Tag Archives: history

The Majesty of Old World Faith – review

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Basilica Ste Anne de Beaupre

A short drive to the east of Quebec City is the majestic Basilica of Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupre, which has been credited by the Catholic Church with miracles related to curing the sick and disabled. Reflecting this history, you are immediately presented with a collection of crutches and braces upon entering the church.

A popular destination for both tourists and pilgrims alike, the church is easily visible from the highway and is a common point of interest on bus tours of the area. For the drivers, although street parking is possible, it is highly unlikely; instead, we took advantage of a small parking lot nearby that charged $5.

Feeling much more imposing from the outside than its sibling in Montreal—Notre-Dame Basilica—it is less dramatic once you step through the great doors. The lighting is much brighter than with Notre-Dame (less moody or awe-inspiring), but that gives you plenty of opportunities to read Ste. Anne’s life story, told in a series of vignettes across the vault above the main chamber.

With so many tourists wandering around, conversing and taking photos, it can sometimes get a little awkward when pilgrims are praying to the Sainte for her intervention in some personal need. More than once, I witnessed less mindful tourists lining up to get shots of themselves with believers praying in the background. I was unimpressed, and while I am not religious, I felt bad for those who are.

On the lower floor is another chapel with a much lower ceiling, surrounded by scenes of various priests and nuns from the area’s history working with the local indigenous community or immigrants to the New World. (I will not get into the historical and social implications of these interactions.)

And in the hallway that rings this chamber are several smaller prayer alcoves and rooms dedicated to Mary or past priests and nuns.

Within walking distance, you will find a variety of restaurants. Those on the narrow town streets tend to be coffee and souvenir shops, while those off the highway are fast-food joints like Tim Hortons and A&W. A couple minutes west on the highway, you will find Restaurant Les Artistes, a true roadside diner. There is also a gift shop on the Basilica grounds, but I did not visit these.

Even if you’re not particularly religious, the Basilica of Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupre has much to offer as a tourism destination because I think more than Notre-Dame, it offers a true glimpse into the role of the Church in Quebec’s history and the faith of its current believers.

Conveniently, off the beaten track – Quebec hotel review

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Chateau Frontenac

(Not the Auberge Michel Doyon…rather the Chateau Frontenac)

Just a few minute’s bus ride (or a 45-minute walk) from Vieux Quebec (the fortress) and downtown Quebec City is the small hotel Auberge Michel Doyon, located in the quiet neighbourhoods along Chemin Saint-Foy. To give you a sense of how homey this place is, the room keys are actual metal keys.
Rooms range from suites with private baths and kitchenette to smaller rooms with shared bathrooms. My friend and I each stayed in a suite that was large only in the comparative sense. The rooms are not exactly spacious—the only sitting space aside from the bed was a folding chair—but they are clean and well-maintained.
The bathrooms are small, with only room for a shower stall, and in the case of my friend’s room, the bathroom sink was in the bedroom, her bathroom limited to shower and toilet. I was lucky enough to get a full kitchenette that included a microwave, bar fridge and kettle, while my friend only managed the fridge and microwave without cupboards. Unfortunately, the only available dishes were a couple of plastic glasses, so I’m not sure how you were supposed to eat anything you might have cooked.
WiFi is available for $5/day and was reliable and fast. One challenge, however, was the paucity of convenient outlets that weren’t already filled with plugs from lamps, television or air conditioner. For example, I had to unplug the TV to plug in my laptop.
The staff are friendly and helpful, assisting with directions or in getting a taxi to the airport. The hotel offers a 99-cent continental breakfast, which we did not try. And there was no problem getting a late check-out, which was given at no charge.
Although the hotel may at first seem off the beaten path, the location is perfect for those looking to explore more than Vieux Quebec. There are several nearby convenience stores and small diners for breakfast or supplies, and if you have a car (ample parking behind the hotel), you have quick access to nearby highways, putting you within minutes of destinations like the Quebec Aquarium or Montmorency Falls. A weekend pass for the local bus system, meanwhile, is only $15.
While it may seem an odd place to stay while visiting town, Auberge Michel Doyon is a decently priced alternative to the fancier and often cramped B&Bs within the fortress walls.

Historectomy – Brexit edition

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Those who do not learn from history represent 100% of the human population.

We have plenty of examples where ignoring history has preceded disaster, and in some cases, preceded a very similar event or process. But correlation does not indicate causation. For one thing, I cannot think of a single example where someone stood up and cited something from history, thereby averting a disaster.

That said, I adore the study of history and so playfully offer the following commentaries on recent efforts to “make Britain great again.”

GreatImmigrationLordy

 

 

Bombast of Victoria Day – part two

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As promised, a few more shots of colour and fire from Monday’s Victoria Day celebrations along the eastern Beaches of Toronto.

See also:

Bombast of Victoria Day – part one

Bombast of Victoria Day – part one

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Although not officially summer, the Victoria Day Weekend (aka May 2-4 weekend) signals the beginning of warmer weather and summer breezes in much of Canada. It is the weekend that everyone starts to plant their gardens, and when people abandon the big city for cottage country.

