Charny

I'd forgotten how hard it is to understand Quebecois French. We are on this evening somewhere in Quebec. Actually, I know where we are: Charny. We should be in Quebec City waiting for a bus to Charny, but hey, the airport transport person thought this would be better, so here we are. There is a bar by the railway station and it has WiFi and good draft beer, so who are we to complain. Across the street, people gather to eat ice cream and stare at a small fountain. The bar tender loves my iPad. Loves it! Friday evening in Charny.






This is safe adventuring. I like that. A bit of mystery but really, so little risk. I've said this before, when we are away from home, Ed turns more cautious, I gamble. Sure, Monsieur, if this is where you think we should be, let's go! But what do I know. He may have been asking something else altogether.

We're waiting to catch the train that passes through this place, on the way to the tip of the Gaspe peninsula. The light is so different here! It's a clear sky, but the color of the sky is not the same. Ed thinks I'm imagining it, but believe me, it is not the same.

A rather disjointed post, but celebratory too. Because we landed in Quebec City...





..and now we are heading north. In the new light of northeastern Canada.