As Close as it Gets

Over the years we have heard our children  begging for us to take them outside of the United States. A couple of years ago, when we traveled to Niagara Falls, we temporarily satisfied them by riding on the Maid of the Mist boat tour around the base of the falls. We pointed out that as the boat turned around, it briefly swept into Canada's territory. They were content for a period of time until one of them started questioning whether they could really count that as travel abroad. Last weekend we put to rest any doubts regarding the legitimacy of their foreign travel.

I had been eyeing the New France Festival in Quebec City for quite some time, so when the right weekend rolled around, we packed our bags, slipped in our passports and birth certificates and headed North. Our first stop was Montmorency Falls, a 27 story drop into the Saint Laurence River with a thin suspension bridge dangling just above the drop off. With this excursion recommended for children, we just had to stop.    

We then continued into Quebec City  and spent the evening roaming around Old Quebec. Quebec was the first city in North America to be founded by the French. The French arrived in 1535 but Quebec City wasn't founded until 1608. This French presence still thrives throughout the province of Quebec through language and customs, but is most evident in the old city of Quebec. Simply walking through the towering ramparts of the city transports you across the Atlantic placing you in the centuries old villages of the French countryside. 

It was fun to roam through the cobblestone streets with my children who were in awe of the French language drifting from the cafes, the architecture from centuries past towering above them and crepe and French pastry shops placed on each corner simply for their enjoyment. 

We ended the night in the shadow of the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac, Quebec City's most celebrated landmark. This grand structure was originally the home of the governor of New France but is now a luxurious hotel. The kids discussed with excitement the advantages of living in such a palace. Imagine a game of hide and go seek, they exclaimed, which room would be their bedroom they dreamed, but then were brought back to reality by wondering how many of our houses would fit into this massive residence. 

As the sun went down, we watched the street performers and then headed to our hotel. 

The next morning we woke up early, grabbed French pastries and made our way to see the changing of the guards at La Citadelle, which is the largest fortified base in North America still occupied by troops. It serves as a base for the Royal 22e Regiment. In 1759 the British took over Quebec. Clearly England's culture can also still be found in this charming city. 

As soon as the guards were in order, we climbed down the winding streets and staircases to the lower town for the Fetes de la Nouvelle France (New France Festival). Since all of the activities were in French, we simply wandered through the streets and soaked in the culture. Steve and I commented that the Quebecois seemed to revel in festive atmosphere, with many festival goers dressing up for the occasion. They were loud and celebratory, clearly loving life. They seemed quite different than their New England neighbors to the south, who are much more reserved. At our festivals we appear in golf shirts and Red Sox baseball caps, sipping drinks and clustering in small groups. 

We took a boat ride on the Saint Laurence River which provided stunning views of the city.

 

In the afternoon we took the funiculaire, an elevator that lifted us up the rock cliffs back to the upper town for more street performers and lunch at a small cafe. Steve and I indulged ouselves on crepes stuffed with ham, asapargus, mushrooms and swiss followed by dessert crepes filled with berries, ice cream, chocolate and creme which we shared with the children who had opted for egg and bacon crepes as a main course. 

Our time in Quebec was far too short, but our next leg of our weekend journey made our departure bearable. We drove down to Montreal and arrived at our hotel in time for nothing more than showers and bedtime stories. The next morning we awoke and spent the morning at church, which we hoped would be in French but was not, and then headed over to Vieux-Montreal. This Old City had cobblestone streets, flower basket windows, and at least one great crepe restaurant at which we lunched. 

We then wandered through a street fair, complete with a French mime.

 

With little time left, it was off to the Basilique Notre-Dame-de-Montreal. This awe inspiring cathedral was listed first under main attractions in this area of Canada. One of my favorite moments during the weekend was entering the cavernous nave of the cathedral with Emilie and Jonathan. The imposing size and splendor of this room took Emilie and Jonathan by surprise. Upon entering, they both literally gasped at it's beauty. I am sure if we had been in Europe touring one cathedral after another, this building would be commonplace, but as this was thier first experiece in a cathedral, I truly enjoyed experiencing its magnificence with them. 

As we exited the basillica, raindrops began to fall from the clouds that had been threateining us all weekend. We knew it was time to go home. We made our journey from New France back to New England. Finally our children had officially been on foreign soil. Being unprepared in everyway to pack up our six children and cross the Atlantic, or any other ocean, for us, Canada is as close as it gets. How lucky we are for our Northern neighbor!         

The Vineyard

On Sunday a friend at church was amused when she asked Sophia what we had been doing over the weekend. Her reply was, "I have no idea. I never know what goes on around here!" Where Sophia gets her personality will continue to be debated, but in the mean time, for Sophia, I will recap our weekend on Martha's Vineyard. 

