I'm so sorry we haven't posted a blog in a few days.  I hope our photos have filled the gap and told the continuing story of our exciting adventures in the Gaspesie.  I'd also like to present them as evidence for the level of exhaustion I feel at the end of the day, and ultimately my excuse for not being able to find the energy to compose something more compelling than simply, "we had an awesome day!"

Ever since we left Maria, we've been busy  seeing and doing as much as we can in each new area we land, before we move along to the next stop.  It feels like the pace of our trip has kicked it up a notch and I am going to need a vacation from our vacation (early warning, Rob ;) ).

While french is still a challenge, I have had a few rewarding exchanges in which I managed to keep up an entire conversation.  Admittedly, most of these involved ordering a coffee, but you got to start somewhere right?

All the french aside, we have both been exposed to so many new things and learned a so much other stuff on this trip too.  I've been bugging Row to help me write our Top 10 list of things we discovered in the Gaspesie, but all he comes up with is "I don't know" or worse, "nothing".  I am sympathetic because I also have a hard time remembering details. I'm pretty sure that as quickly as all those interesting this and thats entered my brain, they also escaped out the back, never to be recalled again.  (I think the same sort of thing happened at my french lessons too ;) )

Of course, the really important thing, the meaty bit that will follow us through our lives has nothing to do with learning facts about this or that.  Or even, as the quote on our photo page suggests, seeing sights here or there.  The most valuable thing we'll take from this trip is the overall experience of 'exploring, dreaming and discovering' a brand new place.  Together.  

Today we have a short drive back to Quebec City and we will settle in at our apartment in the University of Quebec residences.  The best part of the day will be going to the airport to pick up my Mom, who is joining us for the last 3 days of our trip.  Rowan has no idea and will be so surprised and excited!  Last night when we were talking to her on the phone he said "Grandma, can you come to Quebec?".  Ha!  What fun we are going to have...

Ok, here is the truth:  when we left Maria, both of us were feeling sad.  I even forgot our camera in the cabin so that I could realize it in a town about 1/2 hour away and we'd have to go all the way back to get it…

But when we drove out of the driveway for that one last time, something happened.  It was like a wave of excited, "we're on holidays!" came over us and onward we went.   While full of gratitude for the experiences we had and the people we met, both of us were ready to make the move north and see the rest of the Gaspesie.  As we drove along the beautiful coast, I decided on the title of our next blog post, "Maria who?"

Perce was a lot of fun.  It was busy and full of touristy kind of stuff.   Since we were coming from our quaint and quiet little life in Maria, this was welcome.  It was also cool to finally see the rock we pretended to hang off for our website home page.  I was sort of skeptical that it would impress me (feeling a little snobbish having been around the Rockies a fair bit lately), but it was actually really interesting.  It is a massive piece of limestone, loaded with fossils and kind of a funky shape plopped in the middle of the sea.   It was an ever present force everywhere we went: on a boat tour, exploring the mountains nearby and as we browsed the souvenir shops, looking for more boats for Row (he is now collecting them).  We had a great place to stay and lots to fill our days with.  I was becoming more and more convinced of the next blog title, "Maria who?"

Then we woke to a grey, rainy and much cooler day.  Normally I wouldn't care that much, but it was the day we were supposed to begin the camping part of our little adventure.  We were planning to stay in Forillon National Park, for 3 days.  In a tent.   All of a sudden we were no longer 'loving and leaving' ol' Maria!  We were back to missing her desperately!  Our next blog was now going to be titled, "Day 2 without Maria: suffering upon suffering".

Trying to make the best of the rain, we stopped to hunt for agates (apparently best spotted on a wet beach), visit a few art galleries and a museum.  As we got closer to the town Gaspe, I told Row to cross his fingers that Canadian Tire would have a tent we could buy.  He asked, "what would happen if they didn't have a tent?"  I said we'd have to rent a hotel room.  Guess what he crossed his fingers for?!  (And guess what I had my fingers crossed for?! )

With our new tent in tow (and neither of us feeling very lucky), our windshield wipers were working overtime when we decided to stop at a resto on the way before we set up camp.  We were both hungry and I needed a beer to take the edge off the rainy day and our anticipated cold, wet night.  Wouldn't you know, the place we stopped also happened to be an International Hostel!  Our luck was obviously turning around!

