My brother likes to call me an Ostrich, and rightfully so sometimes. I don’t think I’ve listened to, or looked at the news in the past couple weeks. There’s not much I can do about the junk that qualifies as news anyway. The occasional worldly impacting stuff will find it’s way to me, if it’s really that important. Texas is that important and I find it hard to write about our adventures when so many people have lost their homes and livelihood. I can only hope that our Government continues to learn from past recovery/relief efforts and can help these people as quickly and as efficiently as possible. Our thoughts and prayers are with Texas.
We left Prince Edward Island the other day and I buried a piece of my heart there. I also buried a promise to myself that someday I would return to retrieve it. Before going to PEI, Laura and I had thought about what we would tell folks, when asked, “what was your favorite part of the trip?” We had both agreed that, while it has all been wonderful, nothing really stood out as a front runner. That was until PEI. For me personally, it hit me on the ferry ride over. There was a very subtle magic in the air and the closer we got to the island, the bigger my smile kept getting.
It’s as close as you can get to Ireland/Scotland, without crossing the Atlantic. A very Celtic nature about the people, their food and even their Canadian/Irish accents. The countryside farms made me want to change my occupation and the little city of Charlottetown, made me want to change my zip code. This is a blog, not a book, so let me keep it brief and just say that if you ever (and I mean ever), get an opportunity to come to PEI, please do.
We left yesterday morning, and finally started our trek West. It was a 9hr drive to Quebec City and as quickly as I wanted that long drive to end, I literally (and purposely) missed my exit off of PEI. I just couldn’t leave. But thankfully I married a very level headed woman all those years ago. “Tony, we need to go, she said sternly. We’ll come back, I promise”. Alright, let’s go 🙁
As soon as we crossed into Quebec, the English language ceased to exist. This entire territory of Quebec has an identity crisis. They are Canadian, but resent anything that isn’t French. Ooh la la! I think I just found a new city to help mend my broken heart. Old Quebec City, c’est magnifigue!
Again, in the interest of brevity, I recommend you read-up on this walled city yourself. It is incredible. Laura and I went into the Petit Champlain Quartier for a stroll, a little shopping and the fantastic dinner. Over a bottle of wine and the absolute greatest terrine of fios gras of my life, Laura and I made a promise to return within the next couple of years. This town has so much history and beauty to offer, that one night was just a tease.
Au revoir Quebec. Au revoir.
PHOTOS FROM PEI
PHOTOS FROM QUEBEC CITY
