Chapter 73: Escape from Montreal

After a week of debauchery in Montreal, I made it out alive and headed to Quebec City. If the former is stylish, sexy, and slightly tacky, the latter is the wise matriarch of French Canada.

Beautiful, but older, and much classier. Inside the walls of 400 year-old Vieux Quebec, you still get the same feeling of protection from an attack that might come from outside. She's a beautiful sight all lit up at night, and unlike Montreal, still looks good in the morning.

The history is amazing, and once you've been there, it's impossible not to understand how Quebec could be its own country, and why we should continue to do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening.

After Quebec, I spent a day driving around the Gaspe Peninsula. It's rural, struggling economically and very Francophone. If you live here, you speak French first, last and always. There were vineyards, for sale signs and little fromageries everywhere. Despite economic hardships, they aren't giving up on the old standards.

I spoke to one woman who was so serious about her cheese, the fromagerie had actually funded research at the University of Laval to engineer cultures that are not only delicious, but also help your digestive tract. I made a lame attempt at a 'cultural' double entendre. She didn't laugh. Apparently, good taste also applies to humour.

Signposts:

-Kilometres driven: 16,000+

-free cheese samples eaten: 4

-French phrases butchered: countless