But then you stand back a bit and take another look and you find your appreciation for what you are seeing grows:
Walking around Old Quebec was like suddenly being transported to the backstreets of Paris. On one building (the place where we stopped for some ice cream) we determined that it was 250 years old. The cafe's were numerous and enticing. I'm sure we would have spent some time in them, except for the tiny constraint of having a dog with us.
Not being especially fluent en francais, often I would look to the signage to give me clues to what was around me. For the most part I think I can interpret most signs, but this one gave me some challenges: