Gaspesie, Oui Oui!

Day 15

We slept last night just west of Rimouski, the town on the southern banks of the St. Laurent where ferries to Sept Isles and Ise D' Anticosti come and go. We thought we might like to take one of these ferries, but alas, they have been booked for months. Poor planning, or missed opportunity, you might think, but no. The stress of making an arbitrary date when you are traveling by moto is more than you can imagine. The most important reservation to make when traveling as we are is, simply, for time itself. You must leave room for breaking down, for exhaustion, for shitty weather, and also for breathtaking views, enchanting towns, new friends and all things serendipitous. In other words, we don't care about the ferries.

Besides, if we'd taken a ferry, we would not have been acquainted with this amazing peninsula: the Gaspesie. It is where the northern most fingers of the Appalachian range dip, finally, into the sea. It defines the southern border of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. It was once home to the Micmacs, the indigenous people present when the first Frenchie planted his tri-colored flag here in the mid 1500's. It, currently, contains one major road, the 132, which, as it rounds the peninsula, runs est and est, no ouest.

Along the 132 est is the river to your left, always, and to your right are either tiny fishing villages, or the soft, familiar ridges of the Appalachian mountain chain. Many fishing villages are marked by church steeples, usually a shiny silver. We haven't gotten close to them yet, so I don't know whether they are painted silver or silver metal. Either way they shimmer in a way that is, I imagine, especially pretty in the bleak winter months. The towns are also now full of Poissoneries, or lobster shops. There are also wind farms, like we saw out west. For the last two days, we have seen long tractor trailers hauling the single blades of these massive windmills. Today, we stopped at a rest area that had one of the blades out for display. They are huge, and beautiful, like sculpture.

Quebec Flag

There are no “super markets” out here, so grocery shopping gets fun. We are very good at belting out a pretty natural sounding bonjour and merci, but that's about it. Everyone has been overly friendly about speaking English with us. It's almost embarrassing. Once we have purchased our groceries, they get packed straight into one of the saddle bags, which means they are removed from most of their packaging right away. We have a pretty good system now, we know where the bottle of wine gets stowed and what crackers will hold up during the ride.

Just after one of our grocery stops, we break at a particularly appealing halte municipale. It's on a cliff, on green grass, with the dark blue sea sparkling in the distance. There is a path that slips through a little gate, and we take it. It leads us down a steep, wildflower lined path to another smaller cliff, this one covered in dark pebbles warmed in the sun. We have some water and a granola bar, then I lie down, then I feel the Pirate smooth the hair away from my forehead so he can lie with me, and we both sleep like babies, lulled by the warmth of the sun and the sound of the surf, for an hour.

Restored from our little nap, we coast along one of the most beautiful rides I've ever been on. We dip by the water where it is cold, then up into the conifer forest where it is warmer. The Girl glides along as though she is truly happy, and not just a machine. We see fat, shining seals sunning themselves on round boulders that stand about 3 feet up from the water. There are seagulls and loons.

Our campground tonight is across the street from the Forillon National Park. We are perched at the edge of a verdant cliff, exactly 100 feet above the sea. Our view is straight out into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. As we set up our camp, we see a few seals playing, and then an unmistakable break in the surface of the water, and spray. It's way out in the water, but I can see it with my naked eye. It doesn't surface flat, like a submarine, it arcs, like a huge black porpoise. It's an Orca, the first I've ever seen in the wild. It's all alone, so it doesn't stay long.

The Pirate builds a fire and cooks a steak over the flames on a flat rock. We don't have salt with us right now, so he wraps it in the last of the smoked prosciutto. I make rice with garlic and red peppers. We open a bottle of our favorite cheap red wine up here, Notre Vin Maison, and then the skies also open and it pours. We scramble into the tent for our steak dinner. We are safe and dry and eating like royalty.

We fall asleep to the sound of the surf below, and the rain pounding the tent.

Fast n' French

Day 14

It's our last morning in Quebec City. We decide that we need to have several breakfasts. First, we head to a little cafe for dark roast coffees and croissant. Then, to “Chez Ashton”, a local chain begun as a chips truck back in the day. They are famous for poutine. So, once our concierge heard that we'd had poutine in Ontario only, she wrinkled her nose and looked as us like southerners would look at someone who's only had grits in New Jersey. She suggested we hightail it to Chez Ashton, which is open 24 hours, and get us some real Quebecoise poutine (pronounced poo-TEEN here in Quebec).

Chez Ashton does not disappoint. It's fast, and delicious, and we get to order our poutines “bebe” sized. Who wouldn't love something in “bebe” size? Anyway, we order the traditional with just cheese curds and gravy, and also a sausage one, which simply has added sliced hot dogs. It's delicious, and it sticks with us for the next six hours.

The ride away from the city is beautiful, even though we're on the highway. We choose to take the highway once again, mostly because it's the last time it will be an option for the next 1,000 miles. Seriously. We are headed ever closer to the mouth of the St. Lawrence; as the river widens as gradually and imperceptibly as the expanding belly of an expecting mother, the roads narrow. On my trusty Rand MacNally paper maps, interstates are blue, and secondary roads are in red, ranging from thin to thick. The roads for the duration of our trip through the Gaspesie are red, medium thick.

