MONTREAL, Canada — The maple leaves had not yet slipped into their colorful fall suits, but the hair of this tourist had turned into a barren, silvery forest.
As our 1949 honeymoon wound down, my wife Dorothy and I vowed we’d return to Montreal and Quebec City. Fifty years later, the wide-eyed newlyweds of yesteryear had become retired, adventurous grandparents. As we embarked on a sentimental journey in 1999, our promise was finally about to be fulfilled.
A similar route through New York state again landed us in Lake George for an overnight stay. This time, though, we had our own car. Didn’t have to borrow my father-in-law’s Buick station wagon.
Could this be the T-shirt capital of America? A walk along Lake George’s main drag, Canada Street, gave that impression. The years had not been kind to what had impressed us five decades ago as a virginal mountain Shangri La.
The drive north on four-lane Route 87 through the Adirondack Mountains was a welcome alternative to the old, two-lane Route 9 zigzagging its way into Montreal.
Instead of settling in for a few days with my wife’s five-star Canadian cousins as we did 50 years earlier, we checked into the four-star Queen Elizabeth Hotel for three nights.
The city, quintessentially French with more than half of its million-plus residents having ancestral ties to France, has traded some of its old world charm for glistening skyscrapers, underground shopping hubs, condominiums and a highly efficient transit system. Most directional signs were now in French.
Gone was the gimmicky steakhouse restaurant built on a tree branch platform that we so enjoyed in those early days. Also, the Miss Montreal restaurant with its signature, crispy Southern fried chicken was no more.
Instead, we feasted at Moishes steakhouse, a pricey baronial-styled eatery now observing its 85th year in business, and Taverne Atlantic, a popular downtown seafood house. Both were very satisfying.
Massive redevelopment in the 1960s and ’70s had obviously paid off. Determined to gain worldwide recognition as a progressive, clean, safe destination, Montreal built to host the Expo 67 international exposition and 1976 Summer Olympics. Population Action International, a Washington, D.C.-based think tank, has singled out the city as a worldwide leader in improving its residents’ quality of life.
Window and comparison shopping in a subterranean mall adjacent to our hotel was a learning experience. Prices appeared no cheaper than those in U.S. department stores despite the promise of a 7% government tax rebate on foreign visitors’ hotel bills and goods.
A Paris-like Bateau Mouche boat ride on the St. Lawrence River offered an updated view of Habitat, Expo 67’s futuristic-looking condominium complex on the Ile Notre Dame. Its 158 prefabricated apartments cost as much as $380,000, the riverboat guide explained.
Quebec City
Quebec City was a smooth two-hour ride away on Highway 20. We had no trouble making our way into the quaint, old walled section and checking into the castle-like Le Chateau Frontenac Hotel.
Our 16th-floor room was a huge, Victorian-style accommodation with patterned green wallpaper and a circular dining area. The room overlooked a St. Lawrence River marina and a Japanese-owned paper plant.
The five-star 618-room hotel sits on a bluff and is within walking distance of most old city attractions. This is where Winston Churchill and Franklin D. Roosevelt secretly met in 1943 to try to hasten the defeat of Germany and Japan during World War II.
Chateau Frontenac was quite an upgrade from the nondescript small pension room this budget-minded couple shared decades ago.
Dining on filet mignon in the hotel’s gourmet Le Champlain room, we couldn’t help recalling as newlyweds how uncomfortable and intimidated we felt then by the restaurant’s prices, posh trappings and formal service. Dorothy doesn’t remember her choice, but I ordered the least expensive lunch entree, a hamburger.
This time, though, we dined at nearby recommended restaurants — Café de la Paix, L’Echaude and Auberge du Tresor — where salmon and lobster prevailed as house specialties and were thoroughly enjoyed.
We melted into crowds of post-Labor Day tourists exploring the cliffside Fortress of Quebec founded in 1608 by French explorer Samuel Champlain.
The center of the lower town, reachable via an incline or enough stamina to mount 100 steps, has more 17th- and 18th-century buildings than anywhere else in North America. Careful maintenance of this area has earned Quebec City the distinction of sharing a place on UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites with Rome, Jerusalem and the pyramids of Egypt.
Beyond the old city walls, modern shopping centers and high-rise buildings cater to the city’s nearly 840,000 residents. Within its walls, time has been encapsulated in a European mold and insulated by three miles of well-preserved walls built by the British during the War of 1812 to ward off an invading American army.
Rather than go for the half-hour carriage ride to view the narrow cobblestone streets as we did on our honeymoon, we took the AAA Tourist Book’s advice and hoofed it. The walk offered snapshot views of the city’s administrative, military, religious and cultural landmarks amid prevailing odors of horse droppings.
More time on this trip — nine days as opposed to seven — proved more informative and less taxing.
What could have made the visit even more satisfying and complete this time would have been finding the fenced-in pension that we occupied on our honeymoon.
Even if the motherly female proprietor were still around, it’s unlikely she’d remember us. But we never forget her. So taken by the ability of my wife, a French major, to communicate with her in French, she offered to host us again off-season at no cost.
The years flew by. My wife pursued a teaching and college supervisory career and I busied myself as a newspaper editor.
We never did take her up on that generous offer. However, the gesture gave us a kindred feeling about Quebec City and our Canadian neighbors that remains with us today.
Si Liberman, 98, is the retired editor of the Asbury Park Sunday Press.
First Published: February 17, 2023, 11:00 a.m.