Saturday morning we strapped our bikes to the back of our car, packed our bags full of towels and sunblock and set the GPS to the ferry terminal in Woods Hole. (Sophia, have you forgotten that notorious Cape traffic we were caught in, causing us to miss the first ferry and almost the second an hour and a half later?)

We arrived in Woods Hole and we suddenly felt like immigrants. Travelers were bustling through the ticket office and then up the gang way, laden with bags and roller suit cases, some confident where they were going, while others looking a little confused. As soon as the ferry began it's crossing of Vineyard Sound, it was clear that our journey was worth while. This summer it has been a rare treat to have a dry day, so a beautiful day with clear skies on an Saturday was just about as much as we could ask for,  bringing out sailboats and sea kayakers. We made our way up the coast of the Vineyard, past light houses tucked between property that must belong to oil tycoons and movie stars. (Remember MV's legendary Shenandoah with the black dog flag floating in the harbor in honor of the timeless Black Dog Tavern?) 

At Vineyard Haven Steve and I parted ways, with him taking the older children on a three mile bike ride along the sea to Oak Haven and me taking the three little ones on the bus.  

After we met Steve and the kids, we had a picnic on the town green overlooking Nantucket Sound. The charming Victorian houses reminded us of the island's whaling history, with over twenty-five percent of the world's whalers sailing from Martha's Vineyard during the 19th century. 

We then made our way "up island" to Sylvia Beach. We spent the afternoon diving for shells still perfectly shaped, balancing out into the sea on the jetty, searching for crabs, and finally sneaking in a little tri-athalon training. (Did you forget how fitting it was that you wore your shark goggles at the same beach on which Jaws was filmed?) 

We brushed the sand off our legs and let the sun dry our bathing suits as we walked into town. Our first stop was the Flying Horses Carousel, the oldest merry-go-round in the country. The kids loved the ponies with real horse hair and the challenge of being the last one to catch the brass ring. (How could any of us forget Emilie catching the last brass ring twice in a row? We watched as she rode her two free turns.) 

We then made our way to the Carousel Ice Cream shop for scoops of homemade peppermint, Snickers, and boysenberry ice cream. 

Our last stop of the day was a visit to the cottages, the remnants of the religious campmeeting movement during the 1800's. (Do you remember how we explained that, as a young boy, Joseph Smith attended the same type of religious campmeetings that took place on the island? These gingerbread houses soon took the place of the temporary tents that circled the tabernacle from which the preachers would deliver their sermons.) 

As the sun began to set, Steve and the kids wheeled their bikes to the ferry terminal and I followed behind with two tired children in the stroller and one sleeping baby in the Bjorn. Waiting for our return trip to the Cape, we discussed future plans on the Vineyard, which would include, we hoped, several nights in a beach house.             

A Mother's Request

How could it be that our sweet baby has quietly slept away her newborn days? Tucked in her bassinet, swinging to the soft tunes of a lullaby, or gently being passed from hand to hand, her little legs have grown long. And behind those closed eyes she has learned to smile, coo and connect with our admiring gaze. 

Little Mia you have an entire lifetime to be big and strong. Please let us hold you close a little longer before you move on.     

Proud Sophie and her New Skills

For the past three years, Sophia and her life jacket have splashed in each pool of water, hand in hand, an inseparable pair. "Take the jacket off and swim a little," I would cajole. "No Way!" was her reply. After a full summer and a half of prodding our little fishie out of her floatation device, I simply became accustomed to seeing her bopping around with her jacket zipped up tight. Multiple sessions of swim lessons were in our future, I was sure, with me doling out registration fees and Sophia blowing one bubble after another. But everything changed yesterday when Sophia slipped into the Gorman's pool. Of course she had her trusty life jacket on but suddenly she switched from vertical bopping to horizontal flapping, face in the water and all. "Take off your jacket" we all persuaded. With the life saving device behind her, she took a deep breath, plugged her nose with her little fingers, and shimmied her way across the pool! Our little fishie sprouted fins and away she went from one side of the pool to the other, back and forth, until the rafts and swim toys had been piled up high and the towels were hanging to dry. We pulled proud Sophie out, promised to call the grandmas and of course to bring her back to her favorite swimming pool. 

And as if learning to swim were not enough for one summer, Sophia is now a skilled winker. 

We think it's pretty cute. 

(And so does she!)  

*For another perspective on our life, check out Emilie's blog at www.emiliesadventures.blogspot.com. She is back in publishing mode. (And she LOVES your comments!)