Quebec City for St Jean Baptiste

I have no words... but I'll try for a few paragraphs to describe yesterday.

I haven't been feeling too well lately - my randomly over-sized tonsils decided to swell up to a preposterous size, making swallowing difficult. This kept me from going too overboard during the day's festivities. After a 3 hour train ride from good old MTL to Quebec, we took taxis to our hotel. No big deal, just Chateau Frontenac, a 5-star hotel where the United Nations charter was signed.

Chuck took us for a tour around the city after we wandered down a random boardwalk and ended up going up probably close to 500 stairs and happening upon the fields where the celebrations would take place that night.

This was the view from the boardwalk.

This was the view from our rooftop terrace at the hotel. No big deal.

I have no idea what this is, but I thought it was pretty... so...

A legitimate short bus. The only difference is that this was an "Eco-bus" or something. I thought I was hallucinating.

Sheridin, Eric and I experiencing the mobs of people. For those who have SpringFest at JMU to compare it to, here'e the equation for the comparison of the two:

Quebec City = SpringFest + an ENTIRE CITY + $3 beer + some of the most patriotic people I've ever seen + GOOD live music - cops in riot gear - tear gas - weird/young townies

In other words, the entire city was shaking (literally) with the shouts of patriotic Quebec citizens and visitors (like us) as well as the resounding music. Every step taken through the streets, before even entering the venue, was like walking through a mosh pit at a metal concert... except when people ran into you, you didn't want to punch them - you just wanted to hug them and buy them a beer.

This is the city street during the day...

... and at around 2AM, which was WAY before the festivities ended.

One of the guys in the program realized he had lost his backpack at 6:30AM, when he woke up on a park bench, shirtless, without any recollection of how he got there. What was in his backpack? Lots of beers, clothes, and oh no big deal... his passport. (at least THIS wasn't me, Mom!)