The Gaspesie is the bulbous peninsula of Quebec that swells out from the river eastward into the Atlantic. It is marked, so far, by big skies, dark green conifers, views of the ever widening river, rocky outcroppings, expansive boulder strewn tidal flats and adorable wood clad houses. This is the moment we've been waiting for.

We ride for only about 300 km today. That takes around four hours, including a stop to the grocery store. Quebecois groceries are interesting. There is all the pate you could ever want, the take-n- bake pizza are rectangular and very thin, and the wine section knocks it out of the park. Even in the smallest gas stations, there are wine sections. Our grocery basket usually ends up with some sort of cured meat, 6 eggs, water crackers, olives, crunchy almond granola bars, red peppers, avocado and wine. When we aren't living it up in some big city, this is what we eat.

Tonight we are camping with in view of the mighty St Lawrence at the Motel de l'Anse. It's $29 to camp and have use of all the facilities of the campground. As we were arriving in the community building tonight to blog, we discovered a makeshift restaurant. A local Chinese woman cooks a limited dinner menu of her native fare here three nights a week. For $10 we get a heaping plate of pork fried rice, and the adventure of ordering food with the cook, who speaks broken French through her native Chinese.

As I blog, a couple is playing ping pong within feet of me. They speak French, and giggle-y ping ponging French is pretty adorable.

Magnifique

Day 13

We are in love. Well, yes, with each other, but I mean with Quebec City. This is the most romantic, low key, majestically beautiful city that I have ever visited. I don't think I'll be able to leave.

Our morning begins with a stroll to the Walled City in search of breakfast. We head out via rue St. Joseph again, and this time we visit some design stores. The morning is glorious; cool and sunny. We walk under the highway and admire the graffiti, and up another version of the nose bleed staircase we took yesterday. Before long, we are headed through some ancient stone gates, marking the old-old part of the Walled City. The streets get even more narrow, the doorways even tinier, and the scene even more quaint. Most windows have charming little shutters and window boxes. The signs for the businesses hang unassumingly from an iron rod over the door; most are hand painted with gold lettering. The street are surprisingly uncrowded.

The river front is breathtaking. There is a wide boardwalk lined with many park benches over looking the expanse of the St. Lawrence river. Every so often there are gazebos with broad green and white striped roofs. The view is of not only the river, but the distant rolling mountains, the impressive bridges and the town across the river. Along the river front is a massive stone hotel with copper roofing; many pointed gables like the Biltmore House. Some of the roof is being replaced, so there is the new shiny copper beside the older roofing with green patina. There are old couples strolling hand in hand, families video taping the kids, tourists taking pictures, street musicians and us. Still, it is uncrowded.

We decide to skip breakfast and have a hearty lunch. We settle on the Aux Anciens Canadiens, the place were headed to last night. The building is adorable. A steeply pitched, bright red roof with tiny gables and white stuccoes walls, it distinguished itself from all of the gray brick buildings around it. It's a little touristy, the servers are all women who wear the peasant-shirt-with-bustier reminiscent of many a french maid Halloween costume, but with a longer skirt. Undeterred, we settle in and choose a lunch special called the “Quebec tasting platter”. It begins with leek and potato soup, and then amps up right away to a huge platter of meat. The Pirate has died and gone to heaven. There are meatballs with gravy, pig knuckle ragout, a wild meat pie with pastry, maple-y baked beans in pastry, a domestic meat pie with pastry, pork cracklins and homemade ketchup and exactly one boiled potato. It's beautiful and delicious. For dessert, there is maple pie with unsweetened whipped cream; it's amazing.

After lunch we walk down to the very oldest section of the city. It's right by the river, out of the Walled City, down many, many steps. On each landing of the long stairway are alfresco dining areas for tiny restaurants, all full of flowers and hanging baskets. The narrow streets are lined with shops which are all very touristy, but the buildings are really striking. The city has put a lot of effort into beautiful plantings, which are everywhere. We pop into to shops, sit on most of the park benches offered, and eventually manage to circumnavigate the entire Walled City and make it back to the hotel. The Pirate thinks we might have walked about 5 miles today, a good bit of it stairs. My awesome blue shoes I bought have come in handy. This is a great city for walking. I will say that this city is expensive. If you plan to visit, plan to walk and spend money.

After a little break in the hotel room, we head back out for sorbet and the free Cirque de Soleil show. It's right around the corner, staged beneath the highway overpass where we walked this morning. The show is Les Chemins Invisibles, and it was apparently designed just for Quebec City. This is the fourth year they've done it, and it always free. We arrive just a little early, and make our way thorough the gates with the rest of the crowd. For the next 90 minutes, we are spellbound by this beautiful show; clever costumes, remarkable live music, and acrobatics that took my breath away. I love a good Cirque du Soleil, but this one was really stunning. The most amazing thing was that it was all under the highway overpass, which, in most cities, is a foul, damp-ish unofficial homeless shelter at best. In Quebec City it is clean and decorated with atristic, colorful graffiti that has clearly been approved by the city.

Though this city is expensive, the friendly, low key vibe, polite people and remarkable scenery make up for it.