I wish we could say we go to Québec City for its sense of history. Or that we go for the galleries and museums. Or even for the outdoor sports—skiing and skating in winter; rafting, canoeing, and climbing in fall, spring, and summer.

But the real reason we go to Québec City is because it's the quickest way to inject a little Europe into our lives. As fascinating as it is to retrace the 1759 battle during which the British wrested Québec from French rule (in a matter of 20 minutes); as sublime as the slopes of the nearby Laurentian Mountains are, we go to stroll along serpentine, cobblestone streets. To savor a steaming bowl of café au lait at a fireside table. To luxuriate in the sound of French tingling in our ears. Boston could add another dozen “authentic” brasseries to its surplus, and the vibe still would not come close. In Québec City, it's the real deal.

If you've been thinking of visiting, take it as a sign that, in June, Delta reintroduces a daily nonstop flight from Boston—that's Logan to Jean-Lesage in under an hour and a half. Given that 90 minutes is roughly the halfway mark for Martha's Vineyard weekenders (and not even that for those staying up-island), Québec City is closer to New Englanders than, well, much of New England. Take it as another sign that the coming months offer a huge array of festivals and activities—urban opera, Cirque du Soleil, music, dance, visual arts—many held to mark the 400th anniversary of the first European settlement in 1608.

Any time you're in Québec, actually, it's impossible not to encounter some pleasant spectacle. In the winter, it might be a chain-saw sculptor turning a block of ice into a castle in preparation for Carnaval. In warmer weather, it's likely to be a sidewalk artist or, in the evening, a fireworks display. As you turn corners and climb staircases, sweeping views of tiled, turreted, and gabled rooftops framed by the powerful St. Lawrence River take you by surprise. Tiny bistros beckon with Édith Piaf on the sound system and ice cider, a local specialty, chilling for a pre-dinner treat.

The only walled city in North America, Québec gains an air of cozy intimacy from its ramparts. It is divided into Lower Town and Upper Town, areas connected by steep streets, a funicular, and flights of steps (one is called the “Breakneck Staircase”). Old Québec—the part of the city within the walls of the ancient fortifications—is in Upper Town, as is the Quartier Petit- Champlain, home to many restaurants, galleries, and shops.

Occasionally, we've broken down and played the tourist: a cross-river ferry ride to the town of Lévis, a trip down the ice-covered toboggan run on the Terrasse Dufferin. The video at the Musée de la Civilisation, a film of talking heads illuminating the city's complex history, was actually a revelation. The Musée National des Beaux-Arts showcases Québec artists: From June through October, in honor of the quatercentenary, the museum is home to an unprecedented loan of more than 250 treasures from the Louvre.

If you're smart, though, you'll take some time to explore the areas outside the city walls. Once, on a long walk that took us under a highway overpass and past a shabby mall, we “discovered” Le Café du Clocher Penché in the once industrial, but increasingly gentrified, neighborhood of St.-Roch. Always crowded, this lively eatery offers traditional bistro dishes with a French-Canadian accent, showcasing local game, cheeses, and an ever-growing wine list. Across the street stands a restaurant many consider the hottest in town, L'Utopie. (Like some boîtes we've longed to patronize in Paris, it always happens to be closed when we visit.) Other foods to sample in St.-Roch are the sushi at Yuzu and any bread, pastry, or sandwich from an inviting bakery called Le Croquembouche. On our most recent trip, we stumbled upon La Barberie, a brewpub on a nearly vacant street (look for the keg outside the door). We had a “carousel” (eight 5-ounce glasses) of the pub's brews, while trying to catch snatches of conversation about politics, literature, and—naturellement—love.

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