LOST IN TRANSLATION.

Je me souviens.

After a week lost in translation in Montreal/Quebec City, I’ve learned quite a few things from my travels and encounters (okay, it wasn’t that impossible to get by with my limited/non-existent French and people were generally more willing to revert to English). I visited 4-5 years ago when I was considering McGill and Concordia for college, but was ultimately turned off by the blistering cold and fear of falling icicles.This time, surrounded by tourists instead of blankets of snow, both cities are just as charming as I remember, but with a completely different vibe.

My week was filled with: charming strolls along vieux Quebec streets, Mansard roof houses, flirtatious French-speaking men, antiques and old books, cocktails along the St. Laurent River, a new found love for Stella Artois, hoards of tourists, sidewalk cafes, roaming street musicians, buttery croissants, meat pies, caribou pâté and fine French fromages, mouthwatering Marché products, decent coffee, even more confusion over Eurotrashion, a mindblowing sense of direction, and a determination to master the French language.

Ici le temps s'arrête. C’est bon la vie!