and Quebec has a myriad of microbreweries.
We owe the boys a hat off for finding our route into Quebec City. Within minutes of taking the wrong route they were texting us how to redirect ourselves and the Jackie Stewarts of the road where at the hotel, showered, and for Hal shaved and en route to explore the magnificence of its history in less than half an hour.
Hal having taught Gr. 5 and 6 social - Canadian History was like having a personal historian along. The battlefields, the fortifications, the St. Laurence had Hal in awe for more than 6 hours as the evening wore on. We ducked into a well served brewery that served 24 beers on tap. With a glass in hand and our second attempt at poutine with BBQ sauce, wouldn't recommend it, stick to the original, we scouted out into the touristic streets near the Chateau Frontenac and squeezed ourselves between the tiny roads, hordes of tourists, and truly talented street musicians, hurling fire, swords, balls, wagons, and one another into the air, whilst singing, dancing, doing acrobatics on unicycles. Horse drawn carts moseyed amongst the throngs in the heat, humidity and our hearts went out to them, it barely cooled down to the low 20's at night.
The soft pillows of our upgraded suite beckoned me, no amount of wine, good food could keep my eyes open, not even the terrible news of Robin Williams death. How is it that those that bring such joy to our lives, are often so troubled themselves.
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