Next day I go to check on the bike. While walking in to the garage, I pass a large, secure trash can with a biohazard symbol and a picture of a syringe. Downstairs, I meet the people who spend much of their time trying to fill said trash can.
I had one of those "oh great" moments when I see 3 extras from Train Spotting sitting on the ground beside my bike. One guy jumps up and tells me not to worry, that they're only admiring the bike and they'll be on their way soon enough. He points at one of his friends who by this stage has the rubber tube around his arm and says "don't mind him, he's f#cked up". Tube-guy looks up and laughs, "Yes, we're all f#cked up, but we're not touching your bike, we're just admiring it". By this stage, the conversation, for what it was, was in English.
I asked if the cops ever rousted them and they said no. The girl in the group mis-heard and panicked a bit, thinking I was a cop. The other guy who was walking around proceeded to tell me that he learned his first English from various rap songs and proceeded to quote various bits at me. There was something funny, sad, and surreal about the whole interaction.
I made sure the bike was secure before I wnt on my way. Before I left, I asked them if the garage security ever booted them out. Rubber-tube guy had pulled out his needle at this stage and said that no, the guards left them alone as long as they cleaned up after themselves.
I bade them goodnight and went back to the hotel, checking with Julie to see if I should be concerned. She seemed a little shocked and got on the phone with security to see what the hell was going on over there. I didn't think that the junkies were going to do anything, but having met enough of them in the past, I knew that there was an element of truth in "never trust a junkie".
And so to bed. Next morning meant a long, uphill walk to the old city, but hunger is a great motivator. There are so many great places to eat in this city. I found a bistro and ordered an omlette. I was a bit surprised when it came with side-orders of turnips, carrots, and spuds. No matter - I ate the lot.
I should point out now that I made a poor decision in dropping off my film to be devloped at the local Brooks/Riteaid pharmacy. They screwed up most of the prints, so I'll just post a few of the ones with the fewest blobs.
Artist's street market in the old part of the city.
Musket demo in Artillery Park
Boardwalk by Chateau Frontenac.
The rest of my time was pretty much spent eating, drinking, poking around, and drinking. Everyone was very friendly and although I tried to ask my questions in French, they nearly always answered in English. I guess they knew it'd be easier all around.
Watching "King of the Hill" was surreal. "Henry pis sa Gang" (Henry and his Gang) just doesn't have the same ring to it.
Coming home, I took RT 73 to RT 201 in Maine. By the way, I had checked frequently on the bike, and there were no problems.
In nth. Maine, a boy-racer in a Mazda decided to tail-gate through one of the towns. I let him pass at the first opportunity and then he tried to pass the car in front, somewhat ignoring the oncoming traffic, making him swerve suddenly back into lane, forcing the first car off the road. No damage done - there was a wide paved margin ... luckily enough.
The ride was hot and humid and 201 had construction in 5 or 6 places. I was more worried about the gathering clouds, and sure enough, I hit a storm. Visibility dropped to about 30 yds and branches were being blown down around me. As luck would have it, there was a scenic pull-off so I parked there and put on my rain-gear. I didn't hit the road again until the worst had passed and it was just a steady rain.
That was the worst part of the trip. All in all, it took me about 9 hours to get home. I wasn't tired and I credit a lot of that to the new DP seat.
I don't think I got the spirit of the place across in this report, but Quebec is well worth the trip.
at the reception desk told me I'd be lucky to find a place still open. Credit where credit's due, she called a bunch of places until she found one close by. Turned out it was a nice place, but I could have used the steak to resole my Alpinestars.
(low police presence)
Peter S 
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