Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

Quebec City: Notes and Itinerary

 

Quebec City from our hotel room Christmas morning

A seven-day family Christmas trip to Quebec City. We stayed in the Delta Hotel in Quebec City (690 Boulevard René-Lévesque Est) and took Ubers and walked around the city, particularly Old Quebec.

December 22 – bitterly cold and windy, Angie and I had lunch at INOX Brewery – Shared Platter European Hot Dogs. Everyone else arrived after 10pm, it was a full day of travel for them.

December 23 – Exploration of German Christmas Markets across the city. Made our way to the Petite Champlain, ride the funicular, lunch at 1608 Bistro good charcuterie and french onion soup. Breakfast and Evening meals in the hotel.

Angie and I shared the Charcuteries & Formages fins du Terroir – Pour 2 at the 1608 Bistro


Christmas Eve: the high temperature was only in the mid-teens, but without wind it was very bearable, one can almost say that it was pleasant. The old aphorism, “There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes,” applies. Brief stop at Second Cup Café in Place D’Youville. Shopping for food and snacks at Metro Plus. I felt like we were cheating a little because I already felt at home at the Richelieu, a smaller, more intimate grocery store near our hotel.  We walked through interesting neighborhoods, while Miranda and Liam played in the snow. We bought bread at Boulangerie artisanale Epi-Fanny (Rue Saint-Jean). In the afternoon, walk to the Plains of Abraham, where famous battle between the French and British colonial forces took place in 1759, to see the Saint Lawrence River. Dinner at Sapristi…bistro bar, a popular Italian place near St. Jean Gate.


Christmas Day: Breakfast buffet at the hotel, continuing conversation about ground cherries. Walk on the Plains of Abraham, overlooking the Saint Lawrence River. Dinner at the Cochon Dingue (1614 Rue Saint-Jean) with French Canadian Cream Pie.


Boxing Day: Aquarium de Québec with arctic foxes and polar bear (ours blanc). I walked along the citadel and found the memorial to the Irish famine. Café Félin Chat-Nous (cat café) for hot chocolate and coffee.

The view of the Saint Lawrence River, over Petit Champlain

Irish Famine Memorial in Quebec City

Shy Iris

Having hot chocolate and tea

Beautiful Bianco 

December 27
– Miranda and I went to a record store (CD Melomane Inc – 248 rue Saint-Jean), I bought Steve Terre’s Rhythm Within, and Bowie’s ChangesOne for her. Lunch: L’Atelier (in the bubbles). Musée de la Civilisation. We had dinner at hotel with Mom and Beau. While Christian, Heather and the kids had dinner with friends who were also visiting the city.

Eating in the bubbles at L'Atelier

December 28 – Notre-Dame de Québec Basilica-Cathedral. Lunch: fondue at Restaurant Le Petit Château. Maple Taffy at the Château Frontenac. Sledding at the Plains of Abraham. Angie and I went to the Dufferin Terrace Tobogan Slide. Late dinner (appetizers) at Bistro Hortus.

Lunch at Restaurant Le Petit Château 

Hot taffy poured over ice, then it can be rolled up on a stick for a warm treat


Sledding on the Plains of Abraham

The toboggan run

Post-toboggan meal at Bistro Hortus


December 29 – Leave Québec; got everyone else on the way and then Angie and I took a walk. The temperature was above freezing for the first time this week. Quick snack at Sapristi…bistro bar. Train ride to Montreal, dinner at Les Soeurs Grises Bistro-Brasserie (32 McGill Street).

December 30 – Breakfast at Pigeon Café (inspired by Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!). Depart from Montreal, all day ride to Poughkeepsie.



 





Thursday, December 21, 2017

Dickens, Cambridge (OH), and Christmas

The works of Charles Dickens elicit strong responses. There are those who take great umbrage about the place in Dickens occupies in literary canons. His contemporaries often found that his work was wordy and tedious; some modern critics find him too didactic and overly committed to idealized characters rather than real-life people.[1] Yet, many of his works are considered classics, stories that continue to be read in high schools and inspire films, plays, musicals and other works. More so than any other, Dickens has become synonymous with the proper way to celebrate Christmas. The emphasis on traditional meals, caroling, and gift-giving can be traced to A Christmas Carol, even if most people are unfamiliar with the underlying social and political commentary that accompanies the novella.
In Cambridge, Ohio during the holiday season, I found evidence of this connection between the public imagination and Charles Dicken. Each year, along Wheeling Avenue, this small town erects nearly one hundred displays as a part of the annual “Dicken’s Victorian Village,” recreating London Victorian Christmases of the 1850s.  Up and down the sidewalks, in shop windows, and even upon some second stories, mannequins display scenes from a holiday season from our collective imagination. The displays attempt to balance the idealized Christmas with the poverty and deprivation Dickens wrote about. For example, a female mannequin is seated, exhausted, because she has no days off during the holiday season and is expected to be constantly available to provide her service. Another display shows an elderly woman begging from an upper-class man. The accompanying sign from this display notes that there were few respectable remunerative opportunities for females in the London of the 1850s. Yet, most others describe decorating trees, depict Tiny Tim and Bob Cratchit, and details of Dickens the man and his family. These are scenes that prompt nostalgia for days gone by; an imagined simpler time. But juxtaposed are the signs and symbols of the holiday season of the present, with more prosaic advertisements. For example, a used car lot, not too far from Wheeling Avenue, beckons potential customers with a sign that reads: “Naughty or Nice / Get a new car for your wife.”
It is interesting to speculate how Dickens might feel about the linkage between him and Christmas today. I am sure that he would be flattered to think that his works, specifically A Christmas Carol, nearly 175-years old, continues to be relevant and beloved. But in one of his lesser known works, The Chimes, written a year after A Christmas Carol, Dickens is particularly suspicious of nostalgia and believing that there were “good old days.” The primary protagonist in this novella is Toby Veck, who opens the story with a prayer, muttered to himself, “I don’t know what we poor people are coming to. Lord send we may be coming to something better in the New Year nigh upon us!” Although it is frequently pointed out that Dickens was concerned about the plight of the poor, the collective remembrance of A Christmas Carol tends to focus on the spirit of Christmas and holiday traditions. But Dickens was also concerned about how recounting the “good old times,” as he called it in The Chimes, served to discount the lives of the poor. In remembering the “good old times,” no one ever talks about poverty and deprivation. Toby comes to believe, because of the persistent nostalgia for an undefined previous romanticized era, that the poor must accept sole blame for their plight and are “born bad.” This relieves the intelligentsia and upper-classes from any responsibility for the system, the alleviation of poverty, or supporting the public tools, such as education, to help the poor escape the situation. Surely, a lesson for the modern world as well.



[1] In an editorial written in the Wall Street Journal, playwright David Mamet wrote that the author’s work made him “vomit.” Mamet admits, however, that A Tale of Two Cities and A Christmas Carol are classics of English language literature. David Mamet, “Charles Dickens Makes Me Want to Throw Up,” Wall Street Journal, 22 July 2017. 

