October 11-13, 2019
As we sailed down the St. Lawrence Seaway on the morning of October 11th, the surrounding hills afforded a view of foliage in full splendor--finally! What a captivating non-presidential orange stimulated the cones of our retinas, almost immediately resulting in a mind replete with delight and serenity. Finally!
We had a good time on board. We were quite active: nightly dancing (to a so-so band), yoga, line dancing, zumba and lots of walking as well. Contrary to the norm, we tend to lose a bit of weight on a cruise and this one was no exception--only a few pounds, though.
The food was adequate, if not delicious. Since we are vegetarians--or, more correctly, pescatarians--choices were limited, but still relatively abundant. We enjoyed high tea every afternoon as well.
It was good to transfer to land, though, which was accomplished without a hitch.
The center of the city of Québec is a citadel; it is surrounded by suburbs. It is very picturesque, and very touristy as well. Everyone who lives here speaks French, but English is widespread as well, especially among merchants.
We, of course, visited the cathedral. It was destroyed by the British at least once, and destroyed by fire at least once as well. The present, apparently accurate reconstruction took place in the 1920's The interior is impressive, but the baldachin-like gold plated structure with Jesus as malek ha-olam (king of the universe) was a bit much. It disturbs the view as one approaches the altar from the west. I think, aesthetically at least, the cathedral would look better without it.
We visited the iconic Château Frontenac at the very top; this is where Churchill and others met to plan for D Day.
Other than shopping, there is not much to do. We asked at the tourist center if there was any music going on. No. There was apparently jazz to be heard at various pubs, however. We had pizza on our last evening at one of those pubs--The blues singer/guitarist seemed to me to be a bit amateurish, but everyone seemed to love it.
The next day we visited the fine arts museum La Musée Nacional des Beaux Arts de Québec. It is located in the suburbs, a little over a mile from our hotel. We took a taxi there and walked back.
The art was mostly local, derivative, and dull. Shlocky religious scenes; mere illustrations of dogma, without the genius of a Raphael or Leonardo that transformed that dogma into something profoundly human.
One piece attracted my attention. A small painting in a vitrine. True, it reminds one of Paul Klee's work and was painted around the same time as Klee's were. The title is "Une moitié du monde rit de l'autre côté," ("One half of the world laughs at the other half), by Jean Dallaire.
Can one imagine a better illustration of current polarization? Each character is smug. Each is a know-it-all who looks inward; they don't seem to really see each other. One thinks he's handsome, the other thinks she's beautiful. They are, as the viewer can tell, mere caricatures of humans whose ugliness is apparent to all onlookers, but not to themselves. At least that's the way that I see it.
This is what we become when we divide the world into us and them, into I and those people; this is what happens when we forget that others are no different from ourselves.
The next day we had an uneventful flight back to Baltimore, having enjoyed a delightful twelve days and ready to face the future with serenity and verve.
As we sailed down the St. Lawrence Seaway on the morning of October 11th, the surrounding hills afforded a view of foliage in full splendor--finally! What a captivating non-presidential orange stimulated the cones of our retinas, almost immediately resulting in a mind replete with delight and serenity. Finally!
We had a good time on board. We were quite active: nightly dancing (to a so-so band), yoga, line dancing, zumba and lots of walking as well. Contrary to the norm, we tend to lose a bit of weight on a cruise and this one was no exception--only a few pounds, though.
The food was adequate, if not delicious. Since we are vegetarians--or, more correctly, pescatarians--choices were limited, but still relatively abundant. We enjoyed high tea every afternoon as well.
It was good to transfer to land, though, which was accomplished without a hitch.
The center of the city of Québec is a citadel; it is surrounded by suburbs. It is very picturesque, and very touristy as well. Everyone who lives here speaks French, but English is widespread as well, especially among merchants.
We, of course, visited the cathedral. It was destroyed by the British at least once, and destroyed by fire at least once as well. The present, apparently accurate reconstruction took place in the 1920's The interior is impressive, but the baldachin-like gold plated structure with Jesus as malek ha-olam (king of the universe) was a bit much. It disturbs the view as one approaches the altar from the west. I think, aesthetically at least, the cathedral would look better without it.
We visited the iconic Château Frontenac at the very top; this is where Churchill and others met to plan for D Day.
Other than shopping, there is not much to do. We asked at the tourist center if there was any music going on. No. There was apparently jazz to be heard at various pubs, however. We had pizza on our last evening at one of those pubs--The blues singer/guitarist seemed to me to be a bit amateurish, but everyone seemed to love it.
The next day we visited the fine arts museum La Musée Nacional des Beaux Arts de Québec. It is located in the suburbs, a little over a mile from our hotel. We took a taxi there and walked back.
The art was mostly local, derivative, and dull. Shlocky religious scenes; mere illustrations of dogma, without the genius of a Raphael or Leonardo that transformed that dogma into something profoundly human.
One piece attracted my attention. A small painting in a vitrine. True, it reminds one of Paul Klee's work and was painted around the same time as Klee's were. The title is "Une moitié du monde rit de l'autre côté," ("One half of the world laughs at the other half), by Jean Dallaire.
Can one imagine a better illustration of current polarization? Each character is smug. Each is a know-it-all who looks inward; they don't seem to really see each other. One thinks he's handsome, the other thinks she's beautiful. They are, as the viewer can tell, mere caricatures of humans whose ugliness is apparent to all onlookers, but not to themselves. At least that's the way that I see it.
This is what we become when we divide the world into us and them, into I and those people; this is what happens when we forget that others are no different from ourselves.
The next day we had an uneventful flight back to Baltimore, having enjoyed a delightful twelve days and ready to face the future with serenity and verve.
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