January 7th, 2023.

Did you know that Old Quebec is over 400 years old and is the original neighbourhood and ‘heart’ of Quebec City, Canada. Although very cold, Old Quebec is a neighbourhood rich in history and romance. When the snow falls, it feels even more festive and enchanting. Shop windows are decorated, and sparkling lights adorn the streets. So, there is nothing quite as romantic as a horse-drawn carriage ride through the twinkling winter lights of a historic city, Vieux (Old) Quebec!

Until the early 20th century, horse-drawn carts and carriages ruled the road. The power and speed of the car would gradually win out, but carriages have never completely disappeared in Québec and today it is one of the few cities in the world where these calèche rides make it possible to discover Old Québec at the leisurely pace of yesteryear. For Marc and me, we thought what better way to finish the 4 days we had in this old, fortified city, not to mention, so romantic. To feel like we had gone back in time as we heard hooves on cobblestone, harnesses and directives given to the horse that would be enhanced by stories and secrets told by the coach driver to add a touch of magic to our experience. Why not!

It was romantic but it was so, so, SOOOO COLD.

Under the full moon, with a clear crisp night air and temperature at Minus 18 + wind chill, we stepped up into the open-air carriage (as you would expect it to be), given a thick blanket to wrap around our bodies and to try and trap some warmth as we rode through the city. Marc wrapped me romantically up in this blanket and I was ready for this romantic ride! Off we went. The driver was so illuminating and gave us a continual prattle about the places we saw – some we had seen during the days but others we had not ventured to. His historical empirical dialogue made the carriage ride such a wealth of information. But my assumption of being warm was totally wrong.  I was so cold. I could not get my body to warm up. Marc grabbed another blanket to assist but it didn’t work either.

I usually take numerous photos on my iPhone, but the gloves I had brought from Australia, that I thought would be useful re: their thickness and supposed warmth, were useless. Firstly, I could not fit my hand into my pocket to get the phone re: these awkward gloves, secondly if I had to take them off, I would not get them on again, and thirdly, if I had taken them off to take photos, my fingers would have frozen onto the iPhone photo button! Hence no photos from me. My hands were frozen solid to my body holding the ‘warm blanket’ to my even more frozen body.

The ride was still exhilarating … more narratives being told by our driver, the horse trotting slowly around the city, bringing us closer to points of interest, Marc sitting snugly beside me, but my coat hood had now also fallen off, (you know that part of the coat to keep your head warm, which then traps heat in your body). I was quite sure my hair was now curling around my face in icicles. Marc tried to assist, but he was also holding up the blanket, clenching my frozen fingers with his own and trying to take photos with his SLR camera (he had good gloves). Such a romantic picture!

After a 45-minute journey, we arrived back at the Frontenac hotel and discovered that the driver only took cash. Of course, we did not have that much cash on us, we always use cards. So, Marc raced into the hotel to get some money from the ATM cash machine in the foyer while I stayed with the carriage driver. The driver was very trustful since he said I didn’t have to. I could go with Marc. However, I felt that I should stay as a form of surety.

There I was, standing next to the driver, feeding carrots to the horse, who I think was covered more warmly than I was. Not moving much. Wind blowing more cold artic air around my already shivering body. The snow forming ice crystals on my head as I watched the beautiful moon in the sky and chatted to the driver. Time moved on and I began to stamp the now two icicles that resembled my feet…. stomping heavier as more minute’s tick by … and tick by…and tick by, wondering all the time what had happened to Marc? While making small talk between chattering teeth, my eyes are constantly scanning the people coming out of the hotel, watching for that blue hooded man of mine to come to my rescue before his lady turned into a blue statue to match his clothing…. although I was already doing that! Talking politely with the driver as I gradually turned into a frozen statue.

Unbeknownst to me was Marc having found the ATM in the lobby of the hotel was having ALL the credit cards and debit cards refused without explanation. In the end he asked the concierge what his options were? In the end he had enough Australian money to exchange at the hotel itself, to pay the carriage driver plus had found out where a more reliable ATM was nearby.

Finally, Marc appeared through the biting arctic wind to pay the carriage driver who accepted the money without counting it – he too probably had hands too cold to risk removing his gloves to count the money. Marc assisted me to move my frozen body and stagger, one stalactite leg after the after, across to enter the hotel to start the defrosting, melting moments process.

Do you know that earlier that day, I had looked at the purchase of a winter hat (a beanie). I really hate hats and the practical side of me was saying, I am not going to wear it, but what was my resolve for the next day? Get a better hat despite my dislike of such bits of apparel for myself. I did!

And yes, now I am wearing it all the time!