And so here I am, writing to you from the deck of the hostel on a cool, yet fresh night.  Listening to the ocean.  Drinking red wine.  Belly full of a spontaneous meal shared with a fun family from Montreal, new friends on our journey.  Hearing bursts of french and italian, in between laughter.  Row's tucked in bed in our dorm room, exhausted from having explored every square inch of the joint, in a rambunctious game of hide and seek.

I am feeling grateful for the warm, dry sleep coming my way.  And happy to have the opportunity to show Row that the only thing better than a good plan, is being open to adapting it.  We'll return the tent tomorrow and hunker down here for a few days.  Hope to snorkel with the phoques, see some whales and make some more new friends along the way.  No doubt we'll forget all of their names, but we will sure never forget the feeling of meeting them and sharing part of our adventure with them.   That'll be the unforgettable part.  Like Maria.

Dear Maria,

It is hard to believe we've only known each other for 2 weeks.  I feel we are so connected and I've already fallen in love with you.

When I read about you on the internet, you sounded very charming and I was pretty sure I was going to like you.  You had so much to offer and yet came across as being quite down to earth.  It sounded like we'd never get bored with you, that we'd always have something to do.  I also sensed you'd have a soft place to land.  A warm, inviting nook we could curl up in and relax.  And just be ourselves.  Recharge.  I was so excited to finally meet you in person and get to know you.

Maria, you totally undersold yourself.  You are all that I expected and so, so, so much more. 

Thank you for everything!  For our cute little cabin that became our home away from home.  For Barb and Sid and all their kindnesses and great stories.  For the sound of apples falling off the big tree just outside our front door and for the rain falling on our cabin's tin roof at night. 

Thank you so much for the opportunity to try and learn french.  For Noella, the best teacher I could have ever hoped for!  For her patience and for the fun she brought to everything we did together.  For her lovely way with Rowan, and for always thinking of playful ways to include him in my learning journey.  For Manjula for all she did to arrange such a wonderful program for us.  And for her whole family for our adventures together.  Especially for Keshani who was a great 'big sister' to Rowan and delightful companion during our last week of my french lessons. 

Thank you for your beaches.  For the warm water to wade, swim and even snorkel in.  For all the interesting things you brought in with your tide.  And for a place to float boats, build water channels and to just hang out and relax at.

For all the adventures and for all the memories, thank you Maria.  You will forever have a special place in our hearts.

Love,
Annette and Rowan (aka Gateaux a la Gaspe)

One of the things that I wanted to ensure was part of every 'Gateaux a la Gaspe'  day was a feeling of adventure.  I wanted to make sure we embraced every opportunity to experience this special place and hoped we would get to see and do things we hadn't seen or done before.  I imagined us saturating our senses with new sounds, tastes and smells.  And pushing our edges occasionally to give us that feeling of having accomplished (or 'conquered' for our slightly more adventure minded readers) something really cool.  I knew we'd make some incredible memories either way, but I was most looking forward to those splashes of surprise or unexpected, exciting moments when we both would feel fully alive and sitting on the edge of our seat.

So far, so good in the memory making department.  As I hope our photos are attesting, we've been enjoying a 3D, HD, totally unplugged (if you don't count our hard working Macbook), and very tasty tour of the Gaspesie.  And after last night, we can scratch 'sitting on the edge of our seat' adventure off our list too. But first, a little back story to build up some suspense (and fill the page a bit more, too).

Yesterday was my birthday.   My fete, en francais.  I woke up early enough to enjoy some quiet, morning yoga on the deck.  The sun warmed my practice and the dew on the grass shined brightly before it evaporated and moistened each breath of air I took in and out.  Sublime.  And that was before the hummingbird came and played in and around the basket of flowers hanging on the corner of the cabin, above my head!  Tres sublime.

