Tadoussac to Matane

Leaving Tadoussac, the scenery started to change again. We’d had the wilderness of the Saguenay region, but now we were following the St Lawrence river and the sheer size of the water really started to hit you.

It doesn’t look like a river anymore — it’s more like the sea.

The journey itself became part of the experience. Forest, water, little coastal communities and long stretches of road where you can just settle into the drive and watch Québec go by.

Then came the ferry.  There was something quite enjoyable about driving the hire car onto a boat and then watching the landscape slowly disappear behind you.

Although getting two people and a hire car ready to board a ferry felt like a small military operation.  Helen was instructed to walk onto the ferry as only the driver could be in the car.

We were third in line… When the time came to board, line number one was waved forward — all three cars! As I approached, the guide put her hand up.

“STOP!”

Consequently, the car waited for fifteen minutes before I was waved onboard last!

The views as we crossed the St Lawrence were stunning, all 17.5 miles! We both enjoyed the 90-minute crossing, which was almost as far as Blighty to France via the English Channel.

The further we travelled, the more it felt like we’d properly left the tourist trail behind. This was Québec as we’d imagined it — big, open and remarkably quiet.

Matane was truly chilly and you find yourself wondering what people actually do for entertainment in some of these places when it’s January and there’s about six feet of snow outside!

We had a stroll before check-in and soon decided Matane was an old port, with sailing history but little else.

Mind you, the micro beer pub was warm and welcoming a little later and we drank a few ales and enjoyed a burger before returning to our digs, which looked like Norman Bates could quite easily have frequented the establishment.

Calling it a night, we reflected on the fantastic ferry crossing and the drive, although the elusive whales still hadn’t shown up!

Matane to Mont-Louis

This was the point where the road trip really started looking like the pictures we’d seen before coming to Québec.

The road follows the coast, with the St Lawrence on one side and hills and forest on the other.

Little villages appear, disappear and then another one pops up a few kilometres further along.

It’s not really a drive where you need to have a long list of attractions planned. The journey itself becomes the attraction.

Of course, this creates a slight problem. You see something interesting, pull over for a look, take a few photographs, get back in the car and drive another ten minutes before seeing something else that makes you think!

We had a few “Ah, we’ll have to stop here as well,” moments.  Which is how a relatively straightforward drive can take considerably longer than planned.

But that’s the whole point of this part of the trip.  You don’t really want to rush it.

When we arrived in Mont Louis, we were taken in by the relative tranquillity, apart from the main road, well the 132 was the way in and out after all.

Nevertheless, the sun was still high, so we decided to treat ourselves to a drink on the terrace and watch the world go by… Well, that and the truckers.  It was akin to Ice Road Truckers, but no ice.

Massive, huge trucks battling along the road, one way in, one way out.  James could see it — the times when he and Aimée had watched on TV, the antics in frozen Canada of the Ice Road maniacs!

It wasn’t long before the sun would set so we took a stroll along the quayside and discovered the giant-sized crab claw of all crab claws! Soon after, we were eating a tea of squid followed by cod.

Another day over and some fond memories made of Mont-Louis.

Mont-Louis to Percé

This was one of those drives where you just keep saying “wow.”

Mountains, sea, rocky coastline and the road winding its way through it all.  The further we travelled towards Percé, the more dramatic the scenery seemed to become.

It really was a legendary drive.

The road ahead; to the left the St Lawrence, to the right towering cliffs, and the road signs warning of what winter can bring.

Imagine the winter — sea and river, water cascading over the barriers from the left while there was a danger of rock falls or avalanche from the right.  Talk about running the gauntlet!

With James at the wheel, we were ready for anything that the weather could throw at us, thankfully every sun-kissed ascent, descent or turn brought another view.

There were plenty of those moments.

Occasionally Helen looked left at me and said:  “You’re too close to the edge… again.” Of course I wasn’t, was I…?

Then there were moments where you looked across at the view and thought, “Right, we’re definitely stopping here.” Although some other official lookout points made you consider… “What exactly are we looking at?”

Eventually we arrived in the Percé area and, of course, there was the big one, Percé Rock.

We’d already had a view across the bay, but now it was huge, massive, a real sight. The scale, the sort you cannot capture in a photo.

You can look at photographs of it beforehand, but seeing it in front of you is something completely different.

It’s one of those landmarks that actually lives up to the photographs, although capturing its impressive colours and size feels impossible.  But wow, seriously wow!

We pulled up and settled into our accommodation, a nice little motel with a view of the rock.  This was home for two nights instead of one.

Somehow we found our way to another micro bar, sampling a couple of the house great offerings!

When tomorrow arrived. The sun shone again and we spent some time exploring the area, although with James slightly under the weather it was go slow.

We made our way up to a viewing point and looked out across the bay. Sadly, no whales…

But what a surprise.

Perched on the pinnacle slightly above us was this majestic bird of prey, the mighty bald eagle, sitting calmly, glancing down at us occasionally.  Almost regal-like. It knew it was king of that particular sky. A sight, a once-in-a-lifetime… No whales but wow!

Percé had for sure delivered on many levels — two stunningly delicious evening meals, a certain je ne sais quoi sort of tranquillity, the magnificent nature and the odd fine ale, of course!

Percé to Carleton-sur-Mer

Leaving Percé, the scenery changed again and again.

By now we’d worked out that Québec seemed to have an endless supply of different landscapes.

Just when you thought you’d got used to one, the road produced another.

The dramatic rocky coastline gradually gave way to bays and beaches.

The noticeable thing was that there appeared to be more and more settled little communities as we travelled around the southern side of the peninsula.

