Monthly Archives: September 2013
Following the Chisholm trail across Oklahoma
It was a billboard, maybe a bit of extravagant advertising, but it worked. We had just left Enid, OK., the self-proclaimed “Wheat Capital of the Oklahoma,” “Purple Martin Capital of Oklahoma” and says the Chamber of Commerce, the most grain storage capacity in the United States. We are heading for Wichita Falls, TX., our camping site for the evening and had driven about 15 miles south of Enid when the other half of this traveling duo spotted the billboard.
It was mid-morning but like a beacon in the dark, “Oklahoma’s Largest Quilt Shop” was ahead a few miles, it read, in Hennessey. The hook was sunk deep. “Pull over,’ she said.
Since its neighbor Enid already claims the wheat capital title, nearby Hennessey, population just past 2,000, was left with “The Buckle on the Wheat Belt.” And, since Enid had two self- proclaimed state titles, little Hennessey, obviously wanting to keep pace with its neighbors to the north, has equaled the bragging rights with the state’s “biggest quilt shop” title. Take that, Enid.
Like many small towns in Oklahoma, Hennessey was laid-out by locals in the late 1880’s after Oklahoma’s rush for free land and knew the importance of a wide downtown thoroughfare. This is just a guess on my part, but many years ago Hennessey probably allowed parking on both sides of main street as well as parking in the center of the street. It’s because on Saturday, when country came to town, Main Street was the center of recreational and economic activity and parking was a premium.
My usual answer to this “pull over” at the quilt shop request is “good luck finding a parking spot.”
Trying to find ample space for a 40-foot RV and a tow car behind, is usually my escape as I drive on. Not in Hennessey. There in downtown, right in front of the “Prairie Quilt Shop” was a block of empty parking spaces on Hennessey’s ultra wide thoroughfare. I pulled over just in time to get out of the way of a truck hauling a load of bawling cattle to market and strolled main street, all three blocks, while Martha shopped the two floors of quilt stuff. I assumed most of the town’s foot traffic was in the quilt shop because I didn’t meet a single person while walking up one side and down the other of main street. The town’s donut shop was already closed at 10 a.m., probably on the assumption that its customers were early rising folks.
With only two bags of “stuff,” Martha returned to the RV and we continued heading south on U. S. 81, stopping in Kingfisher for a cup of coffee and refueling.
Like most small towns, Kingfisher has its own story to tell and can usually be uncovered if one walks far enough on main street.
And, within a couple blocks, I found it. A nice bronze statue of Jessie Chisholm, the namesake of the famed Chisholm trail, the route Texas ranchers followed through Oklahoma to move cattle to the railroad in Kansas, commands a special place on Kingfisher’s main street.
Chisholm was a half-blood Cherokee Indian who moved to Oklahoma in the 1820’s and later in life, established a series of trading posts and soon gained a reputation as a trader and friend of several different tribes of Great Plains Indians. He served as an interpreter and guide through Indian Country, moved to Wichita and later opened a new route south to present day Oklahoma City. Known as the Chisholm Trail, it later connected Texas ranches with markets to the railroad in Kansas. Although Chisholm never drove cattle along the route, it still bears his name. And, U. S. Highway 81 out of Texas, across Oklahoma and into Kansas, still follows the old Chisholm Trail.
I’ll bet old timers in Kingfisher could confirm that more than a hundred years ago, cattle were likely through the middle of town following the Chisholm Trail north.
All of these small Oklahoma towns have at least one skyscraper—the grain elevator—built to accommodate the region’s wheat growers. The grain elevator is always the largest building in town and is visible miles from town. Enid’s huge and numerous grain elevators boast the third largest storage capacity in the world.
Driving south, we passed through tiny Okarche, OK., where their skyscrapers are dozens of wind turbines, taking advantage of the Oklahoma flat and rolling countryside to harness the continuously blowing winds to produce electricity.
Just west of El Reno, homes and ranches still show evidence of tornado damage from last year’s devastating tornadoes that struck Oklahoma. Parts of some homes visible from the highway were blown away, others were missing roofs. The May 31, 2012 storm was the widest tornado in recorded history but fortunately touched down in largely open terrain and did little property damage. zIt was designated an F5 category storm with winds in excess of 296 mph within the tornado.It grew to a record breaking 2.6 miles wide before changing directions and dissipating. The storm claimed eight lives.