Then I made a full pot of coffee to enjoy while I waited for Row to rise.  The night before we talked about his plan to make me crepes for breakfast.   We bought some that just needed to be warmed up in a pan, so he was pretty sure he could manage the job.  When the coffee dwindled and my tummy rumbled, I gently roused Row and reminded him of his big plan.  "Moooooom, I'm too tired to get out of bed.", he declared.  Ha!  Oh well, it is the thought that counts and the buttery goodness of warm crepes, stuffed with fresh blueberries, bananas and nectarines, melting in our mouths erased any care about who was supposed to make them.  It was only 8:30 and already an awesome day.

If you can believe it, things picked up from there!  First we met up with Noella to visit a friend of hers, Jako Boulanger, who is a very talented potter using clay from the Gaspe area in all of his creations.   While we drove out to his studio in the country, Noella helped me practice questions I could ask him in french.  For example, we learned that it was the provenance of the clay that determined the tone and intensity of the range of natural colours that resulted (I know that because upon hearing my clumsy question, he smiled and responded in English).  As I admired the smooth, delicate craftsmanship of all his pieces, Rowan bonded with Jako's Golden Retriever - it was a 'something for everyone' kind of tour.

Then we headed back to Noella's for a very special birthday lunch at her charming house, tucked into the Chic-Choc Mountains, right alongside the Petite Cascapedia River.   I was nearly overwhelmed by all the thoughtful details Noella spoiled me with including a huge, colourful banner, hand decorated by Rowan and Keshani.  It spelling out "Bonne Fete Maman".  And even an apres-diner treasure hunt, en francais of course, all around her house and property.  But since I just remembered that I left you hanging about our little evening adventure a few paragraphs ago, I'll let our photos tell the rest of the story of my tres lovely, 30something birthday celebration at chez Noella.  And I'll get back to the 'edge of our seat', juicy part…ahhh, a sunset kayak on a perfectly calm night (note the less than subtle foreshadowing).

We met up with Manjula's family (Manjula is the lovely woman who runs the immersion school in Maria) and a local kayak guide around 6ish to get geared up for our pleasant paddle down (or is it up, Mat?) the Cascapedia River until it spills into the Bay de Chaleur.  We timed it specifically to coincide with the sunset and we were all excited by how much the weather was cooperating: clear sky and still waters.  In a word: calm (again, less than subtle foreshadowing).

Once in the water, it seemed to get even nicer!  I was enjoying it so much I was hardly noticing the fact that I was getting soaked by Rowan's enthusiastic paddling (or perhaps more accurately, haphazardly flicking of water in surprising quantities in the direction of the person in the back of the kayak).  At one point Rowan even suggested that he'd like to "be in a kayak race one day".  Yes, spirits were high and we were pretty sure this was the best night ever. 

And then, we noticed the sky.  In the direction of the bay we could see the pink colours of the sun setting behind some stormy looking rain clouds, clearly already leaking a bit.  In the opposite direction, towards the river, the sky was a creamy, yellow colour - dusk light, concentrated.  Soon after, we saw flashes of light and heard the first crack of thunder.  Things were ramping up, in the dramatic department.

Our guide was excellent and immediately called us all to shore for safety.  Having been raised in more of a 'safety second' house, I was thinking she was sort of over reacting but, whatever, we were in no rush and if we had to enjoy the little light show from shore, instead of from our kayak, I was totally fine with it.

The 'little light show' quickly turned into a massive storm.  Our small group huddled together watching the storm hit the shore across from us, nervously anticipating what was going to come our way.  We shared a bag of coconut macaroons, one of the prizes from the treasure hunt earlier in the day, and bonded in the way you bond when you get to share weather with someone.   Rowan said all the things I wanted to say but didn't.  Things like: "Can we leave now?", "I'm scared!", "Are we going to be ok?", "When can we go?", and "Will we be here all night?"

About the time we realized we couldn't see the other side of the shore, the storm hit us hard.  It poured!  It felt like the sky literally opened up and dumped on us.  There was even hail!  It was quite something to know we were in the very thing we watched in awe, moments ago.  The storm, after the calm.

