Quebec City: Private Walking Tour of Old Quebec & Petit Champlain

4.87

(594 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

I was late. Not dramatically late, but just enough that I arrived at the meeting spot in Upper Town a little flustered, scarf half-tied, camera battery already blinking low. Our guide — Sylvie, with a red umbrella and an easy grin — just shrugged and said, “Happens to all of us.” That small kindness set the tone for the rest of our private Quebec City walking tour. The air smelled faintly like woodsmoke (someone’s fireplace maybe?) and coffee drifting out from a nearby café. We started off down those narrow stone lanes, and I immediately forgot about my dead battery.

Sylvie knew everyone. She waved at the baker outside his shop on Rue Saint-Jean and paused to point out a tiny carving above a doorway I would’ve missed — apparently it’s been there since 1700-something. The cobblestones underfoot felt uneven but kind of grounding? There’s something about actually feeling the city with your feet. We stopped in Place Royale where she told us about Samuel de Champlain founding Quebec right there, and honestly, I got goosebumps thinking how old these stones are. At Notre-Dame-des-Victoires Church, she whispered that weddings here always spill out onto the square — you could almost hear the bells echoing even though it was silent.

We wandered down Breakneck Stairs (I gripped the railing like an amateur) into Petit Champlain District — all painted shopfronts and strings of lights overhead. It started to drizzle, so we ducked under an awning with some locals sharing jokes in French. I tried to order a pastry in my best accent; Sylvie laughed kindly but didn’t correct me (probably for the best). By Dufferin Terrace, the St Lawrence River looked grey and endless; wind tugged at my jacket while she pointed out how the Chateau Frontenac towers over everything — it really does look like something out of a fairytale from down there.

I didn’t expect to feel so connected by just walking around with someone who knows every shortcut and story. It wasn’t rushed — we lingered wherever we wanted, even when I stopped too long at a window full of maple candies. Later that night I kept thinking about those quiet corners and how history here isn’t behind glass; it’s right under your shoes.