We continued south on U. S,. 8, through the Apache, Kiowa and Comanche reservation, its entrance marked by a small roadside sign, but their newly opened casino and its flashing sign can be seen for miles in this flat Great Plains country.
Outside Lawton, where a good Georgia friend once stationed at Fort Sill, brought his family here years ago on a successful trip to capture an Oklahoma brown tarantula, a huge spider that can grow to a four inch leg span. It also makes its home in several other lower Midwestern states.
The Wichita Mountains suddenly appear north of Lawton, a moderately large range that appears bigger because of its flat plains surroundings.
Continuing south and closer to the Texas border is the small town of Fredrick, OK., where during the early 1960’s the Air Force built one of a series of 12 silos in this region to house Atlas ICBM Missiles during the Cold War with Russia. The missiles were decommissioned and the silos were later sold. One of my brothers, an Air Force veteran, worked on this site with a private government contractor.
Near Lawton at the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, the only herd of the original stock of Texas Longhorn cattle and a herd of buffalo have free range grazing rights throughout the 58,000 acre preserve.
After a long day on the road we crossed the once mighty Red River, the often divisive border between Oklahoma and Texas. The river has been reduced to about a fourth its original size because of an extended drought that lingers in this part of the country.
At the campground in nearby Wichita Falls, the check-in attendant said “don’t even think of using a water hose to wash bugs off the front of your RV.” He said the county is under serious water restrictions in an effort to conserve water. “Get yourself a bucket,” he added.
NEXT: Sing along now: “Let’s go to Luckenbach, Texas….”
Going underground for the day in Tennessee, visiting in Oklahoma
One hundred fifty feet underground in the Craighead Cavern near Sweetwater, TN.
A school of trout in the four acre lake swims alongside the glass bottom boat.
We’re in Knoxville, TN., visiting family and spending a couple days touring the area including a working dairy farm and a huge cavern that boasts a huge underground lake.
The Lost Sea Adventure starts with a guided three-quarter mile walk, almost in the dark, along a cavern that’s about 150 feet below the surface. During the walk guides talked about the cavern’s history, that included stories of Native Americans, Civil War soldiers and bones from a prehistoric jaguar, which also left its tracks. The Cherokees used the cavern as a meeting place and soldiers mined salt peter for gun powder during the war between the states.
An interesting part of the cavern was a story about a 13-year-old boy who was unable to convince family and friends that he located the lake in 1905, long before it was officially found.
After walking the downward leading trail, the cavern opened into a huge room and the world’s second largest underground lake. We boarded a boat powered by an electric trolling motor and rode around the lake, which is also home to a school of lake trout. The fish were stocked in the lake and are fed daily.
On a day when temperatures were approaching 90 degrees above ground, it was jacket weather in the cavern with a constant 59 degree year-round temperature.
The Lost Sea Adventure in the Craighead Caverns, is located near Sweetwater, TN.
Below the Kentucky Dam at the Land Between the Lakes recreation area near Paducah, KY.
A fisherman catching bait below the Kentucky Dam.
Also located in the Sweetwater area is the Sweetwater Valley Farm is primarily a dairy farm that has developed a very popular cheese business. Tours of the dairy farm are available, giving visitors the opportunity to watch the milking process and learn how they convert milk to cheese. We bought a half dozen small bricks of cheese, all in different varieties.
We drove deeper into Cherokee country to Tellico Plains and drove on the Cherohala Skyway to the Bald River Falls. This 100 foot waterfall is located near the highway and can be viewed and photographed from the highway.
From Knoxville, we drove the RV west on I-40, en route to our next destination, near Tulsa, OK. Passing through Nashville and heading north to Paducah, KY., we recalled driving through here three years ago just days after a tragic flood hit the country music capital.
In Paducah, Martha toured the National Quilt Museum, which featured quilts made during the Civil War and a display of Japanese made quilts. We drove back into downtown later in the day and revisited the flood wall murals and drove along the banks of the Ohio River before having dinner. The following day we visited for the first time the Land Between the Lakes park, about 20 miles west of Paducah. This recreation area was created by building dams over the Ohio and Tennessee Rivers. We checked out a couple campgrounds along the waterfront in hopes of returning some day.
The Bald River Falls along the Cherohala Skyway south of Knoxville, TN.
A working oil field pumping unit on the grounds of a campground in Enid, OK.
The Will Rogers Birthplace near Oologah, OK.
After Paducah, we headed northwest with plans to cross the Mississippi near Wicklifte but found the bridge was closed to big trucks and RV traffic. A couple weeks later, we read in a newspaper account where the bridge was blown up in preparation for the construction of a new bridge across the river to Cairo, Ill. We drove almost 80 miles out of our way and had to backtrack along northern Tennessee to join I-40 west of Memphis and head to Little Rock where we camped about 10 miles west of the city, en route to Oologah and Enid OK., to visit more family.
In Oologah, birthplace of Will Rogers, one of Oklahoma’s favorite sons, we parked the RV at the Rogers family home on picturesque Lake Oologah.
A couple of humming birds sparring around a feeder in Oologah, OK>
Later in Enid, which is located west of Tulsa, we were surprised that our campground had a working oil pumping unit within the facility.
NEXT: Heading for the Texas Hill Country
It’s fun, this life on the road
A field of wildflowers near Glacier National Park, St. Mary, Montana
Phase two, or better yet, Leg Two, we’re calling it, of the Music Festival Road Trip is underway.
It’s not that both of us are music junkies, we just enjoy the lifestyle. From the camping (if one can call over-nighting in a 40 foot RV, packed with all the necessities of home, camping) to music and of course the food along the way. Think smoked meat and crepes in French Quebec, Canada, just one of the many memories from Leg One of this trip.
Leg Two of the music journey will culminate in Austin, Texas, with more good music, maybe the best beef BBQ in the world (the south surely has the best pork butt) and making new friends along the journey. Camping is like that. The majority of us are on our best behavior, volunteering and receiving travel tidbits from camping neighbors. Like the couple we met early on the trip who lost their home in Oklahoma to a wild fire and decided to take the insurance money and buy a new motorhome and hit the road. It must have been a nice house, because they were camping in a spanking new 43 -foot Winnebago. Think many, many dollars. We related our experiences of driving a motorhome across the border into Canada and back and he talked about a couple places down the road that we should visit.
We enjoy the outdoors cooking, albeit hot, sometimes in dusty dirt road campgrounds and eating on a wobbly picnic table that sometimes harbor spiders, flies and ants. But there are other times when we are parked facing the water (think Lake Ontario just two months ago), sleeping peacefully with the windows open and the only noise is a small mouth bass breaking the water about 20 feet away. Or in Glacier National Park, St. Mary, Montana, where the Green Knight sits facing snow-capped mountain peaks that are really breathtaking. No sirens, noisy trucks or roosters crowing. The good food is hard to beat, too, especially when recalling a thick, juicy steak at Kevin Costner’s fancy restaurant in Deadwood, S. D. And the good friends we make along the road, like Don and Sue in Ottawa, Canada, new friends we hope will be friends from now on.
I like playing the role of the 60’s teevee fictional character Ralph Kramden (yes, it is spelled with a “K”…look it up), played by chubby Jackie Gleason, who herded a city bus through the streets of New York. Our seven-year old Monaco Knight, dubbed the Green Knight early in our travels, is nearly as big as a bus and if I keep eating my way across the country, I’m going to be as big as Ralph Kramden. We have been traveling the country for about six months out of the year for the past three and have adapted very well to this RV living. One of us would rather be a full-timer on the road than at home in the sunshine state but we both miss our family and my traveling partner misses her home after a couple months.
There’s enjoyment in waking up every few days in a new town.
After our first day on the road, we woke up in Elko, Ga., a burp of a town on I-75 about 275 miles north of home, where, the night before, I worked an hour in 90 degree heat to scrub lovebugs off the front of the Green Knight that greeted us at the Florida-Georgia border.
We skirted the dreaded Atlanta traffic and took a west Georgia route through small towns such as Griffin, then north to Newnan and Carrollton with plans to camp overnight near Cartersville at Red Top Mountain State Park. Unfortunately, our RV would not fit in their campsites so we headed a few miles north of Atlanta on I-75 and camped just outside Cartersville, far enough from the highway in a quiet and somewhat peaceful campground.
Knoxville, Tn., our destination tomorrow, is only 150 miles away on I-75. We will leave the RV at Buddy Greg RV dealership for scheduled RV maintenance while we spend three days visiting family here.
NEXT: Cooling off in 150 feet deep caverns and sailing the Lost Sea.
Returning to Natural Bridge 35 years later
We are in the final stretch of the Music Festival Road Trip and heading home to Florida.