Twenty or so minutes later, our guide suggested that while we should wait for a 15 minute break in lightening strikes, we could get in our boats, stay close to shore and try to get further down towards where we started.  If it got bad again, we'd have to hop out and wait it out.

This is where the 50% of my Dad in me kicked in.  Rowan was pretty scared.  He was also very wet and very cold.  I was all of those things also, but knew they were not going to get us to the warmth of our cabin so instead I found the strength I needed to paddle our butts as hard and fast as I could back to the beach.  Rowan helped by not paddling and saying things like, "faster Mom" and "are we there yet?". 

We were much farther away from where we started than I expected. Obviously I had been to distracted earlier by the beauty of the night to realize how far we had paddled.  I noticed it in on the way back, mostly in my aching arms.  I ignored the lightening I could see striking in my peripheral vision and instead hunkered down hard, through the pouring rain and increasingly dark night.

When we finally made it, I got Row tucked away in the car with a warm blanket and pear.  Then I went back to store our gear as best I could.  Soon after the rest of our group arrived.  Everyone soaked but safe! 

Thank you to everyone who sent warm birthday wishes from afar.  They were much appreciated and happily received.  I had such an awesome day!

Tonight will be our last night in Maria before we pack up and start heading north to Perce.  It will be hard to say goodbye to our new friends and leave our little nest on the Bay.  Thankfully we are loaded with special memories and photos of our tres bonne et tres memorable stay.  And at least one good 'edge of our seat' adventure…so far. ;)

If you haven't already watched "Foux Da Fa Fa", the hilarious Flight of the Concord's video posted with other fun videos in 'videos en francais', watch it now before you continue reading the rest of this post.  (it is the first one on the page)

If you have seen it, read on and enjoy a hilarious Gateaux a la Gaspe 'Foux Da Fa Fa' moment…

Despite the fact that we are surrounded by the sea, Rowan insisted that we find a regular old swimming pool this afternoon.   If you checked out our newest batch of pictures, and noticed the one with an afternoon snack of chips and cheese, you'll appreciate the fact that I thought a few laps in the pool might do me some good. So, I agreed.

Since Maria is a very small village, we had to drive to Carlton (the neighbouring town) to find a pool.  Barb told us it is behind the grocery store, just off the main street.  "Pas de problem", I said.  I remember seeing it on our way through town.

(you know where this story is going, don't you?)

We drive into town, following the simple directions we had to find the pool.  Hmm, no pool.  We drive around a bit and sure enough, we can't find the pool.

(if you didn't before, I'm sure you know where this story is going now!)

I smile at Row and say, "hey, we get to ask where the swimming pool is en francais…just like in Foux Da Fa Fa!"  "Cool!", he says and we both start looking for our poor, unsuspecting victim in the grocery store parking lot.

This is what happened next, word for word:

Me: Ou est la piscine?

Cute guy in parking lot: uhhhh?

Me: Ou est la piscine?

Cute guy in parking lot: uhhhh?

Me: Ou est la piscine?

Cute guy in parking lot: Uhhh...do you mean, where is the swimming pool?

Ha!

Hope to write more soon.  We posted some new pictures from our very busy weekend and are just coming back from a children's theatre presentation.  There is SO much to do, but not enough time or, as I feel tonight, not enough energy sometimes either.  Bon nuit, mes amis.  Much love.

Yesterday, Noella and I ventured out of the classroom for our lesson.  She told me on our first day that she believes the best way to learn a language is through a combination of hearing, writing, speaking and doing.  Just like a kid in school, I was most looking forward to the doing, especially if it involved a field trip.

We walked down to a restaurant known for fresh seafood and authentic french baking.  It was still an hour or so before lunch, so we were able to get a table without a problem.  If you were just going by the level of lively conversations and laughter though, you'd have thought it was standing room only.  Fun place, obviously popular with locals too.

As we were sitting down, Noella mentioned that while this place is known for its great food and it's friendly staff, it is also known for its extremely slow service.  "Pas de probleme", I said, feeling both very pleased with my contextual recollection of some of my new french and also for the fact that I am on holidays and in no rush.  

