Quebeclog

[Velvet]

Quebeclog, Stardate 03030407

After a late start due to my job at the NAC, Heather and I raced towards Quebec City, occasionally hitting speeds of up to 100mph, such was my excitement to begin our little frosty vacation. To make the drive itself unique, the moon rose in complete eclipse. As we drove we watched the moon appear through the intermittent cloud cover, first as a mere sliver and then ultimately as a full moon.

In record time we made it to Quebec City. Slightly lost we made for the Old Town in search of our hotel, the Delta Quebec, and we drove into (figuratively) a huge mob of happy looking Quebecers. I mean throngs of people absolutely filled the streets we were attempting to meander through, making for a very slow and interesting journey. At least asking directions was easy enough! I asked what was going on and was told it was Red Bull Crashed Ice. “What’s Red Bull Crashed Ice?†I asked. “If you don’t know, you don’t know.†The guy could have merely stated that Red Bull Crashed Ice was an insane if not suicidal ice skating race down what is essentially a ten-foot wide bobsled track that careens through the streets of Quebec’s Old Town at a dizzying angle. We had missed the races, but seeing the track that evening and the next day made it seem unbelievable that anyone could maneuver it safely; there were steps built into it and crazy turns and wow…I wouldn’t mind seeing that next year! Anywho, we found our hotel in pretty short order, checked in and had a drink in our room before setting out.

An aside: We had booked the room on priceline.com for a good price, $86, but we seemed to get a fairly crappy room. Well, the room itself was okay, though there was no fridge, but it was a mile from the elevator and had a less than spectacular view. Not to complain about the view, which was fairly decent and overlooked their parliament buildings, but given the location of the hotel right outside of the Old Town’s wall and in spitting distance of the Plains Of Abraham you woulda thought the view would be spectacular. We both speculated that the cheaper booking led to a lesser room.

Had some yummy drinks and left the hotel for a little exploration of the area. Three minutes outside of our hotel we passed though the wall and entered Old Town. Easily betraying it’s European roots street after street is lined with centuries-old buildings, many with plaques detailing the establishment’s history. The area is well preserved and is still lived in and worked in, and though it does have a strong tourism-geared faction it never crosses into Disney-style reach-for-the-authentic fallacy. In a nutshell, it’s gorgeous, and we walked hand-in-hand through the streets catching huge snowflakes on our tongues.

The snow fell like you always picture the snow should fall when you’re holding hands with a pretty girl, but it really got all dreamy-like when we neared the Chateau Frontenac and watched the snow fall through the huge spotlights left over from the Crashed Ice party. The castle (or hotel, or chateau) is a beautiful sight, made even more so under the circumstances; we wandered and marveled. Our tummies forced us to find a pub so find a pub we did. The view was great and the atmosphere was nice, the beer was tasty but the food sucked. Luckily we were both starved enough to enjoy our meals anyway, and sated we visited the statue outside the pub afterwards for a bowl before wandering back towards the hotel. We detoured for another bowl and watched the full moon loll in the sky above a pretty little church. Then we climbed up on the wall that surrounds Old Town, braving treacherous snow and hardship, and me in my dress shoes! We checked out a ton of statues, including one of Ghandi, and just generally had a great night. After a nightcap in the room it was off to sleep.

We got up early and headed out to see more of Old Quebec first thing in the morning. Again through the gates, we wandered aimlessly along the crazy Crashed Ice downhill skating track and passed tons of shops and followed the wall up one side of the city that is still lined with cannons pointing to the water. We found a great breakfast place that more than made up for the pub’s shortcomings and rode a funicular up the hill for a visit to the Chateau Frontenac. Along the water stretches the Governors Walkway, and we followed that as it wound around the citadel, watching canoeists as they braved the ice flows through the current of the St. Lawrence River below. The pathway ends at the Plains Of Abraham, and we walked though the snow-covered park, crossed again the lawn of the parliament building and entered our hotel. Resting our weary bones for a drink in the lobby bar was necessary after so many hours of walking, and it wasn’t until about 4:30 that we headed out of Quebec City, ouest on route 40, stopping for liquor and fast food along the way.

We drove through yet another phatty snowfall – it seemed (and would continue to until we arrived home in Ottawa) as if every few hours someone was picking us up in one of those souvenir balls and shaking it so it would snow. Before long though, we found ourselves at the Ice Hotel.

One of two such enterprises in the world (the other one is in Sweden), the Ice Hotel is exactly what it sounds like; it’s a hotel made entirely of ice and snow. Obviously seasonal, the Ice Hotel boasts thirty-six rooms and suites, a lounge and a nightclub, a wedding chapel and more, and all at below freezing temperatures. It is built on a flat area slightly away from a series of cabin resorts and chalets. We checked in at one building and were directed to another building where we would find our locker and receive our orientation demonstration.

On paper this place sounds like the worst hotel in the world. You keep all of your luggage in a wooden cupboard in the basement of a small cottage-type building next to the shared bathrooms and showers (there will be no plumbing in your room). You aren’t allowed to check in to your room until 9pm, and it’s below freezing in there too. In fact you’ll be sleeping on a block of ice. There’s no door to your room, only a curtain. Basic rooms start at $500 a night (we paid less than half that thanks to our good friend ‘the internet’) and the first of three wake-up visits is at 8am; you must be out of your room by 8:45.