From Lake George, NY., we will drive south to Lickdale, Pa., which is near Harrisburg and Amish Country, following routes I-88, I-90 and finally I-81. After only one night in Lickdale, we continued southward to Natural Bridge, Va., a distance of about 270 miles, which is about our normal daily mileage.
The following day we returned to see the Natural Bridge, a place we had visited about 35-years-ago, and stayed two nights at a campground at the end of a narrow two-lane road. We parked the Green Knight on a hill top site with a nice view overlooking the campground and met our neighbor who was from Ottawa, Canada and worked at Parliament Hill. We had toured that complex three weeks ago.
We returned to Natural Bridge in Natural Bridge, Va., after our first visit 35 years ago
Television crews follow one of the competitors in the Virginia State Barbeque Championship at Galax, Va.
It’s hot, again, and mosquitoes attacked often as we were taking the dog on a walk around the park. They were so plentiful they managed to drive us inside the air conditioned RV for cooking and eating dinner.
We visited historic Lexington, Va., which is only a few miles from the campground, and were reminded that Washington and Lee University and Virginia Military Institute (VMI) are both located here. They are located prominently in the downtown area. Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson are buried here and Sam Houston was born here. The town is full of civil war history.
After two days in Natural Bridge, Va., we headed south on I-81 and I-77 to Galax, Va. , and Cool Breeze Campground, our last destination on this Music Festival Road Trip.
We were here about six weeks ago. It’s on the way home and also one of our favorite campgrounds and places to visit.
Located on the edge of the Blue Ridge Parkway, we open the windows at night and enjoy the cool mountain air and once again walk the New River Trail. We bought fresh vegetables from a local farmer near Fancy Gap and since it was Friday night, attended the weekly bluegrass music show at the historic Rex Theater.
On Saturday morning, we drove into downtown Galax which was hosting the Virginia State Barbeque Championship and enjoyed a very good pulled pork lunch at Galax Smokehouse, a past winner of this event. The winner from this contest goes to the 2014 Memphis in May World Championships.
A butterfly blends somewhat with its background in a controlled habitat at Natural Bridge.
The Galax visit was topped off with another bluegrass concert Saturday evening at the Blue Ridge Music Center and listed two bluegrass bands.
After one more night on the road in Columbia, S. C., we arrived home in St. Augustine to the usual 90 degrees, 90 percent humidity Florida weather and a yard full of weeds. We have been on the road for almost two months.
Part two of the Music Festival Road Trip will include the Austin Music Festival and begins shortly.
Leaving Canada and heading home
After three weeks in northeast Canada, we are packing up and leaving the country today, taking with us lots of memories—all of them favorable first time experiences. What am I saying—there’s nothing to pack in an RV—everything is already packed and tucked away. We don’t even have a suitcase on board.
Sagamore Hotel is a popular destination on Lake George.
Unfortunately, we’re also saying goodbye to our good friends Don and Sue who so unselfishly gave us about 10 days of guided tours around and through Kemptville, Ottawa and Quebec City. They made sure we didn’t miss a thing during our visit, whether it was seeing the sights or experiencing the culture of a new country. When it was necessary, perhaps in a French restaurant, they also served as our translators managing to sneak in a few things like poutine and smoked meat sandwiches. Oh the laughs we shared–laughs that will stay with us until seeing them again in Florida when we all return to the sunshine state to enjoy the hopefully warm winter.
From Quebec City, we drove Highway 20 west to Montreal then went south on Highway 15 and crossed the border at Champlain, New York. We have entered and exited Canada at least a half dozen times and this one was without difficulty. Although all papers were in order, agricultural agents on the U. S. side are always careful to make sure we are not carrying prohibited produce into the states. Once, at International Falls, they confiscated half a lime. This time they took a half dozen tomatoes.
Once across the border, we headed south on I-87 through the Adirondack Mountains en route to the Lake George region of New York State. The mountains provided an ever changing landscape along with some long, steep grades but nothing that compares to the I-77 ride up or down the mountain at Fancy Gap, Va.
On advice of several new RV friends, we stayed at the Lake George RV Park in Lake George, NY., for two days. We have driven more than 30,000 miles in the RV during the past three years and this has to be the finest campground in America.
The following day we drove around big Lake George, ate lunch on the patio overlooking the lake at the fancy Sagamore Lodge and toured the historic old Victorian style hotel—all of which are on an island near Bolton Landing.