Fifteen or so minutes later, the very french, beret wearing even, waiter comes to our table to collect our order.  Seeing that Noella and I had already discussed the fact that since we were going so early in the day we would be fine just ordering coffee, I clumsily ordered a coffee with milk.  I was expecting Noella to do the same but instead heard her ask about the daily specials.  Next thing I know, she and the waiter are wrapped up in an enthusiastic exchange about, what I could only understand bits and pieces of, the amazing this and amazing that.  Hands were flying, eyes were rolling and "oo la la's" were punctuation points.  At one point, they both looked at me for what I thought was a friendly gesture to include me in the conversation.  I smiled and nodded to agree with all the things they were saying, that I did not understand a word of.  When the waiter left the table, I had no idea what was actually ordered but decided that if anything came for me, I'd eat it.  If not, I'd make sure Row and I came back later in the day to try some of the food causing such a hoopla.  Pas de probleme.

Another twenty or so minutes go by and Noella and I are deep into one of our cheerful chats, en franglais.  Please note, this is a not to be confused with either francais or anglais.  It is more like a combination of the two.  Noella seems to insist on speaking french all the time and while I am slowly beginning to pick up what she is saying, I am still very shy about talking back in french (and by 'very shy' I mostly mean I still do not know how to speak en francais).  So instead,  I have been offering up some of my best English in return.  I do occasionally throw in a french word here or there because it makes Noella light up and say things like "bravo!", "tres bien", "c'est bon".  And if I make a mistake but still manage to come up with something in the ball park, I get to hear her say, "c'est cute".

I was not at all expecting what happened next, or more specifically, and slightly less dramatic, I was not at all expecting what was delivered to our table when our order arrived...a single piece of creamy sugar pie, positioned perfectly in between the two of us.  With one fork.

It looked so damn good.  The pastry was a flaky golden brown.  The creamy, sugary filling looked just like my Mom's butter tarts sans raisins and with a drizzle of buttery, sugary goodness glistening on and dripping off the side of the pie. Noella and I both admired the pie, her offering up some new french descriptive words, me saying things like, "holy smokes that looks good".  It was a fine slice of pie and I wondered who was going to enjoy it...

The time for which I would have normally dug into it, had I know for sure it was mine, passed (give or take 10 seconds) and the pie sat unclaimed.  I started to wonder if maybe it was for us to share?  It was placed directly in between the two of us.  But one fork?  I know the french are much more free with kissing strangers, but sharing a pie with one fork?  That would be ridiculous, non?

So then I thought it must be for Noella.  I was positive she ordered something during her animated exchange with the waiter  and this had to be it.  Yet, a few more minutes go by and Noella still doesn't make a move on the pie.  I begin to wonder if it is mine?  But why hasn't she gestured for me to eat it?  Up until this point, she's been enthusiastically encouraging me to try everything, why not the pie?  I wonder if maybe it is because french people finish their coffee first, before they dig in?  Ok, half a cup left.  Then the pie ownership will be clear and this can stop being awkward.  But what if I finish my coffee first?  Then what?  Do I assume it is mine and dig in?  I decide to drink my coffee slower to ensure she finishes her cup first, and can decide whose pie it is for both of us.  And if in the end we are meant to share the pie with one fork, I would not judge the incident and just enjoy. 

More time goes by and short of the occasional whiff of buttery goodness or flashes of light reflecting off the sparkling sugar pie , I forced myself not to pay any attention to it.  I was not going to let the damn pie ruin my lovely field trip with Noella.  Screw off pie.  I don't see you and I sure as hell will not eat you unless I know you are mine.  You are dead to me, pie.

I only have a slurp of coffee left and guess what happens?  Noella's full breakfast plate arrives: 2 poached eggs, toast and hash browns.  Ha!  Noella rejoices and gushes over the presentation and aroma of her plate.  She insists that I taste her hash browns because they are 'tres, tres bien".  She dives in to her meal, truly appreciating every bite.  There was no question, this breakfast plate was hers.  And that meant, the pie was mine after all.  Ha!  It just would have been rude to start eating it while we waited for Noella's food to arrive.  And she warned me about the slow service, so they were just late delivering her meal.  Everything seemed so clear.

