Now if you know me, you’ll know I like to plan. I like to know exactly where we’re going, how long we’re going, what we’re doing, what we’re eating, where we’re sleeping. I like to organize an itinerary, finding out the cheapest lodging, the famous food and restaurants in the area, the best bargains.

But as I’ve said here before, my parents have a different idea of a vacation. They’re chill. Because they are usually such busy people, when they want a vacation, they want a vacation—as in, minimal brainwork, less physical activity, and some pampering. It was a bit exasperating for me to travel with them, but our trip turned out…close to perfect, if not already so.

The funny thing is…nothing turned out the way I “planned”. We had to cancel our first night’s hotel reservation because we ended up driving all the way up to the Niagara Falls instead of resting at Buffalo, NY. We ended up not spending the night in Toronto, instead driving all the way to Kingston. At Kingston, we discovered the Thousand Islands and spent a day there instead. Then, we ditched Montreal and drove several more hours north-east to Quebec City.

If I were by myself, I would have gone crazy. Actually, if I were by myself, I would have stuck to my plans. But traveling with my parents, seeing their happy, relaxed faces and their joy in being one family again…it made me relax, too. By the first night, I had already thrown my plans into the dust, and joined my parents in their spontaneous adventure.

Well, thank God for that, because otherwise we would never have been able to visit Quebec City. Remember what I said about my ideal vacation? Well, this was it. My idea of the perfect exploring city.
Quebec City is one of the oldest European settlement in North America, founded by Samuel de Champlain in the early 1600s. It is the capitol of the province Quebec, located along the Saint Lawrence River, and despite a brief British rule in the early 1800s, it is still largely dominated by Francophones. 
I didn’t get that outer-worldly feel in Toronto, but in Quebec…I truly felt like a foreigner. The city is gorgeous in a quaint, European village way—stone walls, stone buildings, stone-paved winding roads with old-fashioned shops and bakeries and cafes.
There are cars, of course, but many roads are for pedestrians only, and what do you know? Carriages!
I did a last-minute research, and found a touring route for us to follow, called the VivaCite Trail. It ran a total of about 3.3 miles around the city, and all we had to do was follow the green and blue ground markers:
Unfortunately, my parents were not used to so much walking, so we never got to finish the trail. But we did hit up all the spots I wanted. Like J.A. Moisan, the oldest grocery store in North America:
I practically skipped into the shop. My mother and brother opted to take a seat outside because they didn’t see what the big deal was about a supermarket. My dad followed me just because he was curious as to why I was so excited. But come on, it’s COOL!
I didn’t get anything in there though, because they mostly (expensive) gourmet food products, and it wasn’t like I could carry cheese with me on a road trip.

We also stopped by Choco Musee Erico, a chocolate shop and museum:
  It wasn’t exactly a museum so much as a gallery showing how the Ancient Mayans used cacao and how it transformed into the sweet sexy candy we all love, but it was a new lesson for my parents.
What I found totally cool is that they showcase their kitchen for customers to view how they make their artisanal chocolates:
There was even a slot machine for sampling 100% cacao nibs, which my dad immediately fished out a quarter for:
We didn’t like them too much…They were bitter and rough and knobby. I guess we’re just a chocolate barbarian and want them to be smooth, silky, sweet, and milky. Preferably in the shape of pretty cupcakes:
One thing about touring Quebec City is that it makes you crave gelato. I don’t know why, but this is a gelato-obsessed city and everywhere you go, you find gelato shops.
Obviously, we had to stop by one to see what the fuss was about:
We all got different flavors. My dad got the mocha and salted caramel. My mom got the yogurt and nougat. My brother got the passion fruit and mango. I got the pistachio and mascarpone:
Mine was the best. No, seriously. Everyone agreed. The pistachio gelato actually tasted like real pistachio—none of that minty, neon green crap! And the mascarpone gelato was rich, creamy, and tangy yet not sour. I loved every lick!