Found a well-stocked farmers market on Saturday morning in Glen Falls and stocked up on a bunch of locally grown produce. This market also had a vendor who brought fresh whole dairy products, including whole milk in returnable glass gallon jugs. Locals were lined up returning last week’s empty jugs and swapping for fresh milk. Another vendor provided knife sharpening.
Like tourists are supposed to, we posed for pictures at nearby Glen Falls then returned to the campground and walked a couple miles along the shaded paths at Lake George RV Park.
Martha fixed the fresh green beans we bought at the farmers market and I grilled walleye and we once again enjoyed dinner at an outside picnic table and opened a bottle of wine as the sun started to fall below the trees. Life sure is good.
Time is standing still on the Isle of Orleans
It’s going to be another day of driving around this beautiful part of Quebec, Canada, to a place called Isle of Orleans where time seems to be stuck in a period several hundred years ago.
As the locals are quick to point out, this small island played a very important role in Canada’s history. It is where the British gathered their forces then boarded boats for the short trip across the St. Lawrence River, sneaked into Quebec City and defeated the French on the Plains of Abraham, just outside the walled city. Don’t be confused by the name. It may sound like a religious battle but it refers to the location of the 1759 battle which was fought in a pasture of a farmer named Abraham Martin.
The Isle of Orleans was among the first areas settled here by the French and, like Quebec City, many descendants of those original settlers still reside here. French is commonly spoken here as well.
Our friends Don and Sue, who live near Ottawa, Ontario, are driving us the length of the island (47 miles in circumference), where the French settled here first because of its fertile soil. Agriculture today is as important to the island as it was when French Explorer Jacques Cartier first landed here in 1535.
It is interesting to note that land colonized in the mid 1600’s in small narrow but long sections is still evident today.
The Isle of Orleans reminded us of pastoral settings in the Canadian Maritime Provinces of Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, of many small farms with centuries old but well maintained farmhouses that resemble a specific time period in addition to immaculately groomed yards and rows and rows of colorful flowers.
Although many crops are grown here, it has become nationally known for its strawberries, apples, potatoes and wineries. Sugar maple, which is popular throughout this section of Canada, can be purchased from roadside stands during the season as well as fruit and vegetable stands.
We stopped for lunch in a small restaurant that was once a mill house, complete with the original water wheel and a small creek. We sat outside and had lunch under an umbrella alongside the creek.
St. Anne’s Basilica is impressive in size, design
The interior of St. Anne’s Cathedral.
Visiting old historic cathedrals is becoming a travel habit for the Hughes.’ On a trip to Europe, friends said they visited so many cathedrals on a tour of Italy, that they renamed it the “ABC” tour or “another blasted cathedral.” We are just the opposite and will drive out-of-the way to visit another one.
In fact, we have visited so many cathedrals that our friend Don wrongly believed we were catholic.
Today he’s driving us 20 miles north of Quebec City to see the huge Basilique Sainte-Anne de-Beaupre. Wikipedia says “St. Anne is believed, by the pious, to perform miracles. People from all around the world come to visit the basilica. One of the church’s builders had crutches; when he finished his work on the church, however, he is said to have been able to walk freely. Pillars in the front entrance are covered in crutches from people who are said by the parishioners to have been miraculously cured and saved.
The church is built on a site that once housed a 1658 shrine that honored St. Anne. It became a basilica in 1876.
From Martha’s travel journal: “The church has thousands of beautiful hand crafted mosaics everywhere–on the floor, on the walls– and formed into many different patterns. My what an impressive sight–inside and out.”
She took pictures of the mosaics after friend Sue suggested the patterns would make a very unique quilt.
The building, which was built and paid for by donations from around the world, has been enlarged several times during the years and now commands a massive appearance in this small community. It is impressive in design and size.
Sorry, no grits in French Quebec, just crepes
Eggs and bacon wrapped with a soft crepe and topped off with syrup was different and delicious, even for a couple of grits eating southerners. Our good friends Don and Sue have brought us to this nice restaurant alongside the luxurious old Fairmont Hotel, described by Don as his favorite breakfast place in Old Quebec.
Look close because the images on the side of this building in Old Quebec is a mural that depicts real life in this building during a particular time period.