We both ate.  I saved a few bites of my pie for Noella to enjoy (she used her own fork).  And we made plans to go back to the restaurant with Rowan for dinner on Saturday when they have live music.  We'll order the pie.

Things continue to go well for Gateaux a la Gaspe.  The weather has been a bit sketchy some days (some wind and rain), but for a couple of seasoned Albertans, we are managing just fine.  We've discovered black flies or I should say, the have discovered us and we have been debating which are worse: mosquitoes or black flies.  Results are inconclusive at this point in time.

Rowan also got to go on a field trip with his day camp.  They went to the Bioparc (kind of like a zoo with animals from the Gaspe) for a full day, via a school bus.  Just before I dropped him off I asked him if he'd like to take some activity books for the trip.  I knew it was going to be about 45min each way and I worried he might get bored since I know passing time on a school bus is best done by either talking too loud or talking when you shouldn't be.  Given that Rowan is not 'talking' at the day camp, this wasn't an option for him, so I offered some colouring books.  I was surprised when he declined the offer saying, "I don't need anything Mom.  I'll just look out the window because everything is new and interesting."   Cool.  I agree.

Rowan asked me this one our way home tonight and I flashed him a sympathetic smile through the rear-view mirror.  We are a few days into our immersion experience and while it is going very well for both of us, I think our brains are feeling a little fatigued from all the français.  Careful what you wish for, heh?! ;)

Thankfully we've found the pace of life in the Gaspesie to be a suitable antidote for our tired brains and we have not had any trouble finding interesting places to explore and hang out.  Our little cabin is the perfect base.  It is a short 5 minute drive from town and outfitted with everything we could ever need to hunker down.  Our hosts, Barb and Sid, are beyond lovely.   They ooze as much warmth as this place oozes charm.  And we feel as though they've adopted us as their own (interestingly, their own kids and grand kids are living in Alberta now so we are symbiotic surrogates).  The weather is warm, the nights long and absolutely zero mosquitoes - it really is a special place!

Our first morning out the door to my french lessons and Row's day camp was a little unnerving.  I tried to use the 'teaching moment' for the life lesson about sometimes having to do things that scare you, as one of those opportunities to learn something through teaching.  I was as scared as Row and needed to be challenged to find the courage to face my big scary french class as much as he needed to find the courage to face attending a small town, community day camp in another language.  I am so proud of Rowan for being so brave because deep down I knew he had it worse than me.

But wouldn't you know it, we both survived and even had fun.  His camp and my lesson are in the Community Pavilion, so we are close to each other, which is really nice.  The camp has about 15 local kids aged 5-10 and absolutely wonderful camp leaders.  While none of the children speak English, one of the camp leaders speaks enough to assure me that Row will be fine for the day.  Come to think of it, it might just be her smile, communicating in the universal language of love that does it, but either way, I know he is in very good hands.  I even caught him playing with some of the kids.  When I asked him how it is going in terms of playing in french, he said, "Mom, we don't actually talk!"  HA!  This on the heels of his observation that, 'they speak a different french than I learn at school".   Oh well, having fun is another thing that transcends language and as long as he is doing that, we are both happy.

Me, on the other hand, have more of a situation on my hands.  You see, I actually planned this whole holiday around me learning french.  And since I have private lessons, it is very difficult to blend in the background and hope the teacher doesn't notice me.  I've tried to downplay my expectations of actually learning anything to my teacher, but I think she pretended she didn't understand me. 

Despite the teacher/ student dynamic, which I have never been very good at, I absolutely adore my teacher, Noella.  She is officially retired but is very busy teaching french on a nearby reserve and to immersion students like me.  She has a fine arts background, has traveled lots and has deep roots in the Gaspesie.  Like Barb and Sid, she exudes much warmth and love.  I would be content receiving instruction (not to be confused with 'learning'), in any subject from her, as long as she spoke in her beautiful accent and she could find something to laugh her sweet laugh about.  Hearing her say "c'est cute", which she does often, is like hearing it in stereo.  For her, I am totally going to give this a good try.

