Quebec City

High up on a big hill, I watch a wide river sparkle in the sun. If you walk with me, your feet will go tap-tap-tap on my bumpy stone streets. My buildings have pointy red and green roofs that look like party hats. All around me, strong stone walls wrap me up like a big, cozy hug to keep me safe. I am a very old and special place. I am Quebec City.

My story began a long, long time ago. A friendly man named Samuel de Champlain sailed across a big ocean from a country called France. On a warm summer day, July 3rd, 1608, he found my sunny hill and thought it was the perfect spot to build a new home. At first, I was just a small fort made of wood. But more and more friends came to live here. To keep everyone safe, they started building my strong stone walls in the 1600s. The walls grew tall, stone by stone, like you stack your blocks. Everyone who lived here spoke French, and their happy voices filled my streets with music.

Today, I am still standing tall, and I love it when new friends come to play with me. You can walk right on top of my big stone walls and pretend you are looking out for dragons. You can listen to the clip-clop sound of horses pulling carriages down my streets. In the winter, we have a giant party with snow and ice castles called the Winter Carnival. I am a happy place where old stories and new adventures meet. I hope you will come and explore with me someday.