Saturday, December 24, 2016

Reading A Christmas Carol in the Twenty-First Century

The mirror, in the Parker House Hotel, Boston, 
where Dickens practiced A Christmas Carol
before giving public readings
Although published nearly 175 years ago, A Christmas Carol remains essential reading. While it may not immediately seem to be a book about travel, Charles Dickens, a prodigious traveler himself, has his protagonist travel through time and space to review the consequences of his action. Because the Christmas season is both a time of charity and reflection, Dickens takes this opportunity to remind his reader about the necessity of both. The book is a critique of Victorian England, but the genius of the book is how it transcends time and place to think about our lives and others.
The opening paragraph of the novella set the scene: There is a broad discussion of how mean and cruel Scrooge is to his fellow man. His general disposition is so unkind that even the blind man’s dog finds no favor with him. When confronted by his nephew with his unpleasant nature, especially given it is the Christmas season, Scrooge asks how can he not be? He considers himself surrounded by fools and people who do not understand the driving force of the economy. The holiday season marks a time at which people spend lavishly money they do not have; engage in celebration, while they have nothing to celebrate. In short, they foolishly spend their money to make others happy. His nephew retorts, on the contrary, the season is one in which people open their hearts and treat their neighbors charitably. He implores Scrooge to think of people, those less fortunate, as “fellow-passengers to the grave;” we all share the same mortality and the existential plight of this reality. We may not have profited from those less fortunate, but the Christmas spirit instructs us to treat them charitably nonetheless.
A few pages later, Scrooge is visited by two men who are seeking subscriptions for the poor: “Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.” His reply is telling: he queries about whether prisons and workhouses still exist. When he is told how horrible the places are, that many would prefer to die than be sent to those institutions, his response that those unfortunates should die, it would have the benefit of reducing the surplus population. The words written by Dicken, throughout his career, helped to highlight the plight of the poor, the tragedy of child labor, and the degradation of poor houses. It would be easy to tell ourselves that this was in the past, part of nineteenth century Dickensian Britain; however, these problems continue still shape our world, economies and lives.
Scrooge claims not to know of the dismal nature of the poorhouses. It is a willful neglect. It was not his business to concern himself with such things; his business kept him occupied to the extent that he could not, nor did he want to, take a concern in the plight of the poor. When his dead former business partner, Marley, appears to him, Scrooge doubts the apparition, instead choosing to believe the facts (as relayed by his senses) cannot be trusted. It might be a case of indigestion caused by mustard, cheese, or an undercooked piece of potato. His rationalization of what it could be, rather than what the facts lead us is all too familiar with the current fascination of fake news. All too often we choose to believe what fits our heuristic of how the world works and reject out of hand data contrary to our beliefs.
Scrooge compliments his former partner on his business acumen; however, the ghost of Marley counters that his actual business should have been the welfare of humans, benevolence, and charity. Instead he, and Scrooge, chose to focus on the trade by which they accumulated wealth. Yet, “The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business,” Marley laments. It is a recurring theme in the works of Dickens, telling his readers repeatedly that a person’s worth is not predicated on their ability to make money. When confronted with the probable death of Tiny Tim, the Ghost of Christmas Present reminds Scrooge of his comment that such deaths would reduce the “surplus population.” It is a funny thing that, in modern society, we place rhetorical emphasis on those who forego remuneration in order to help other humans or the world in general. Yet, we privilege and celebrate those who make a great deal of money as being wise or insightful. Where is our concern for those less fortunate?
The pursuit of money, while forgetting the humanity around him, leads to the end of Scrooge’s morals, kindness, and happiness. We can even see this as an enlightened self-interest: karma, or what goes around, comes around. It is a point not lost on the traveler either: a generosity of spirit yields an abundance in return. In the opening chapter (stave), Scrooge is clearly unhappy: he offers no charity and receives none in return. Dickens points to his avarice as the source of his difficulties. His pursuit of money means that he loses his chance at love. The Ghost of Christmas Past shows him how a young woman, Belle, puts an end to their relationship because he places more emphasis on the idol money than her. She Admonishes him, “I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?” Clearly disturbed by this vision of the past, Scrooge is forced to endure the vision of her as a grown woman, basking in the love of her daughter and the adoration of her husband. The path not traveled, martial contentment with Belle, is the price Scrooge pays for his avarice.
Dickens uses the voice of the Ghost of Christmas Present to remind is readers of the hypocrisy of Victorian England. There was a bill introduced in parliament to close bakeries and other entertainment venues on Christmas and Sundays, which would have deprived poor people of a hot roast and a day of leisure. Proposed by Sir Andrew Agnew, the Sunday Observance Bill was designed to enforce a certain amount of piety for religious holidays; however, the burden would have fallen particularly hard on the working class. Since bakeries were forbidden to use their ovens to bake bread on Sundays, many allowed their ovens to be used to cook roasts for those who did not have the means to so in their own homes. Sundays were the only day off for most of the working poor, thus the law would deprive them of their recreation opportunities. Scrooge asks the apparition if these moves were not done in the name of Christmas spirit. But the ghost explains that those who were attempting to do so were using bigotry and hatred in the name of piety to further their interests and do not speak for the spirit of the holiday itself. Dickens was particularly keen to advocate on behalf of the working class and their leisure time. In a tract against the Sunday Observance Bill, he wrote: “The idea of making a man truly moral through the ministry of constables and sincerely religious under the influence of penalties, is worthy of the mind which could form such a mass of monstrous absurdity.” Dickens goes on to argue that the minister who buys sports equipment for children was doing more to make people happy, religious and moral than any legislation could ever hope to achieve.
The use of Christmas as a setting implies a certain religious dogma. But to think that the lessons from Dickens applies solely to Christians would be a mistake. The lessons of kindness and charity, of treating others well, of being patience and kind, transcends a single religion and a specific holiday. The traveler knows that acts of kindness while on a journey is repaid several times over.



