” She who takes a husband adopts his country “. My personal story is similar to this famous French saying. When I met Frédéric, his roots came with him. There is not a tiny spot of Isle-aux-Coudres that I don’t carry inside of me since we met in the 90’s. So much so that in 2015 we moved to the land of the Boudreault ancestors.

Our three children, Jules, Zéon and Félixe were born in Montréal. So we were not coming to the Isle as often as we’d like until we started looking for a place away from the city to spend our summers. Since Fred and I come from the music industry, buying an inn with a musical tradition in Isle-aux-Coudres was a most natural choice. What was originally a summer project quickly became impossible to leave. We’ve been living here full time for a year now, managing the inn, the bistro and performance hall where we invite our musician friends “from the city” to share the stage with our new local friends, all bearers of tradition and highly talented.  

Living in Isle-aux-Coudres is truly inspiring, if only to write new songs. This morning for example, I was jogging along the river and I noticed at least five belugas. Here, we call them “marsouins”, a gentle nickname that is also given to the Isle’s inhabitants.

The children adore their new life style, they enjoy the large spaces, swimming at the Mouillage and playing in the mud at low tide. In the Fall, we head for the Pointe du Bout d’En Bas where we catch leeches – sea cucumbers – with a pitchfork – before going smelt fishing as a family at the foot of the côte à Picoté (Picoté’s hill). On Sunday morning we go savouring Caroline Desbiens’ wonderful pancakes Tourniquette et the Hôtel du Capitaine.

A warning saying, “Beware, after 48 hours, this Isle creates a strong dependency” should be posted on the quay. “