And we loved it.

Entering the front door we found ourselves in a foyer of ice benches and ice chairs covered with animal pelts, an ice desk and ice vases, a fake ice fireplace and art painted on ice on the walls of snow. A beautiful frozen chandelier hung above ice sculptures of Neptune and Atlas, and a stunning wall of pillared women separated the hall from the nightclub. We toured the suites, each of which was unique and had a theme. Highlights were the chess theme with knights and a king and queen as bedposts, and pawns and bishops about the room, the room where the bed was encased in an opaque ice igloo, and the Yeti suite, which artfully carved a bed and tables from the space in such a way as to suggest a naturally frozen cave of ice. We visited the chapel and the lounge and opted to have our first (complimentary) drink in the nightclub. Vodkas of course, with cranberry juice, served in hollowed cubes of ice. We took a booth and sipped our glasses until they had formed to our lips. For refills we both opted for delicious maple whiskey, on the rocks. It was nearing 8:30 so we took our frozen glasses to our room for future use and went for dinner.

Dinner was in another lodge altogether, just up the hill from where we had checked in. It’s in a nice hotel and it’s a damn fine restaurant. The waiter was good, the menu looked great and the prices weren’t off the chart. We weren’t that hungry so Heather got the onion soup and a salad while I hummed and hawed over the bison tartar before opting for a cheeseburger instead. When I tried her soup I declared it possibly the best French onion soup ever and when she tried my burger she said it tasted like sirloin steak had just been freshly ground for the patty. Too full for dessert we went back to the Ice Hotel and checked in to our room where we found a couple of furs and two arctic sleeping bags sitting on our ice bed, which was lit up from inside. A lit candle sat upon the only other accoutrement in our room; a small glass-like ice table jutting from the wall. Heather got busy making martinis and before long we were in one of the two eight-person hot tubs that were in the courtyard alongside changerooms/bathrooms and a sauna.

The moon was almost full overhead and the water was glorious. The ball got shook again and huge fat snowflakes fell all around us. We tried a bit of sauna but Heather outlasted me. I went back to the hot tub and she bounced between the sauna and jumping in the snow bank. Many hours and drinks went by…our martinis were the envy of all, and at who-knows-when in the morning we found ourselves alone and quite loaded in the bar. I noticed for the first time that the bar was an ice sculpture of an octopus destroying a ship, and looking around we realized that the whole bar was designed around an ocean theme. I ran off to get the video camera from our locker in the other building while Heather marveled at the paintings on ice decorating the bar. When I returned we took the camera on a complete tour of the hotel (except the rooms of course) and re-amazed ourselves with the place. Heather even went down the ice slide twice!

Eventually we went back to our room. It struck us how quiet it was. With no heating system or plumbing and the insulating power of snow I think it must be the world’s quietest hotel. We broke the silence with laughter when I almost broke my swimming trunks. After the hot tubbing I had taken off my sopping shorts and held them against the wall for ten seconds until they froze there, hanging dry. Now hours later they were frozen stiff but we didn’t notice until I accidentally knocked the shorts off the wall and they hit the ground with the consistency of an umbrella. I actually leaned them up against the wall for the night. As we knew we were only hours from our wake up call we unfolded our sleeping bags and crawled in. Heather went in pretty much fully dressed while I opted for my boxers, t-shirt and the robe that came with the hot tub towel bag. We both slept fairly well; I was warm all night, though Heather said she got a bit cold around 6am. Immediately after the wake up visit I grabbed my frozen shorts and hit the hot tub again. I’m amazed I was the only person having a hot tub after a night in a frozen hotel room, but who’s to figure people?

Got dressed and Heather and I went to the lodge for our complimentary buffet breakfast, and it was the best buffet breakfast I’ve ever had. Sausage, bacon, beans, scrambled eggs, mini tortieres, home fries, fruit, toast, coffee, juice, and I went back for seconds. Stuffed to the gills we bid farewell to the ice hotel and hit the road. Heather slept the whole way back and we make record time once again.

What a fantastic weekend. Highly recommended.

[Ms.Huxtable]

Thanks for sharing Todd. That sounds like it was a great time.

I hate winter or I might try it myself.

[Northern Wish]

Awesome idea......... I wish I had the kind of girlfriend to do this. She would kill me if I even mentioned this!

When I first read the title, I wondered if Crocs were moving into French Canada.

S

[phorbesie]

Link to pics

[SmoothedShredder]

Nice! Quebec City is a fantastic place. Your so right about the food... very reasonably priced, and great attention to detail! I had a dijon gravy on a $15 steak there that was to die for... and I've never had anything like it before or since.

[edger]

Sounds like a great way to spend a weekend! You've sold me. That's definitely a part of our country that I have yet to explore in any length...

[paisley]

love Quebec City a lot... in my mind is a perfect role model for Canadian cities... more European, less American