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Some places cling to you long after you leave. The Historic Village of Val-Jalbert is one of those rare places—a village that feels alive, not just because of the charming buildings and breathtaking falls, but because of the stories and spirits that linger in the air.
We stayed overnight in one of the charming rooming houses right on Main Street, just across from the old general mercantile. Rented by the day or week—but not by the hour, as they cheekily note—our little room gave us a front-row seat to the village’s quiet magic after the day-trippers departed.
When the sun begins to set, and the shadows grow long, you can almost hear the echoes of laughter, whispers of old conversations, and the creak of wooden carts on the street.
A Village Built on Water and Wood
Val-Jalbert began as a company town, springing to life in the early 1900s thanks to the waterfall’s power, harnessed to produce paper pulp. It never quite made it to becoming a full-fledged paper mill, but during its heyday, the company paid workers generously and created an enviable standard of living.
Families lived here—complete, proud families who took care of each other and the town.
But in 1927, when the mill closed, the village effectively ceased to exist. Over the decades that followed, the buildings fell quiet. Yet, even in their stillness, they somehow retained a sense of presence.
Is it the spirit of those who lived and died here? The memory of the Indigenous peoples who walked these lands long before industry came? Or perhaps even the squatters who occupied these homes until the decision was made to preserve history?
Whatever it is, you feel it.
Pride That Runs Generations Deep
One of the most touching aspects of our visit was hearing the employees—many of whom are third- and even fourth-generation descendants of Val-Jalbert families—talk about their work. They speak of this place with pride that rolls off them like mist from the waterfall.
Karine Villeneuve was one such person. I learned that she had been there 20 years, while her mother was going on 40 years. Her great-great-grandfather had built a life here.
This isn’t just a job to them. It’s a legacy. They keep the stories alive not just for visitors, but for their own families—carrying on traditions, restoring buildings, and ensuring that what was built here is never forgotten.
Even today, new stories continue to unfold on these grounds—proposals, family reunions, quiet moments of reflection. The village still gives people a place to create memories.
Plans for the Future
As much as Val-Jalbert is about preservation, it’s also about progress. Plans are constantly in motion—buildings to be recreated, saved, or rehabilitated. Walking through the village feels a bit like walking through time that’s still being written.
Most visitors come for the stunning waterfalls along the Ouiatchouan River, which are reason enough to visit. But if you pause for just a little longer, you’ll uncover even more: the story of the “River with White Bubbles”, which powered this dream, and the white pine that shaped so much of Quebec’s early industries.
Don’t Miss These Details
Before you leave, take time to visit the kitchenette and try the tourtière, a delicious nod to Québecois tradition. And make sure to spend a few moments admiring the folk art of Léon Bouchard (1920–2012)—a local artist whose carvings in white pine and stone captured the character of the region. Over his lifetime, he created more than 300 works, each one a quiet tribute to the land and its people.
Final Thoughts
The Historic Village of Val-Jalbert is a living testament to resilience, pride, and the enduring spirit of a community.
If you’re looking for a destination that doesn’t just tell a story but invites you to feel it, to become part of it, this village is waiting for you. It has it all: history, stunning nature views, a tram, food, a living history museum, and so much more. You could feel the crisp air, see the morning mist hugging the treetops, and hear the soft rustle of the fjord awakening.
And if you’re lucky enough to spend the night? You just might hear those stories whisper to you on the wind – although it may be the groundhogs you hear.
