Capitale Beauport
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Travel Blogs from Quebec City
En route vers la Chine...
... la douane, lorsque l'agent vérifie notre passeport, le visa chinois et la carte d'entrée en Chine, j'ai l'impression qu'il prend encore une photo de nous, comme pour la comparer à celle sur le passeport, mais je n'en suis pas certaine.
Après avoir récupéré les bagages, un guide de Sinorama nous attend et nous indique le chemin pour nous rendre à l'autobus. Il s'appelle Romain, son prénom français, ou Bo en chinois. Il vient de Xi'an. Il est souriant et parle très bien ...
Or Do You Fancy a bit of French!
... and two girls who done the most amazing trapeze performance which at points made our stomachs turn. It was so good and the show was put on for free with the set being made up of scaffolds and metal containers set up under a motorway bridge. We're so glad we had the opportunity to go. We boarded the ferry to get back to Levi, during the crossing we were serenaded by a tipsy, elderly Quebecer and his accordin - good times. Next stop - Montreal. Shem ...
Quebec
... under one of the main highway like roads up to the hill with some amazing art murals painted below it. Ours beers arrived on a revolver-like lazy susan, and there were quite a few, some fantastic. We then swung by a pizza shop recommended and headed home. The next day Joe and I headed out and did some further exploring of historical city, starting with a pumpkin latte. We walked in to the massive castle like hotel on to of the hill. ...
Picnic table thieves, the Capital, and the french
... can't confirm though as it was pitch black). Finally I stuck my head out of the tent and said as diplomatically to the lovely people, "I am sorry if we took your picnic table but if you would like I can get up and help you move it back" (for the record I didn't think any of it was necessary but I would rather try the honey method as vinegar seldom works). Upon hearing this one of the females in the group let me know that they were .... almost done and I ...
Wochenende in Kleinfrankreich
... ich ihn nicht mit dem Koffer erschlage. Kurz darauf guckt ein Typ um die Ecke und beobachtet das Geschehen. Inzwischen puterrot im Gesicht komme ich auf dem Treppenabsatz an und der Typ labert mich auch Französisch an. So langsam fängt es an zu nerven, doch ich reiße mich zusammen und erkläre ihm lächelnd, dass ich leider kein Französisch kann. Der Typ stellt sich als Manager vor und erklärt mir alles mögliche über das Hostel und was ich so in Quebec machen und ...
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