The trip to Sainte-Foy, on the edge of the city of Quebec, took just under three hours and I spent the time in half-asleep mode. After all, it was quite early in the morning. And it’s a good job that I didn’t go to sleep (or is it?) because this bus apparently goes right out to Sept Iles, somewhere else where we’ve been before<\/a> and where I can catch a train to Labrador.<\/p>\n But when we reached our destination – Sainte Foy, not Sept Iles – a couple of mugs of coffee and a few rounds of toast and jam revived my spirits somewhat, although I’m not sure that you really need to say more than once that you don’t want butter on your toast.<\/p>\n And you all know that the wish that I have about my departure is to go suddenly while in the arms of a nubile nymphet a third of my age. Were I to be lucky enough to find a willing volunteer, the viagra would come in handy in those circumstances. But it would take them three days before they could put the lid on the coffin. We’ll see if we can identify it at a later date when I can access the record of the Port of Montreal … "he couldn’t" – ed<\/em>.<\/p>\n But on the subject of Pierre Laporte, the whole world is currently up in arms about what they perceive as brown-skinned terrorism, but never forget that Pierre Laporte, a leading Canadian politician, was kidnapped and brutally murdered in cold blood by white-skinned Catholic terrrorists during a major terrorism in Canada – and some of the perpetrators of the crise d’Octobre<\/em> were given a free passage to Cuba by the craven Canadian Government.<\/p>\n And not only that, some modern-day Quebec politician proposed to erect a plaque in their honour. Yes, and the Canadians complain about brown-skinned terrorists. You couldn’t make this up, could you? So feeling a bit more like it after the coffee, I did a pile of paperwork on the laptop and listened to some good music to pass the time. I’m in Traffic mode right now and I had a good listen to Sometimes I Feel So Uninspired<\/a> from the magnificent On The Road<\/a> album, because that’s just how I’m feeling right now. And if he can play a lead guitar solo like the last four minutes of that track when he’s feeling do uninspired, whatever could he do if he were to have some inspiration?![\"viagra](\"http:\/\/www.erichall.eu\/images\/1609\/1609031.jpg\")
<\/a>But what’s this all about? That chewing gum was disgusting – $2:00 for three slices and it tasted of nothing but rubber. As for the viagra however, I tried that once many years ago whilst in the company of the much – maligned Percy Penguin, who didn’t appear in these pages anything like as often as she deserved to back in those days. And I clearly didn’t swallow the viagra quickly enough – I had a stiff neck for a week. <\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n![\"ship](\"http:\/\/www.erichall.eu\/images\/1609\/1609030.jpg\")
<\/a>Coming over the Pont Pierre Laporte, which we’ve visited before<\/a>, there was a ship a-sailing … "a-dieseling, you mean" – ed<\/em> … by, up the river towards Montreal. It’s too far away to see what it is, but it’s the only likely candidate for today’s Ship of the Day and so we’ll include it in here.<\/p>\n
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<\/p>\n![\"orleans](\"http:\/\/www.erichall.eu\/images\/1609\/1609032.jpg\")
<\/a>But now the bus is in, and it’s two hours from Sainte-Foy to Riviere du Loup.<\/p>\n
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![\"holland](\"http:\/\/www.erichall.eu\/images\/1609\/1609033.jpg\")
<\/a>By the time I got to Phoe … errr … Riviere du Loup I wasn’t all that far behind where I wanted to be. But we were late and the connecting bus was already in so I had no chance to buy something to eat and drink. Luckily, I still had a packet of the vegan crisps that Alison had bought for me in Belgium and which had survived the voyage across the Atlantic. They didn’t survive the voyage down to Edmunston anyway.<\/p>\n