Quebec City

We crossed into Canada 3 separate times thus far, and the 3rd time has been my favorite! We crossed at the Vermont/Canadian border and from the moment we came into Canada, we felt that we'd been transported across seas to some glorious French countryside. (At least what I would imagine a French countryside to look like). The homes and barns are picturesque and provided us so much eye-candy to entertain us while we bounced and bumbled down the roughly paved country roads. (Sadly most of the photos I took of the "french-like architecture" on the countryside were all a blur but we salvaged a few). I kept pretending that I was actually in France since most of the signs were in French with km, arrête, and sortie, and I very much felt like a fish out of water, even tho my familiar America home was only a few hours south of us. I kept thinking that we should be driving on the other side of the road... the foreign feeling overtook me.

We made our way through many quaint towns and finally arrived at our campground. We pulled up during a bit of a cloudy, dreary, downpour and Fletcher turned to me anxiously, "what will we do if they don't speak English?!" We looked around at the packed out campgrounds and were regretting that we had not made reservations beforehand. We've been making reservations "day of" this time around.

Insert Rabbit Trail here: The first 2 months that we now lovingly refer to as our "trial run", were full of missed reservations, surprise breakdowns, lost deposits, and disappointed hearts. We vowed to not be so foolish again so we are more flexible in our plans this time around- and thus far, it has served us well. The peace found in this kind of flexibility is surprising as I used to think that peace came from a well-planned and meticulously-executed mission. I guess there are two types of peace: one where my mind rests because I think I know what is coming, and one where my heart rests in my solid footing that no matter what comes, we'll be alright and be able to make the most of it. Things seem to have been easier with this new "very loose plan"- we know a general direction that we'd like to go, but almost everyday's plans are so loosely held so that we might make detours should the opportunity appeal to us. Anyway, back to the story:

Fletch and I stare out at the "vision" before us... the campground looks roughly like an old run-down theme park. There is a fountain in the front that is no more than a beat up concrete pool, painted turquoise, with a visible pipe squirting water. A children's playground is directly beside that has certainly been well loved, and the RV's that are crammed in the front section of the grounds are a mix of motor homes and mobile homes. Many appear to have lost their mobility and have been there for ages. We were concerned that this may not even be a place for campers- other than the fact that the sign out front said RV campground- surely, it wasn't a misprint. "May as well give it a shot. Worst thing that happens, is we turn back around and look for a place with internet so we can find a new plan." Oh yes, not having signal out here in Canada only added to the mystery, curiosity and sometimes frustration of this adventure. With nowhere to look up translations, yelp reviews, advice or directions, it was just us, our instincts, a paper map, and hope of kind English-speaking local that might be willing to help us naïve Americans.

Fletcher walks inside and I can barely make out what is happening from the foggy- rain-covered windows- worrying all the while that he may be "kicked out" for being American. I have not told yall the story of our very first crossing into Canada, but it gave us such fear that everyone hated us Americans, that we've been slightly on edge ever since. I can see that he is talking to someone (that seems hopeful), and then he makes his way out to the RV with a stack of papers, books, and maps and a big smile on his face. "We got a place!" he says. A large French man with long wavy hair (think cross between Gerard Depardieu, Danny Devito, and Andre the Giant) follows him out and hops onto a golf cart. The man on the cart drives to the very back of the surprisingly massive campground packed with RV's and campers. We pull into one of the last spots available, on the last row, without the normal plug-ins for the RV that we're used to. Still, Fletch assures me that it will work great for a night or two. He says that the French fellow is wonderful and probably one of the nicest people he's ever met.

I get to meet him before he returns to the front office, and discover that his name is Rock! Awesome name! Suits him well. He keeps encouraging us to stop by his office so he can help us with any other questions we may have. His thick accent comes through on every syllable, but his sincerity and eagerness to help us make the effort to understand each other well worth it. I later meet his wife, and she is equally delightful. A very petite, slender woman with very short hair- the complete opposite to our new friend Rock (most likely spelled Roch since it's French). She doesn't speak much English so we "sign" to each other and talk about our families in noun and adjective-only sentences. "My husband? Yes, wore a hat. Also 2 girls." hold hand up to show they are small and say "5 years. 3 years old". She responds: "oui" 2 fingers out... "sons... seventy... no, seventeen?" "yes" "20." hand held high above head "tall". HUGE smiles on both of our faces, hands over our hearts, beaming with pride at our families and our "great achievement" to communicate despite language barriers!

Not only does the kindness of our new French friends change our first impressions of the glamping site, but the sunlight of the next day makes the place feel warm and lively. Note to self: everything looks worse when you are tired of driving and it's muddy and rainy. I'm glad that we stuck around and gave it a second chance. It turned out to be a very comfortable place for us to call "home" for a few days.