There’s something wonderfully unhurried about this part of Québec.

The roads aren’t about getting somewhere as quickly as possible.

They’re about seeing what’s around the next corner.

Carleton-sur-Mer brought that opportunity for Helen to get her toes wet.

At least once in every tour, “someone” has to put her feet in water.

Not only water, but different water.

This time it was the Chaleur Bay.

So paddling complete, sunset stunning, that meant next was dinner.

A special of buffalo was on offer — a first and possibly a last, but not to be missed by James.  Helen decided on local fish.

So, with dinner complete and looking forward to our travels tomorrow when we head north to complete our circular journey on the 132.

Carleton-sur-Mer to Sainte-Flavie

By now it started to feel as though the journey home was beginning.

Although, to be fair, we were still a bloody long way from Québec City!

The scenery became more open again. Coastal roads, small villages and enormous skies became the order of the day.

After several days of driving around the peninsula, we’d also developed a fairly intimate relationship with the inside of the car.

James had found the buttons for cruise control and not only that, but some fancy thing that followed the lines and slowed the car down if the one in front decided to stop.

But even after all those kilometres, there was still that feeling that you didn’t really want the road trip to finish.  One thing the 132 had thrown at us was those “view point” ahead signs.

On occasion we’d pulled over and we were either excited by what we could see or felt:

“What was that about?”

James decided the “what was that about?” was a cunning plan that encouraged travellers to stop and take a break for no real reason other than to make them stop!

At times you followed a “view point” sign to find no lookout area at all.  At times it felt like a huge treasure hunt on the most grand of scales.

One such occasion happened on this leg.

We dived right, following a sign and suddenly… nothing. We stumbled into a village by chance and came across another clue. 

Turn left. 

We did just that, only to find the route barred. Manoeuvring, we were closely watched by locals.

Then Helen spotted it. A trail sign to an elevated lookout! Elevated, trail what a surprise thought James! This is it announced Helen as she crossed the tiny footbridge, then up and off we went.

And it was very much up again!

Helen led the way. James collected a few fallen maple leaves of stunning colour and various sizes.

Upon reaching the top, well, let’s say the view was stunning…

To return to the car, we took the wider, slightly more sedate-in-gradient track, more of a ski-run-prepared route back to the car.

The views as we returned through the trees and landscape were truly glorious. It really was a privilege to walk among the trees and feel this part of our world.

Onward then to our destination after that slight detour which we had fallen upon by chance.

Every time we thought we’d probably seen the best of the scenery, Québec seemed to come up with another little surprise.

Of course there are plenty of corners and it wasn’t long before we were heading inland, turning the corner back toward the north coast and the St Lawrence River.

The landscape changing to forest upon forest, which clung closely to river banks and small picturesque lakes.

This is where imagination could easily take over, with blue sky and sunlight reaching every changing leaf, as well as the ones that danced in circles, on the floor, in the breeze.

The forest almost seemed to echo another time, old stories, old ways of life, canoes moving quietly along the water.

The whole of Route 132 had effectively become one very long “ooh, look at that” road.

Our accommodation in Sainte-Flavie was a hotel and art gallery combined, Centre d’Art M Gagnon.

It felt slightly whacky — a world seen through the eyes of someone with a different perspective.

Nonetheless, it was interesting, peaceful and worth the stay.

Oh, and the sunset was remarkable, as the St Lawrence for the moment was very good-natured and became as calm as a millpond.

Sainte-Flavie to Rivière-du-Loup

We were now firmly back in St Lawrence country and slowly leaving the Gaspé Peninsula behind.

The scenery wasn’t quite as dramatic as around Percé, but there was something lovely about watching the landscape gradually change as we travelled west.

More open countryside, water, forest and those seemingly endless stretches of road.

It was also one of those days when you start to appreciate just how far you’ve travelled.

When you look at the map, the distances don’t always seem that impressive.

When you’ve actually driven them, stopped, explored, taken photographs and then got back in the car and done it all again, it feels very different.

Upon arriving, we knew Québec had given us pretty much everything — lakes, forests, mountains, coastline, ferries, wildlife, little villages and some seriously impressive scenery.

And we still weren’t finished.

Our last stroll on the wild side of Québec took us to Parc des Chutes, where we enjoyed a view of the Rivière-du-Loup falls, a stroll through tree-lined trails and scenes of the river as it made its way down toward the St Lawrence.

Capped with a fine Sunday beer at the local tap before taking in our very last Québec sunset!

Rivière-du-Loup to Québec City

And suddenly, we’re heading towards the end of our road trip.

After days of coastline, mountains, forests, ferries and little communities, we’re finally heading back towards Québec City and the airport.

The scenery gradually became less about discovering what’s around the next corner and more about actually having somewhere to be.

Which is probably just as well, because the car has to go back!

It felt slightly sad to be returning our car at the end of the road trip.

For ten days it had effectively been our home on wheels — taking us from one end of Québec to the other, carrying all our stuff and, most importantly, at times, putting up with our rather questionable navigation decisions.

Having said that, the system in the car was complete pants!

Looking back, this had been one hell of a road trip.

We’d set off from Québec International Airport with a rough plan, but the peninsula had delivered far more than we’d expected.

2,069 kilometres later, we were back to where we started — Québec Airport.

When you look back at the map, it really is quite something.

We’d seen so much of Québec, and somehow we’d managed to turn a rough plan into one hell of an adventure.

And although we are ready for a rest, there was also that slightly annoying feeling that we’d only just settled into the rhythm of the road.

Alas, this road trip was at an end.

But thankfully, Canada isn’t quite finished for this trip just yet!