Wednesday, December 24, 2014

'Twas the night before Christmas at Auckland Airport

Spending the night at a budget hotel near the airport, I planned for dinner assuming that there would be very few dining options available Christmas Eve night. The last thing I wanted was a Christmas Eve dinner consisting of McDonalds.  At the airport, I selected a chicken, brie and cranberry sandwich and a brownie for dessert. It was a pleasant dinner watching New Zealand television; the sandwich was good, the brownie not so much. It was relaxing, there was nowhere to go, hence no guilt for just relaxing. A few hours later, after watching too much television, I wandered down to the lobby for a snack. The old poem suggests that there was “not a creature was stirring;” however, in my case, there was not a vending machine working.  It is alright, it just meant that I could have more for Christmas breakfast

Friday, December 19, 2014

Exploring Auckland

The first time I seriously considered Auckland was in college. I remember reading a brief story, in our local newspaper, about a guy who got on plane heading for Oakland, but ended up in Auckland. The man, Michael Lewis,  said that he was having trouble understanding the accent and thought he was going Oakland, but then grew concerned when the flight was taking him to Tahiti first. At the time, I was dubious about his story thinking that it was a clever scam to get a free trip to an exotic and costly destination; however, upon tracking down a few articles the story does seem to make more sense. 

My story is different: I intended to fly to Auckland, or more specifically to New Zealand. I once read that New Zealand looks like England did fifty years ago. I was not in England fifty years ago; however, judging from my, thus far, limited sojourns in Auckland, I am not sure that the observation is true. Auckland, which is not only the largest city in New Zealand but in the entire South Pacific, is different from many major cities. The city is a place of interesting architecture, where remnants of the the colonial past are still visible. 

A Pukeko in Western Springs, Lakeside Park 
The idea that a country of islands, half a world away, could come, occupy and colonize another chain of islands in the South Pacific is fascinating. Even today, with modern technology and transportation, New Zealand is isolated and exotic. As John Chambers points out, the interchange of cultures between the staid English and the sexually adventurous Polynesians makes the story of colonization improbably intriguing, with the potential for misunderstanding mores. Yet, the remoteness of the sizable islands of New Zealand gives it an other worldly draw. It took time for nature to colonize these remote islands. With no natural predators, some birds abandoned the use of flight. Trees and vegetation did not have the same development patterns as other areas.

The remoteness and mixing of identities, together with more recent arrivals, produces different kind of country. It does cause a tension between what New Zealand is and what it wants to be. Upon entry into the country, the traveller has a number of procedures he/she encounters. The arriving aircraft is sprayed with an aerosol in an attempt to prevent foreign insects from entering the ecosystem. A customs form, which all people arriving must fill out, uses draconian language in an attempt to enforce compliance with laws designed to protect native plants and animals. [Despite the ominous language, I found all the officials courtesy and helpful.] These measures are, no doubt, necessary to protect what remains of the fragile ecosystem. 

Whitcoulls in Central Auckland
Yet, things seem strangely familiar. The most common small bird I have seen while walking around Auckland is the sparrow. There are plenty of familiar stores and fast food restaurants.  Even Christmas is celebrated with a similar enthusiasm and tradition as in the Northern Hemisphere. During the holiday season, which is summer in the Southern Hemisphere, many of the decorations, carols and traditions appear to be centered around the notion that it is supposed to be cold. I was sitting in a café, having a coffee, while blaring over the speakers were two, back-to-back, versions of “White Christmas.” Santa and his reindeers adorn what was once Farmer’s Trading Company, a major department store in New Zealand now a huge bookshop, and snowmen dot the city. Yet, there are subtle differences. A restaurant I had dinner in one evening announced the following day (20 December) that is would be closing until mid-January for the holidays, a tradition that dates back to when shops in New Zealand closed at 6PM everyday. There are rather large flightless birds wondering around the numerous city parks.  And, after all, there are quite a few people wearing shorts and sandals wandering the city. 






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