Day 4: Quebec, the home of the crepe Nazi

On the morning of day four, we were relieved to find the sun shining and that it was no longer 48 degrees. As we made our way to the old city, we realized that French and English do not share an equal playing field so Tech Walkin’ and Talkin’ and Casually kissing cowboys were at a disadvantage, not that we were complaining. We are fast learners anyway.
The old City was quaint and cute, with plenty of historical statues such as the one of Gandhi.
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And fun signs that showed us that Canada does have a sense of humor!



We then walked around in a giant circle, reflecting on what a European-like city it was. (so European in fact that Gringo Gaucho accidentally called the money Euros the next day). The old City is filled with amazing architecture, a chill vibe and a woman who sings only 3 songs in rotation using her opera singer voice. (we know because we passed her at least 5 times and she was singing Broken Hallelujah every time.)

We had three missions for the day.
1) eat a crepe
2) go to the beating of the retreat (more on that later)
3)go on a ghost tour to educate ourselves about the city.
Along the way, we encountered an enormous great Dane, an $8 smoothie which was so small it for into a coffee cup that you’d get in a bodega, and creepy mannequins.
First, we found a crepe spot that had lemon and sugar crepes, as well as banana and chocolate crêpes. It was also the home of an amazing lemonade and the crepe Nazi, who was bossy, corrected our French, and seemed to not like us.



It was also discovered that there are plenty of photo ops around the city four tourists who are writing blogs and posting pics about their road trip to Canada.




At half past five, we ran (literally) up 5 flights of stairs and up some serious hills in order to make it to the beating of the retreat. What is that, you ask. Well, it is the changing of the guard outside of the citadel. We finally made it with 10 mins to spare when we received some bad news. It didn’t start until July 1st. We were defeated for a moment but then decided to take a picture with the guard, which was slightly awkward. Then they surprised us by actually changing guards. It was clear that somebody had lied to us. (Fist of fury). It also became painfully clear to Suavest of the Seas that the gift shop was lackluster at best.



After eating an Italian dinner, we hustled back to the ghost tour location (which is in front of a catholic religion store strangely enough) only to find out that their credit card machine was out of order. We ran down more steps to the main head quarters of the company, only to discover that they were gone for the day (who has a ghost tour at 8 and closes down the main store at 8? Poor business plan in my opinion!) Then we ran back up the steps to an ATM, which there seems to be a very bad shortage of here in Quebec City, with no luck. At this point, we were in a panic but were informed that there was still hope because we could by something in the store and get cash back. After a very tedious process of buying water and postcards, we were finally able to join the tour.
On the tour, we learned about a hanging, an executioner forced to punish his wife, an American wrongly accused of espionage (they’re on to us!) and a sinking cruise ship in the Saint Lawrence river. Although the stories were not as disturbing as the ones we heard about in New Orleans, nor did it include a shadow of creepy Jesus outside of a church, we did get to experience creepiness inside of a church.
Setting the scene: it is dark out and we are standing outside of this church.


The tour guide unlocks the church door and ushers us inside. It is pitch black and smells like incense. The only light in the room is a single candle in a lantern that he is holding. We are instructed to sit in the pews. There is a long, unsettling silence. Then our host begins to tell us a story of a woman who walks the upper balcony. She was even spotted by Queen Elizabeth. There are two theories about this woman. The first is that she was a nun who had an illegitimate child, which she killed. The second was of a woman who suffered from narcolepsy during a cholera outbreak, and was buried alive. Both stories put us on edge. The host then tells us to take pictures of the church with the flash on and see what we could get on film. As Randi whispers “please don’t do that” the candle is blown out and we are immersed in total darkness. When it was time to go, we practically ran out of there, all agreeing that we don’t need proof of ghosts after all. Especially if they look like this mannequin that we found in a shop window.



Hasta mañana
Casually Kissing Cowboys.