Saint–Sauveur: Cradled in the Laurentians

From the city of Sacred Steeples we take the highway north towards Quebec’s Laurentians, a professed hippie haven. We could tell by the change in landscape that we were soon traversing foothills of Canada’s eastern range. It is summer and so we have the bluest of skies. Attractive country side: forests in green, while ski-runs marked the slopes.
Soon we drive into one of the prettiest of villages: Saint-Sauveur. She sits daintily, embraced by the Laurentides. European styled, (mostly French colonial) old character buildings, almost like toy houses; one wouldn’t be surprised to run into Hansel and Gretel! A picture perfect village, the best way to get around is to park your vehicle and stroll along footpaths that line the streets.
Now- we are standing in front of a stairway that leads to a pretty church. Somehow the moment is unforgettable: the crisp sunshine brings out the sky blue and our eyes look up to the stone chapel; the lovely bride and her groom and a host of family and friends crowd up the doorway…
I feel a cold ‘something’ on my hand, I look down to see a mighty great Dane nudging me for a head-rub. Now there are two of them! We are now a colorful gathering, all intent attention on the little church; Harley Babes, (their mean-gear parked not too far away) look up and get mushy too.
We continue down the street- a Tea House here, an Ice-Cream Parlor there; perceptibly a delightful selection of restaurants. We take pictures of a little house that is perpetually over dressed for Christmas! If you are crazy about wheels, you can eyeball a range of Hot machines showing off on narrow streets.
We walk through the doorway of the Ice cream parlor and soon exit holding old fashioned cones doubly filled with scoops of hand made delight. We sit out and watch the world go by..
Lazily we stroll down the main street past quaint inns while colorful hanging flower baskets adorn pretty doorways; past a Mohawk in traditional attire selling some priceless native ware: drawstring rabbit skin pouches, necklaced shell, a kangarookin shirt, deerskin leggings, ankle wrap moccasins.. a rolled up deerskin knack pack- the likes of which I last saw in ‘McKenna’s Gold’!
I love it here and I am told in winter it morphs into a swanky ski resort. What I find attractive is its proximity to Montreal: open, tolerant, artsy counter culture city engaged
to these quaint little towns on her periphery.
On our way back we take a picturesque detour past Lac-des-Seize-Iles. Take a rest stop at the charming jetty with little boats moored till each may be let loose to ferry its owner across blue lake waters to homes on little islands. This is something to be delirious about: that is if you own one of the swank island homes!
The surrounding foothills of the Laurentians have their own attractions. Scattered log cabins abound and some can be rented for a season. Summers are spent hiking, cycling, boating, fishing.. Walking along a path we come to pristine meadow and stop by an abandoned tepee; a little way beyond, the grassy banks dip into the bluest of lake waters.
What a picture…