In the kingdom of abyssal depths

entree-tadoussac-voie-eau-digneI have not expected the Fjord Route to experience a first crush on a landscape. It happened in emerging from the woods and the storm Chambord, Lac-Saint-Jean.

An endless view of the misty sea from the rest area. The suite was bright through the valleys and hay canola Hébertville and Lac Kénogami.

I joined the Chicoutimi Saguenay Boulevard, where the chimneys of the factory Rio Tinto announced the country large “industrial cathedrals”. It tells the story in the Regional Museum of Pulperie.

This is where we also find the odd house artwork of painter Arthur Villeneuve. And if you are studious, Pulperie offers prime exposure La Petite Vie. Showcase, beard Popa, wig Lison, the turkey in the oven Moman and his dresses on the clothesline.

You have to see the smiles of the visitors to remember the impact of the cult series.

Descending from the pulp mill, the little white house 1996 flood A must. Except by water.

The Bay
I chose to follow the south side of the fjord but the opposite route is also possible and will lead more directly to Tadoussac.

Coming out of Chicoutimi, my road soars in Rang Saint-Martin where she water one moment and then lost through fields and woodlands of less interest.

At the intersection of Road Anse-à-Benjamin and chemin Saint-Joseph, tanks of Fromagerie Boivin.

After the 2011 fire, the family business has rebuilt. The Assistant Director Patricia Boivin was there and still tells with emotion and pride that defining moment. The one where we stopped to perceive only as “the girl with Peter” but as a builder in itself.

I wanted to take the news of the “Darkest Secret,” that appellation contrôlée cheese project which had been much talk in the last few years. An aging several months under 400 feet of water in the fjord.

I understood that the project is in trouble. The Canadian Food Inspection Agency refused permission on the grounds that it can have access to the product during aging.

Abyssal depth fjord equaled that of administrative machinery.

Deep in the Baie des Ha! Ha !, a public park where I review the landscape: the dock of large cruise ships; the succession of wild capes which contrasts and colors fade to blend into the offshore fog; rounded green and yellow fields; at my feet, strike the sand and pebbles left uncovered by a saltwater tide over four and a half meters.

There, together in this moment, all the landscapes of the fjord. For details, contact the Musée du Fjord, on the bank, a few kilometers away. The making of the fjord by glaciers, wildlife, settlement, industries.

There are also traces the Balsac file records vital, fascinating stories of the great families of “Kingdom”.

This torque-Potvin St-Gelais, for example. I forgot the name of their village but not the statistics: 11 children, 90 grandchildren, and so on. In the end, more than 12,000 descendants alone and counting.

Glad to see the museum also tackles the sensitive issue of regional genetics, the “founder effect” and the myth of “congenital diseases”.

Emerging from the Baie des Ha! Ha !, the Fjord Route (Route 170) leaves “definitively” the Saguenay. To come back, it will take short cuts.

One of them leads to L’Anse-à-la-Croix. At the end of the dirt road, long and smoky house of a Huron camp where Monique says, beating his drum, the legend of the loonie and its message of peace.

We are on the Website of New France, filming location of the movie Black Dress (Lothair Bluteau, 1990).

The decor was also used for the series Shehaweh (Marina Orsini, 1993) and more recently for shooting of the documentary series on Samuel de Champlain.

No one will be surprised, there are many Europeans.

With his thick beard very “New France,” Jean-Benoit Guerin Dubé guide the visit up on the shore of the fjord which was reconstituted Quebec City early years: the strong St. Louis, the abitation Champlain the house of the Jesuits, the chapel of Our Lady of Recouvrance and 100 associate market.

With the right camera angles and adjustments, the landscape caps fell on the fjord for the film became one of the leading De La Martinière in Lévis. He had to think.

Through the window of the inn of the Cevennes, Saint John River, the colorful houses of the Faubourg Saint-Jean-Baptiste and the covered bridge spared by the flood of 1986. (You can see photos of the time to village church.) Behind, agricultural fields and cliffs.

The sounds of the morning. Birdsong of the first walkers deliveries.

The secretary, the book: Happiness is in the Le Fjord, travel stories Danielle Dubé and Yvon Côté, published in 2008. Two hundred and thirty four pages to put 125 km of river between Chicoutimi and Tadoussac and people who inhabit. I take the measure of all that will be missing in my little newspaper page.

The coffee dock, a woman on the slate track the daily menu; on the sandy beach, is about to put the kayaks in the water.

At the marina, a dozen heads arise sailboats hitherto silent, as if someone had given a kick in the anthill.

The shuttle Cruises Fjord arrives on time. We will only fifteen this morning on board for the trip to Tadoussac.

The guide has the good sense not to talk constantly. Words are here unnecessary. We look, we raise our eyes and bows.

The milky sky slowly clears, but the mist hangs between the caps.

At the meeting point of the cliffs and water, a rainbow sky on each stone: black, green, ocher, the faded gray high tide then the darker, which is the first spruce grip .

At the exit of the fjord, the discreet show of belugas. The breath gushing and the rounding of the head and back.

European visitors are met. The others also. Saguenay, like the Gaspé, is a passage “obliged” the Road America.

Two French with whom I exchange just spent four days in Quebec.

– Where are you staying? I ask them.

– Levis, they explain. To offer the morning ferry fun and at night when the city lights come on.

A quest for beauty. These women have the continuity of ideas.

This is the first time I Tadoussac by the waterway. Much prettier than the rise of Highway 138 at the end of the ferry from Baie-Sainte-Catherine.

A postcard landscape with, in the middle, a large bird with outstretched wings red, flanked by shops and inviting cafes.

At the foot of the stairs, past the hotel Tadoussac, the sandy beach follows the contour of the cove teeming children indifferent to the coldness of the water this season.


We reach Route 170 turning in earnest back in Saguenay soon follow the Petit-Saguenay River which meanders lead to Sagard.

The doors of the renovated chapel with the help of Paul Desmarais are locked. As the metal gates of the family estate, a few kilometers away.

Here ends my Fjord Route. No longer the family, I have not dared to ask the house banging.

The Stopru