Rivière-du-Loup

One last post about my family's cross-country summer road trip

Rivière-du-Loup was the last stop on our trip. By that point, we had driven through half of all of Canada's provinces in just over a week, seen many sights, drank many drinks, eaten many eats, and beached a bunch of beaches. The auberge we stay at is owned by a sweet couple. The husband is an artist and hangs his art around the house, featuring scenes from lovely spots around Quebec, including one area that we recognized as Gatineau. I like this bed-and-breakfast. It has a lot of lovely places to sit and watch the scenery.

I was surprised at what a lively place Rivière-du-Loup was.  For a town with less than 20,000 people, it had several local micro-breweries, which, honestly, is one of my favourite things about Quebec.  One day I would like to take a beer tour across Quebec.

However, some of the folks here spoke an strange dialect of French. One young man leaned out of his car as he passed my family and yelled out CHING CHONG WONG CHONG.  I'm not familiar with that French phrase.

(Just kidding I know that's not French)
(It's Portuguese, right?)

The waterfalls. IN TOWN. There are waterfalls in town.

Such a lovely town

(By the way,  have you listened to my brand new album yet?)

The only Koreans in Eastern Quebec

Tales from my family's cross-country road trip

Murdochville:

"People live here?" my mother said in shock. "In the middle of the mountains?"

And that was all we had to say.

Rimouski:

As one of the larger cities in Quebec, Rimouski has dozens of restaurants, but we still managed to end up stopping at a Korean restaurant for lunch.

It seemed like a surprising anomaly to find this little Korean spot in the sea of French Canada where it's rarer to see even people of colour, let alone Koreans.

The interior is authentic looking enough, and the menu offers the kind of dishes that Koreans would want to eat, not just what Koreans would expect Canadians to try.  And although the food is served by French Canadian waitresses, eventually the owner introduces herself, a Korean woman who moved here twelve years ago.   She was shocked and delighted to see actual Koreans in her restaurant - she admitted that at first she thought we were Chinese - and she wanted to know all about us.

According to the owner, her family is the only Korean family in the Gaspesie peninsula; it's hard for Koreans to go eat of Quebec City because of the French. A lot of Koreans struggle just to learn English, let alone French. But the owner here lived in France with her husband while he did his PhD there, and now he teaches engineering at the local university. She herself speaks three languages and translates for anglophone customers when her francophone waitresses need help.

She compliments my Korean and is surprised to hear that I am married. "I thought you were in high school," she tells me. "I was going to give you a cookie."

Well, I am nearing thirty but I'm always up for a cookie.

BONUS: From my travel diary, "French words I have learned"

at the world's end in Gaspé

Tales from my family's cross-country road trip

a Supermoon over Gaspé

Our hotel

We arrived in Gaspé in time for the Festival Musique du bout du monde - the music festival at the end of the world. Gaspeg in Micmac means the land's end, or the end of the world, probably because it's at the end of the Gaspesie peninsula, and there is absolutely nothing beyond that point (except Newfoundland, but who cares).  The festival streets were decorated with al these pretty fish, which I called "fin" du monde fishies...Get it? Fin? Fish? End of the world?

For a town of some 15,000, Gaspé had come alive, and the main street was closed off, filled with crowds enjoying the live music, the delicious Quebec beer, the artisan vendors...

washboard man! talk about washboard abs!

We took in the sights, scarfing down chili nachos garnished with cilantros and hot dogs, which thankfully they advertised as "hot dogs" and not "chien chaud" like they do in Gatineau.

I enjoyed the evening excitement, drinking a Quebec microbrewery beer at the bistro bar Brise-Bise, and then headed to bed...

And tried to sleep.  The festival featured a "party de famille" which I had mistakenly translated as a party for the family but it turned out to clearly not be a family event, as it went on well past midnight. But what really kept us up was what sounded like the world' largest djembe jam session outside my hotel window. You know, what irritated me the most about the 3AM drum jam was that it was hippies keeping me awake. HIPPIES.

Gaspé surprsied me with its night life.

Djembe drum jam. HIPPIES.

Gaspé

In the morning, we visited Forillon National Park, and climbed up Mont St. Albans to its summit, with its magnificant view, where I remembered I was afraid of heights.

the beach at the start of the trail...maybe I should have stayed there?

Hiking up

And up....

view of the ocean between the trees

picnic break, eating sandwiches and vegetables from Mom's garden

gorgeous view from the mountain

View from the summit. Uncomfortably high.

After our long hike, we cooled off at Haldimand beach, where I swam in the Atlantic Ocean. I was slightly warmer than the Arctic ocean.

Mom and Dad

In the late afternoon, I went for a run through the town. I discovered the waterfront boardwalk, which was almost hidden from the road, tucked below the cliffs. I saw a young man perche don a cliff, writing poetry in his notebook. Some girls giggled while they waded into the water in their underwear. It was such a peaceful place.

We ate dinner at the whimsical Cafe des Artistes, decorated with a lot of topless mermaids. I ordered a croque monsieur, because you know, French food, followed by an espresso served with vanilla ice cream, which I find to be the perfect representation of a person pretending to be a grown up, but not really.

The djembe drum circle continued for the second night.