It is also the first of two weekends of fireworks (the other being July 1, Canada Day), and I am fortunate enough to live down the beach from one of the biggest fireworks shows in Toronto. Here are a handful of shots (blasts) from last night.

Rip Van Winkle lives here

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While visiting Louisiana last week, my friend Mike and I visited the Rip Van Winkle Gardens, an estate turned tourism site founded by Joseph Jefferson in 1870, in large part funded by his success in turning the story of Rip Van Winkle into a world-traveling stage play. And that’s where all references to Rip Van Winkle end.

The estate is beautiful, although the weather and time of year conspired to make the gardens a tad underwhelming. That being said, I did manage to grab a few photos.

The trip offered a bonus, however, for my friend Mike, who is into what I call “disaster porn”.

The estate abuts Lake Peigneur, the site of an incredible engineering disaster when an oil rig on the lake drilled accidentally into a salt mine. You have to watch the video below to truly appreciate the scale of the disaster.

Blood and name calling

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He ain’t half heavy, he’s my half-brother – The Adopted Hollies

If you haven’t got a penny, then half a penny’ll do. If you haven’t got a ha’ penny, then God bless you. – some British thing (not the Hollies)

I read an article this weekend that described the murder of a man by his half-brother. Normally, I don’t read these kinds of stories, but I was drawn to this one because of the phrase half-brother, which made me wonder why this phrase was still in common use.

What the hell is a half brother? (Shawn, Scott, me)

What the hell is a half brother? (Shawn, Scott, me)

I appreciate that historically there may have been a reason to keep track of who one’s siblings were from a legacy perspective. Family homes and farms (and for the wealthy, estates) possibly hung in the balance when Dad died…although I question how often this was a concern. And no self-respecting Shakespearean comedy or drama would be complete without an evil half-brother. But why now?

To quote the Bard:

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

Likewise, to quote Merriam-Webster:

Blood (n): the fluid that circulates in the heart, arteries, capillaries, and veins of a vertebrate animal carrying nourishment and oxygen to and bringing away waste products from all parts of the body.

So again, I ask why the fixation on a surname and the concept of blood ties?

The last time blood ties mattered

The last time blood ties mattered

I never knew my father—not something I take personally; just a fact—and so I have no particular attachment to my last name aside from convenience and familiarity. I feel no compunction to continue the family name. Other people have the surname of Willis…let them continue it if they want.

And my brothers and I only share one common parent—our mom—and so have different surnames. Does this make them any less my brothers, however, than a pair of siblings who shared the genetic legacy of the same pair of parents (pairents)? Not for me (you’d have to ask them their perspectives on this).

For the famous, an argument can be made that sharing DNA somehow opens doors from one generation to the next: Ken Griffey Jr., Drew Barrymore, Robert Downey Jr., Robert Kennedy Jr., Paris Hilton.

Not sure how that last one works

Not sure how that last one works

But in most of those cases, sustained success comes from inherent talent and drive, not simply DNA. (I still don’t understand why Paris Hilton is famous.) Likewise, for every case of possible nepotistic success, there are hundreds or thousands of cases of success despite lineage (no disrespect to parents anywhere).

Perhaps I am the anomaly on this, but I simply don’t understand the importance of the nomenclature to who I am as an individual or how I respond to a family member versus a close non-genetically linked person (aka friend).

Agah, Nicholas and Marsha are my siblings despite the lack of genetic links

Agah, Nicholas and Marsha are my siblings despite the lack of genetic links

Scott and Shawn are my brothers more for our shared experiences than because of any genetic connection, much as Agah and Nicholas are my brothers and Marsha my sister for our shared affection and experiences.

Call me Ishmael, for all I care…if we are good friends, you have likely called me worse.

In the meantime, I’ll use my bloodlines to circulate oxygen to tissues and white cells to fight infection.

Brothers...no half-measures

Brothers…no half-measures

My preferred quote:

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:

In sights

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Searching

Sad hooded eyes

Look me over,

Stare into me,

Searching my soul

For empathy,

A kindred spark,

Recognition

That we are one.

Lives held sacred,

Spirits unchained

Despite coiled wire.

Acknowledgement,

We’re each encaged,

Trapped by limits,

Captive of views

Held by others;

Defining us,

Confining us,

Refining us

To imagery;

A dull shadow

Of former selves,

Bleeding vibrance

To worlds of grey.

But hope remains,

The spark still burns;

Words unspoken

Continue tales

Yet unwritten.

Share my story

Of wilds now gone

That glow in eyes

Hooded and sad.

Cages

Seniority

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(Source: BBC News Sussex)

(Source: BBC News Sussex)

The world wizzes by

At sixty minutes an hour

As the invisible old man

Shuffles by the store window.

Faces, buried in phones,

Are oblivious to his struggles

As early winter snows

And joints no longer fresh

Imperil every footfall;

Each step an exercise

Of will and forethought.

Hands palsy of cold and age,

Eyes rheum of wind and memory,

But the soul burns wildly

Despite bodily afflictions.

Crowds thicken and jostle;

The man holds his place

To catch balance and breathe.

And historied eyes rise

To catch reflections in glass.

The eyes that watch me

Are my own of blue,

But the husk that bears them

Is that of an ancient;

Frail and mortal witness

To a life eternal.