The next day is reported to be cloudy and rainy, but we take the ferry to Quebec City anyway, recalling the Mackinac Island experience and determining that even rainy days can be magical. We've been told that parking is nearly impossible, and very expensive but the ferry is only $7 roundtrip, and free for kids. A steal of a deal, plus we get to ride on a boat again!

The unexpected ferry and boat rides have been some of the highlights of this trip for me. Not only do the beautiful views from the deck captivate me, but the rocking of the boat and the smell of the ship remind me of rides at Disneyworld or the feeling of getting on a cruise boat for the first time: invigorating, hopeful, alive! It awakens my heart and opens my spirit to even more of the adventure God is taking us on.

I feel alive by the water; something I'm realizing more and more. I feel a steadying sense of calm right alongside utter exhilaration. I'm adding "cruising around the world" to my bucket list, truly!

The views of Quebec are astonishing! The city is bursting with charm, beauty, and "foreign city flare". The French accent like an unknown song surrounding us and live music from various street performers echo throughout the stone city. The accordion, harmonica, and harp- playing every "frenchy-romantic song I know" ... "la Vie en rose" seeming to be their favorite tune, which is fine with me. (insert heart eyes emoji here). More magic. More awe. More dream come to real life.

Everything is built on hillsides in Quebec: winding to-and-fro, ever calling you upward. "If THIS street is so magnificent, I can't wait to discover what's waiting on the next level." Up and up and up the steep inclines to even more breathtaking views. I could fill this page with more description of it's intricate beauty and enchanting scenery, but instead I'll post a plethora of photos and let them take over...

While everything was full of wonderment, we felt the "communication barrier" weigh on us. While most of the waiters, or shop owners spoke some English, there was certainly a tension and fear of confusion that hung around most of the day. Fletcher and I even experienced our own communication breakdown at various moments. At one point, we realized that this feeling that people aren't understanding us is just perceived and we needed to work to fight it. We are not helpless and with patience and determination, we can be understood. We worked extra hard the rest of the day to guard against easy miscommunication that would try to steal from the connection and richness that this trip held for all of us.

A few highlights for me were dinner at this pizzeria that a local from a coffee shop recommended to us. The girls made fast friends with the chef making the pizzas, Alvin. He spoke excellent english and entertained them throughout dinner, or maybe they were doing the entertaining; a bit of both I expect.

While we were inside eating dinner, a rainstorm passed overhead. (This being the only rainstorm of the supposedly "dreary day" that the weather report predicted. Rather, the day was magnificently sunny, clear-skied, and comfortably cool). We were oblivious to the downpour until we left the restaurant and saw the dripping umbrellas and the cobblestone streets glistening in the city light. We had considered taking a horse buggy to get us back down the hill to the ferry, but the city glow beckoned us to take our time and soak in it's priceless views. We slowly strolled with the girls, stopping for photos and swings and musicians. Emery pleasantly hopping and skipping, and Lissy resting quietly in the stroller.

At one point I was so caught up in God's goodness that I asked Emery what God was telling her right then. She put her hands on her heart, closed her eyes, and then exclaimed, "He's saying jump for joy! Jump for Joy! ...What does that mean mom??" I told her that jump for joy means she can jump and be happy. I suggested that God was telling her that He was a fun God and wanted her to have joy, jump, and be happy too! She laughed and agreed loudly that "God was the most fun man she'd ever met!" haha! She jumped around the park for a few moments and then continued the infectious laughing and sporadic jumping all the way back down to the ferry.

We all experienced the magic of Quebec, not that it came effortlessly, mind you. I am quite comfortable being "mother hen" and can spot possible dangers at every turn. I was concerned about Emery's silliness causing her to fall, slip, or accidentally end up in the street, but the encouragement from my FUN God telling her to jump for joy, helped quiet my own over-anxious fears and enjoy her 5-year old enthusiasm!

Yet another lesson to add to this trip: I am learning to enjoy my children's child-likeness, and slowly but surely, I'm balancing my need for caution, wisdom and dare I say, control, with the joyful peace of trusting and resting in Him.

The ride back to Levís on the ferry was a perfect place to snuggle with my girls and reflect on the "perfection" of our day in Quebec- our petit goût de (little taste of) France! Yet another dream to add to the Bucket List: Go to France and see if your assumptions are correct.

Fortune Cookie Thought: Bucket Lists should be the one check-list that never gets completed. It would seem that once you "cross off" one glorious dream, three more eagerly fight to take it's place. Let them come. The world is truly a BIG and wondrous place with infinite magical moments waiting to be experienced. I say: bring it on, world! Bring it on!

Do you have a magical moment that you think we should add to our growing list? If so: TELL US! Either leave us a comment below or post your idea here- we love hearing from you!

Want to feel like you are journeying with us?

Angie