The surrounding countryside of I’ile d’Orleans and Charlevoix are pastoral counterpoints to Quebec City’s old-world charms.
‘You’ll have to speak French in Quebec!” I was warned time and again about the lack of English in the provincial capital of Quebec. But despite my virtually non-existent high school French, I was unflappable. Quebec City has long been regarded as a slice of Europe in North America. While cruising along Boulevard Champlain as follows the sweeping St. Lawrence River, it is easy to see why.
Rugged Canadian Shield cliffs and brightly colored clapboard houses fly past us as we attempt to find our bed and breakfast, Hayden’s Wexford House along Rue Champlain.
A tousled gray-haired man in his 50s, dressed casually in worn jeans and a T-shirt, greets us with a hearty handshake as he opens the door.