I didn't want any access to the outside world during this trip, but I figured a blog post typedBon my iPod touch while sitting in the Quebec City hostel wold be kind of fun. I'm absolutely exhausted and my sit bones are beyond sore. B and I are convince that we must have black and blues on our bottoms - the pain is so bad.
We left Montreal on Monday and have enjoyed a beautiful three days biking, eating, and voyaging. We have had only a few problems with wind and the route but other than that the weather has been just magnificent. The scenery is beyond belief; B and I joked today that it's Luke biking on Route 47 but never leaving Hadley. The land stays flat and is replete with picturesque farms, humongous skies, and....... French!
While taking a respite with banana and peanut butter this morning on the edge of an empty corn field, another biker stopped and began chatting with me in his twangy Quebecois French. After discussing the landscape, our route, the weather, and what we were eating, I - feeling awkward and fully aware of my lack of talent in carrying on chatty conversations in French that aren't bout myself, loaded with questions, or about something we had already covered - went for the first route and Tod him we were Americans, specifically that we were from Masachusetts. He told me he was surprised; he had assumed I was French because of my accent. That about made my day, but in case I wasn't feeling proud of myself enough--after we entered Quebec, we headed to the Tourist Information Center in order to better figure out our route for exiting the city tomorrow morning. After conveniently being asked to wait in the line for the cutest of them all, I aske him
- in English, as I felt I wouldn't be pinned as an ugly American considering I was in a tourist office, didn't have a backpack on, wasn't overweight, and wasn't taking loudly - and when we began discussing the route, I used the Fench pronunciation for the place names. He told me I had a good accent and so I told him that I spoke Frnch and because my mind ahd already gone to the Fench side, I began speaking in Frnch. He asked why I hadn't started speaking Fench with him earlier since it was easier for him. I got everything set for Thursday's route (which may or may no be in the rain) and he told me, "Ton accent est jaw-dropping." I didn't understand the English word throw in amongst the French at first, but once I got it my face turned redder than my sunglasses burn and j thanked him profusely, now even more sue that they were only impresed with my accent because the Quebecois accent appears to be the French equivalent of sloppy, often unpleasant-sounding Texan English.
B and I are going to had out to dinner. We had absolutely magnificent crepes at around 5:45 so dinner is happening quite late tonight. Encouraged by our British Columbia-native roommates, we may have a glass of wine in the hostel bar after dinner. We pray that it doesn't rain tomorrow as we attempt to ride the 76+ miles to Trois-Rivieres. Friday wil be our last and hardest day - 90+miles from Trois-Rivieres to Montreal. Allez-y!!!!
