Quebec

Concrete works, not the first thing you expect to see after traversing down the mighty St Lawrence seaway, after passing under those majestic power pylons taking power to the south of Canada having experienced forests tumbling down to the rivers edge, small hamlets with their own small docks nestling into folds of land laying serenely just above the hide tide mark, opulent buildings perched on top of wooded hillsides like eagles eerie's with magnificent views of the broad sweeping river on its journey to the sea. The practical side of me wonders about forest fires and if they can get insurance and I bet it's a bugger to get out of when it snows an what about bears? Did you see what happened there the practical side overcame the romantic, anyway back to Quebec, apparently there were four other cruise liners in port before us and we had to make do with a berth in the commercial port, hence the stunning view of the concrete works, the gravel plant and the ship yard basin dry dock. I must be honest for such a beautiful and unusual city that Quebec undoubtably is it posses one of the least interesting approaches to port, but that is just being picky as we have had some stunners this trip, just take New York. Once we were cleared to go ashore a fleet of Yellow style American school buses presented themselves to act as the free shuttle service between the ship and the City. If felt I had become an extra in the Partridge Family (60s TV show that made David Cassidy) after a short run into the edge of the old City with the skyline being dominated by turrets, spinnerets and towers mainly green in colour and the proud flag of Quebec fluttering from all of them I walked across a dual carriageway and back into a time capsule. The small criss cross of cobbled streets ever winding upwards to the high arts of the old city are amazing and delight to explore and experience. Having to make several stops on m upward trek I was able to listen to the chirp of the local French accent (Those of you who know me will know that France is no my favourite country or people) it has a lovely sing song lilt an is not harsh to the ear sending you scuttling for an umbrella and raincoat when someone gets into full flow, admit idly all the hand actions and shrugs are still there but or me the greatest of delights was when these friendly people realised you were an English speaking visitor and spoke in such a pleasing accent I found myself asking questions just so I could listen to the accent. I won't bog you down with sites any guidebook will give you a far more informed outlook than mine, it is a great place to wander and just see where yo turn up. I must mention the Chateau de Frontenac which dominates the skyline and for an old train spotter like me the Funicular railway that connects the lower town to the upper town and has great views. While waiting to catch the shuttle back to the ship I sat on a bench  close to the Marina and settled down to some observing, one of the first things I noticed was how fit the locals are and how hard they work at it with dedicated running/cycle ways laid out, the amount of Lycra on display was enough to ignite a box of matches, not only runners and cyclists solo and tandem but also skateboarders, roller bladers, power walkers, dog walkers with dogs so big if you got tired you could saddle it and ride home. I also noticed how few medium size dogs were about but how many small dogs were being carried in bags and tucked inside coat with cute little heads stuck out, more a fashion statement than a practical dog. Compared to the States in Quebec I have hardly seen a fat person until I looked in the plate glass window opposite my bench. At that point along came the bus, thankfully we all waddle on board the springs just about held out back to the port in time for us to have an afternoon cream tea and ponder what we have learnt today, there are a lot of hills in Quebec, but you are only visiting.