Another sight you frequently see in Quebec are churches. We only stopped by a couple because we couldn’t possibly visit every single one here. I did a little prayer at a small Jesuit church, asking God to bless our trip:
And He did, because next thing we knew, we were passing by one of the best markets I’ve ever visited, the Old Port Market (or Marche du Veiux Port in French):
If my family thought I was overly enthusiastic about J.A. Moisan, I was positively bounding over with four limbs and wagging tongue, and not just because I desperately needed to pee.
Oh Wonderful, Wonderful Market! What’s not to love here?
  All these fresh produce…it’s a totally different feel when you are wondering among French-speaking natives with shopping baskets.
There were other shops, too. Like flower boutiques managed by nuns…
And array of interesting spirits and wines…
Maple syrup products…
And CHEESE!!! I think the only French words I know is “bonjour”, “merci”, and “fromage”.
After an hour of browsing around, we bought some fresh berries which were super duper sweet and plump and juicy:
And also fleshy, flavorful tomatoes which we ate like an apple:
Mmm. Fresh, vine-ripened tomatoes taste nothing like generic store-bought ones. The problem was, we got really full. And heavy. And suddenly, my parents could walk no longer. So we took a detour back to the parking lot, but I made sure we went through a different part of Quebec City, around the lovely Petit Champlain and Place Royale area:
We got to see the famous Mural of Quebecers, a gigantic outdoor painting depicting 400 years of Quebec City history, with drawings of 15 historical figures:
I don’t know enough about Quebec’s history to identify the figures, but my ego placed me right at home among them:
…while I think what with his constant texting with his girlfriend (even though this is a family vacation), my brother is right at home as a hopeless 17th century romantic…
Tee hee. I forgave him after he let me take this picture.

Just like Europe (which I’ve never been, so this is just a speculation), there were many street performers to entertain tourists. I got to see my first real human statue:
  Listened to the delightfully delicate strums  of a giant (I say giant because he was HUGE. Not fat, just really big-sized. His head was three times the size of mine, and his hands like a tennis racket).:
And goggled at a French hottie (and I mean the one on the left):
Okay, I know he’s not French French…but I felt like I was in the streets of Paris. I never knew there were such a place just a road trip up in North America!

By evening we all got rather hungry. We strolled around the streets for awhile until we came across a restaurant within our budget, a quaint restaurant by the name of L’Omelette:
It’s a cute little place, with dishes ranging between $10-$15. The waitresses are really warm and friendly, dressed in an adorable green outfit which…though cute, you would not pay me to wear.
We started out with a plate of mussels:
Fresh mussels with white wine, garlic, and onions.  My dad ordered a combo meal of pizza and spaghetti:
Yes, I severely disapproved. Who orders cheese pizza and spaghetti with tomato sauce in Quebec City? American tourists, that’s who. But my dad was craving pasta, and nothing else. Like a true Korean, he wanted it spicy, but he had to make do with lots of Tabasco sauce.
My mom got the artichoke and tomato omelette (which I ordered for her):
  And my brother got the seafood omelette, which actually came with real scallops, together with shrimp:
I got the asparagus crepe:
It was TEENY. And it was more like a lasagna. It had a crispy dough, broiled with mozzarella cheese on top, and filled with a rich, creamy sauce.
But it was good. Small, but good. The broiled cheese won me over.
On the side, we had Poutine:
This is the second time I’ve tried poutine. The first time, I had poutine at Burger King. Several of you cried your outrage. Aletheia insisted I should try one in a “hole-in-the-wall, low key, authentic Québécois resto in the heart of Quebec City”. I wonder if L’Omelette is considered that, but obviously I knew Burger King wouldn’t cut it, so I decided to give poutine another try here…
…and sorry, my dear Canadians…I’m just not loving it. I like the cheese, but that’s about it. The gravy…eh, too heavy, too salty. The fries…I like them crispy and dry, not wet and soggy. I like to eat them with my hands, not a fork.
I guess I just haven’t tried the real deal yet? But I feel like I’ve lost my chance. Oh well. At least I’ve tried it two times.

Okay. This is a freaking MONSTER of a post. But it deserves all the attention it has gotten, because I think our day here in Quebec City was the most enjoyable day out of our entire trip. I would visit again in a heartbeat, but preferably with another foodie. Who’s with me?

Question of the Day: Have you tried Poutine before? Love it, hate it, don’t freaking care? What kind of shops do you love to visit when you are traveling?