Category: Canada Summer 2022

We had an uneventful drive north, which turned increasingly pleasant as we drove up the Northway above Albany. The trip was a hair more than 7 1/2 hours, with lunch and charging…faster than the trip to Stowe!

Our hotel, the Alt Montreal, is new seeks to be stylish, in a minimalist sort of way. But the room is pleasant and the bed comfortable, so no one is complaining. We’re staying in Griffintown, a huge complex of condominium high rises within walking distance of downtown.

After a very brief rest, we took an Uber to the area near McGill University and walked up Boulevard Saint Laurent in search of the huge street murals that have sprung up here. They were huge, but most of the artists seem to have watched a few too many video games. I thought this typical college district was kind of fun, but the shabbiness was not to my companion’s liking, and we walked along Duluth, a street that had been turned into a pedestrian area lined with bars and restaurants, until we came to the Boulevard Saint Denis, which is more “grown up.” We had a nice glass of wine at a joint called Josephine and then jumped in a second Uber for the ride to our restaurant, Ile Flottante.

The restaurant is a strange admixture of discordant elements. Small, with walls painted black, and with lots of hard surfaces, the young crowd has no trouble keeping the noise level high. So the atmosphere is decidedly casual. But the food is rather fussy and even a bit pretentious: sort of 1980’s in New York, with each dish composed of many, many tiny bits. Some of it works very well: the first three courses were great. A ceviche with black bass; a play on Italian wedding soup, with shrimp and scallop balls in place of meatballs; and a lovely use of zucchini, very subtlety sauced. Course four was a virtual disaster: eggplant with a very heavy spiced mayonnaise. Five almost returned to form: the delicious mushroom ravioli were less delicious than they should have been, brought down by too much vinegar in a foam on top. Six, the “pre-dessert” was excellent: rice ice cream with plums dusted with cocoa. I can’t really report on the final dessert course. Tom is the original meat and potatoes man, and the long meal, and especially all the vegetables and fish were more than he could take. He left and waited outside, followed by Emily, and Sue and I had a few bites of macerated blueberries and another ice cream before hurrying out. Tom pronounced the meal the worst he’d ever had. Sue and I thought it had its moments…but we wouldn’t go back.

We started the day with chow from our millennial-friendly hotel “cafe.” Things could only go up from here. Here’s Sue trying digest her croissant.

We had driven straight to the hotel the night before, and needed a bit of a charge. There is a “supercharger” near old Montreal: you drive into a pay garage and charge for free…at 76 kw/hr, or about half of a V1 Supercharger on the highway. But no matter, it was still pretty quick and we were soon parking near the Place des Armes.

That’s Paul de Chomedoy, Sieur de Maisonneuve, the first governor of the colony of Montreal, presiding over the square. Montreal’s cathedral, the Basilica de Notre Dame de Montreal, sits regally over the square.

The Basilica was built in Gothic Revival Style between 1824-1829 by the Irish-American architect James O’Donnell. The interior is surprisingly lovely; it took its inspiration from the Saint-Chapelle in Paris.

Next door to the cathedral is the old Sulpician Seminary, the oldest remaining building in Montreal.

We had a really good lunch at a place called Dandy in the old town; the crispy fingerlings with aioli were especially good!

We then wandered down to the port. Half the city seems to be a construction site!

The city has done a fantastic job with the waterfront, with a lovely park running between the lowest street and the wharves.

From the port, you get a good view onto the islands that had housed Expo ‘67, Canada’s enormously successful World’s Fair. The best known structure form the Expo, Moshe Safdie’s “Habitat,” is still in use as a condominium complex.

Just behind the port sit two grand structures. The Marche Bonsecours was built in neo-classical style in the early 19th century. It now houses rather fancy crafts stores and a few restaurants and bars.

The building behind it is the Chapelle de Notre Dame de Bonsecours. It served as a seaman’s chapel in the seventeenth century, and was expanded and rebuilt in 1771.