It’s a very comfortable cool but breezy morning on the hill overlooking the St. Lawrence River and within walking distance of the old city. Downtown Quebec is busy with a huge musical festival underway that’s expected to draw 1.5 million visitors and billed as Canada’s largest outdoor music event. Most of the shows, however, are at night and leaving the streets easy to navigate afoot during the day.
Visitors enjoy an impromptu dance to tunes provided by a street performer in Old Quebec.
With Don and Sue pointing out the historic parts of the city and eating a leisure lunch at an outdoor restaurant, we toured a downtown cathedral, the Fairmont Hotel and window shopped some of the nicer retail stores for a couple hours before returning to the campground.
We boarded the Levi ferry once again for another nighttime view of the city and dinner at an authentic French restaurant outside the tourist district. We enjoyed a poutine appetizer and meals of fresh Canadian walleye.
Later in the evening we gathered on the waterfront with a huge crowd of people for a movie performance that was projected on the walls of a huge grain storage building. The building had to be more than a block long, every bit of which was utilized to display the movie, parts of which were animated. The movie depicted the life of a Canadian film and animation artist.
Thankfully, we were wearing jackets and sweaters because of the cool damp night air. The warm clothes were also appreciated on the ride home across the St. Lawrence River Levi Ferry.
Walking the streets in Old Quebec, Canada.
Although it was said previously, it’s worth repeating:
the view of Quebec City at night from the St. Lawrence River, is a real “wow” experience.
Old Quebec City at night aboard the ferry is “wow” moment
Historic cobblestone street in Old Quebec after closing time.
We’re packing- up this morning and heading for Quebec City, which is only about a three hour drive in the RV. The 12 days spent exploring and experiencing the history, culture, food and music of Montreal has been a fun and educational experience.
Packing-up to move from one spot to another in an RV is not much of an effort. Disconnect the electrical, water and sewage lifelines from the campground, withdraw the slide extensions, and anchor objects such as the coffee pot which are capable of becoming missiles in the event of a sudden roadway stop. We hurriedly check through the two page departure list,which is laminated and kept behind the drivers seat for quick access. The list is a reminder to make sure the teevee antennae is down, the awnings are closed, electric step is withdrawn, etc. Yes, we have left campgrounds with the door step extended and wondered how we made it through some tight places without ripping it from the RV. Also have left with the television antennae sticking up like a beacon but were thankfully flagged-down before leaving the campground. Hit a pothole and jarred open one of the doors to the underneath storage bins, only to be alerted by a frantically waving passing motorist. Thankfully, have not driven away with the sewer line still attached.
Window shopping in Old Quebec.
Usually these missives occur after staying in one spot for a week or two. which has been the case here in Montreal. I fired up the diesel and take a last minute walk around the RV as the air suspension and brakes build up pressure. A few miles outside town we find a roadside vegetable stand and stocked up on some locally grown tomatoes, corn and green beans.
The trip to Quebec City is uneventful, thank goodness. We are staying at a campground on the west side of the St. Lawrence River.
Our good Canadian friends Don and Sue, who kindly took several days off to show us around Ottawa, the Canadian capital, have volunteered once again to be our tour guides around Quebec. They lived here in the 90’s when Sue was attending college here to get her masters degree.
We cooked a steak dinner with our friends and just before dark, drove into the hilly, waterfront town of Levi and boarded a ferry across the St. Lawrence River as the sun was setting. “This is one of the city’s best kept secrets,” friend Don told us “because of this spectacular view.” The view of Old Quebec at night, anchored on top of a hill by the grand old Fairmont La Chateau Frontenac hotel, one of the Canadian Pacific Railway luxury hotels built across Canada in the late 1800’s, was absolutely stunning.
The wall around Quebec City is the oldest fortified city wall in North America.
The fortifications were designated a National Historic Site of Canada in 1948.
Walking the cobblestone downtown streets of Old Quebec at night was remind-full of small waterfront towns in France with lots of small shops, busy restaurants with street-side seating, and most of all, gelato stores that stay open at night offering an abundance of exotic flavors.
We walked back to the waterfront, boarded the ferry for the campground and listened as Don talked about our itinerary for tomorrow, starting with crepes for breakfast at one of his favorite downtown eateries. We are, after all, in French speaking Canada where eating crepes for breakfast is the norm, even for grits
Most restaurants in Quebec City offer street-side seating during summer months.
Taking a walk along the boardwalk in Quebec City near the Fairmont Hotel.