Thank a catastrophic meteorite crash, 350 million years ago, for giving us Canada’s Charlevoix — a spellbinding, 35-mile-wide inhabited crater that is unlike any landscape I’ve seen in the lower 48.
From New York by car, it takes roughly 12 hours to get to this ecological treasure along the north shore of Quebec’s St. Lawrence River. But it’s worth the haul. Charlevoix is a painting-come-to-life of roller-coaster terrain, fjords, capes, rocky bays, evergreen forests, waterfalls, mirror lakes, verdant farmland and soaring granite peaks. (In 1989, Charlevoix was designated a World Biosphere Reserve by UNESCO.)
My husband, Ricky, and I wanted to get away — and I mean really get away — last summer. Charlevoix would be a good choice for a fugitive. It is remote and unspoiled. English is barely spoken.
After spending one night in Montreal, we drove five hours on a Tuesday, arriving in late afternoon to La Pinsonniere (rooms from $295, lapinsonniere.com) in La Malbaie. It’s an 18-room Relais & Chateaux inn, luxurious but rustic, perched on a bluff above the river. There’s an indoor pool and an excellent Quebecois restaurant with a great wine cellar. We arrived in a shroud of fog, yanking woolen sweaters from our suitcase. After an energizing swim in the pool, we sat with the hotel’s concierge, who helped us arrange a whale-watching excursion for the next day and horseback riding for our last day.
The next morning, after a continental breakfast of sinfully moist pastries, flaky croissants and fresh-squeezed juice, we headed east along Highway 138 in pea-soup fog to Baie-Sainte-Catherine to catch the three-hour whale-watching cruise to Tadoussac and the Fjord du Saguenay. Hardier souls book Zodiacs, which are basically rafts with motors that get really close to the leviathans. But a desire to keep my camera dry and my spine intact led us to take Croisières 2001’s boat (adults $69; children 6 to 12, $33; croisieres2001.com) for shelter and comfort.
In the first half-hour, we had to settle for sea gulls and moody seascapes. But then our guide, who kept up a spirited dialogue in French (with a peppering of English), started chanting, “Baleines, baleines!” Quickly, everyone on the boat rolled to one side, then the other, gasping, pointing, clicking. For the next two hours, we were treated to belugas, humpbacks and blue whales rising up, curling over and fanning their enormous tails as they dove back into the water.
This went on for two hours and never got old because these nomads of the sea are awesome. The nautical finale was the sighting of a pod of seals paddling close to our boat. I can cross one thing off my bucket list — this could not have been more thrilling.
The next day we drove 20 minutes south on scenic coastal Highway 362 to Les Éboulements (Saint Joseph-de-la-Rive), a tiny village you get to by turning toward the river and traversing a road so steep and vertiginous it could be used for an Olympic ski jump. In the heart of the village, we made stops at the Papeterie Saint-Gilles papermaking museum (papeteriesaintgilles.com) and Les Santons de Charlevoix, which sells clay figurines.
Then we headed to the free car-ferry for a 30-minute sail to L’Isle-aux-Coudres (Island of Hazelnut Trees). For the first time since we’d arrived in Charlevoix, the sun broke through, changing the hue of the river from gunmetal gray to a shimmering silver. At our destination, we rented bikes at Vélo-Coudres (from $16 per hour; charlevoix.qc.ca/velocoudres) and headed off on the main road that rings the 26-kilometer island, which is lush and relatively flat. We dutifully followed a tourist map, pausing to admire windmills, churches and Caya Rock, a large boulder named for a man who spent half his life sitting on the rock. Locals also have a legend that says all newborn babies on the island come from under the rock.
Tired but happy, we stopped for lunch at Boulangerie Bouchard, a bakery with salads and sandwiches, then sailed back to the mainland. On the way back to our hotel, we visited Alpagas Charlevoix (alpagascharlevoix.com) on Highway 362, where we nuzzled with herds of alpacas, then bought socks at the boutique, which sells hats, gloves, scarves and other delightful woolens.
I hated the thought of leaving our hotel room’s river views, the scrumptious breakfasts and the salty sea air. But luggage in tow, we had one final joy ride before heading back to Montreal for our last night on holiday. Les Écuries Entre Monts et Marées is a riding stable that offers one-hour guided treks ($37 per person; montsetmarees.com) along the rocky flats on the beach. Our guide, Noemi, helped us saddle up. We were with one other couple, clip-clopping toward the water. Every so often, Noemi, doing her best Brigitte Bardot, would glance over her bare shoulders, toss her blond hair, and say, “Ca va?” Satisfied we were all astride our horses, she’d turn around, and, riding her horse hands-free, text. But I, out here on these flats, listening to the lapping waters and the hypnotic rhythm of the horse’s hooves, felt as though the trifles of daily life were a world away. A four-day stay wasn’t long enough.
FLAVOUR PROFILE
A great way to sample Charlevoix’s bounty is to follow the Flavour Trail of Charlevoix, a map of 40 regional farms, orchards, bakeries, cheese makers, gardens and more; routedesaveurs.com