After a siesta we drove up to the summit of Mont Royal, with its splendid 360 views; we then skedaddled down the hill for our dinner reservation. Monarque should be the prototype of the big city brasserie: the space is stunningly beautiful, divided into three sections that run an entire block. The front section has a long bar with tables against a wall; the middle section is called the brasserie and is the smallest of the three; and the largest is the dining room. The place is extremely lively and exudes happiness. We had a wonderful meal: Sue and I both started with a terrine of foie gras and moved on to bouillabaisse. We also splurged on a little Burgundy, a Rully, and it was memorable. One of our best nights out in a long while.

Up bright and early for the journey up the Saint Lawrence. The Autoroute between Montreal and Quebec City is kind of a joke: narrow lanes, no shoulders, terrible pavement, and bumper to bumper traffic. Once across the Pierre Laporte Bridge just west of Quebec, we circled the city to the north and were soon back on the river, but this time on the north bank. The river seems enormous at Quebec…but we hadn’t seen anything yet. The first 40 minutes north of the city are on a road as busy and as ugly as Route 1 in New Jersey. But the traffic virtually disappeared as we passed Ste. Anne de Beaupré (and its bizarrely huge church) and the road turned inland and began climbing and descending through mountain passes (the highest at a bit over 3000 feet) and gorgeous scenery. As the road turned back toward the river the view north up river opened up and we all gasped: the Saint Lawrence is virtually an inland sea by this point. At La Malbaie, our destination, the river is about ten miles across, and it is salt water. One of the activities, far from the ocean, is whale watching!

La Malbaie (Murray Bay) has been a leisure destination since the late nineteenth century. There is apparently splendid hiking and paddling in the mountains, and both alpine and Nordic skiing in the winter. And it is hard to imagine a more beautiful landscape.

The Fairmount Manoir Richelieu is a typical mega resort from around 1900: four hundred rooms, multiple restaurants, etc. But the setting is spectacular. On a cliff above the river, the hotel is flanked by several terraces descending toward the water, with bars and restaurants on each.

Across the river is the Gaspé peninsula, visible here.

Don’t know why the twins were particularly somber here.

Our room was fine, perfectly comfortable, but nothing special. You pay for the location and the scenery…and pay, and pay, and pay.

We had a very good dinner in town at an auberge called Chez Truchon. I had more foie gras and venison, Sue smoked mackerel and a tenderloin. All washed down with a surprisingly affordable 2016 St. Emilion Grand Cru.

We had been eating late, and we were all ready to hit the hay when we stood up from the table close to 11!

So today brought us to the reason for the trip: Les Jardins de Quatre Vents, a private garden open only four days each year. Sue and I had coffee on the terrace overlooking the river, then we took the short drive to the garden. We were reconciled to a tour in French, but there were enough English speakers to put together an English-language tour.

The huge property along the river was acquired in 1902; Frank Talbot began developing it as a garden in the 1950’s. The summer house is a charmingly modest farmhouse in French provincial style.

There are a couple of dozen separate gardens linked around the house. Cabot was especially interested in thematic gardens, often organized around picturesque vistas or perspectives.

The main lawn has sweeping views down to the bay below.

This photo also highlights another element uniting the gardens: water that flows from the rushing mountain stream on the property. Cabot was clearly interested in reflection.

There were of course some gorgeous borders, but the gardens are finally not about flowers.

As you walk further from the house, you enter the woods and a series of much less formal gardens.

Cabot had seen a Moon Bridge in China, and recreated one at Quatre Vents.

The gardens border on lovely farmlands; Cabot had the upright stone in the middle distance placed in the center of this field.

Probably the most intriguing part of the garden is the series of reflecting pools leading to a large folly.

Behind the folly is a maze…as we walked, we began to hear music…first Dixieland and then a string quartet. Here are our entertainers.

At this point, our guide suggested that Tom be led on a different path: our way led us into a deep ravine over very rough cobbled paths…to a Japanese garden centered on a meditation pavilion built over a period of ten years by a master carpenter from Japan.

Cabot clearly had a fondness for the ravine: he placed his own image here.

He had also seen rope bridges over ravines and chasms while trekking in Nepal, and recreated the effect here. You can see that someone is enjoying the garden.

The tour finally led us back up out of the ravine, emerging below the house and above the pool.

Here’s a final shot of our unusually congenial group. The others were from Ontario, Seattle, and a family with Arizona ties, parents and a married son and wife. It turns out the that the young woman had attended my high school!