… I’ll be back in miserable, dreary, depressing Europe again.

But let’s not dwell on the bad side of life. Let’s talk about today’s activities.

We only had about an hour or so to wait at Rivieère-du-Loup for our Orleans Express bus. And we all clambered aboard ready for the off. The driver was somewhat surly but that didn’t matter too much as I don’t remember very much about the journey.

I vaguely remember waking when we pulled into Sainte-Foy but I wasn’t awake for very long. And then I remember pulling into Longueuil for the students. That was where, I suppose, you might say that I awoke.

From there it was 10 minutes into the coach station at rue Berri.

I performed the usual trick of going for a relaxing ride on the porcelain horse and caught up with my sleep for about half an hour or so, and then to the cafe for breakfast and to deal with my notes of yesterday.

Round about 09:00 I headed off to my hotel.

As I expected, it’s the cat-house to end all cat houses, run by an oriental guy who was as inscrutable as his reputation. Very nice, very charming, but refused to budge on the 18:00 check-in time.

He allowed me to leave my things there, which was good of him, and I went for a walk.

First stop was the other side of the old Dalhousie railway station to take a few photos of it from a different angle than last time.

And then down to the docks. Oakglen had gone, but way down in the new port there were three ships. Far too far away to see what they are.

There was also another ship in the western quay but I’ll need to do some research into that.

It was a beautiful warm, sunny morning so I sat on a park bench and had another half-an-hour’s repose. Did me good too and I felt a little better after my sleep in the sun.

Into the old town afterwards to see the new Customs House, which is also the HQ of the Environmental Ministy – and here I was expecting a log hut roofed with turf. Not big on irony, these North Americans.

It also gave me an opportunity to take a couple more photos of things that I had missed on previous occasions.

In Subway for lunch (where they had run out of ice for the drinks machine) we had another delightful conversation –
Sandwich Artist – “what would you like on your vegetarian?”
Our Hero – “a bit of everything”
Sandwich Artist – “do you want spinach on that?”.

After lunch I wandered through Chinatown (for no particular reason) and the Complexe Desjardins (ditto) and up and down the rue St Catherine Est, dodging (and occasionally being caught in) the rainstorms.

The Hudsons Bay Company shop was disappointing. It’s all high-class perfume and clothes these days and they looked at me strangely when I asked which floor I needed to visit to trade my walrus skins and polar bear fur for a new kayak and some pemmican.

In the music shop I had a lovely half-hour playing a neat Ibanez five-string bass that I would love to bring home with me. But it was the only instrument in the shop without a price tag. And in the shop I heard the most delightful Franglais conversation that I have ever heard.

By now I’d pulled a muscle so I hobbled back to my hotel. 16:30 and my room still wasn’t ready, but he relented and had it done in half an hour.

And I slept for the following couple of hour, only interrupted by a couple of attacks of cramp.

A little later, I went out for food. A couple of years ago I’d been to the Cote-Vertu metro station and outside I had found an Indian café rather like what used to be (and probably still is) in Handsworth in Birmingham.

That was tonight’s destination, where I had quite a fiery vegetable biryani.

So now I’m settling down to sleep, totally exhausted. It’s been a hard day? And it will be an even harder one tomorrow.