An unexpected bonus of our french holiday is that Rowan and I are appreciating one another even more than we usually do.  Since we get to revert back to our comfortable mother tongues with each other, we are having some of the best conversations of our lives!  And everyday we are focused on finding adventures and having fun together.  Life is good for Gateaux a la Gaspe.

Thanks to everyone who wrote comments on our first blog and sent us emails.  Unfortunately, we do not have internet access at the cabin, so maintaining these updates is trickier than I thought.  I will try to post something every couple days though, so please keep us bookmarked.  We are looking forward to some pretty cool things in the next few days including a french cooking class, sea-kayaking, visiting a couple of awesome living history museums and fossil hunting at Miguasha National Park (a UNESCO World Heritage Site).  And of course a lot more beach time.  And, err, more french too.

"Bonjour. Err, je suis desole pour, err, uh, pour, uh, arriving so late'eh"

These are the words I cobbled together to greet a sweet looking older french man, as he fumbled to open the door to our B&B in his underwear.  It was late.  Past midnight and both he and I were tired.  His blank, confused even, stare was a bit disconcerting so I followed with "uh, la reservation?  Cakes?"

I should insert an early warning to any readers of this blog: the beautiful language that inspired this trip will not likely appear in any recognizable and certainly not grammatically correct way in this blog.  Read past all the spelling mistakes and insert missing accent symbols here and there.  Auto correct the errors with your big brains.  And please read with an exaggerated french accent because it is much funnier that way.

About the time it took you to read the above warning, is about the time it took for the sweet looking, freshly aroused out of a deep sleep, french man to say "are you sure?" (again, much funnier in a thick french accent).  If I'd known those words were coming, I would have enjoyed the awkward pause a lot more!

You see, these were not welcome words.  Row and I arrived in QC at 9pm.  By the time we had our luggage and car, it was just after 10pm.  If you've engaged your big brains, you've already done the math and realized that we must have had a 2 hour commute from the airport to the B&B…this is true.  The fact that it should actually have only taken 20 minutes is also true.

I'll spare you the details of what when on in those 2 hours (mostly to avoid worrying my Mom), but I will say that I spent the bulk of that time cursing myself for making many rookie mistakes.  Things like favouring the promise of a beautiful night view of Quebec City by booking our first night in Levis (the city across the river from Quebec City) instead of a more practical option like an airport hotel, especially since we arrived late at night.  Not having a proper map also came up.  Or the phone number to the B&B handy.  And not learning more french before we left was definitely a constant, nagging sore point. 

Thankfully, the sweet looking french man's wife came to the door shortly after and confirmed our reservation.  I dug deep to find the energy to carry in my 50lb sleeping kid and 100lb backpack and climb the creaky stairs to our cozy room.  I applied the 'for everything else there is visa' principle to accept any additional charges we might have had to replace the bright white pillow case Row's sweet sleeping and camo painted face was about to hit.  And before I let myself fall asleep, my heart filled with gratitude for arriving safe and sound and officially beginning our special holiday to Quebec.

Highlights from our first full day included pear and chocolate crepes for breakfast, wandering old Quebec City, and a beautiful highway (read: not stressful) drive to our first stopover in the Gaspesie.  Check out our pics in the photo gallery.  So excited to get on with day 2! 

To say we are grateful to my Mom and Dad for all they have done to support this trip, and us more broadly over the years, is the understatement of the year!  They are absolutely THE best parents and grandparents one could ever hope for and we would like to dedicate this trip in their honour. 

Thank you Mom and Dad (Gma and Gpa) for being such an incredible example of how to live a full, rich life in pursuit of  things that really matter.  Thank you for caring for and sometimes carrying us, day after day, year after year.   Thank you for grounding us with good values, strength of character and courage to find adventures that will test and ultimately help shape the  previous two mentions.   You are the reason I know good parenting to be one of the greatest gifts to give and receive. 

We are inspired by you and love you very much.  We promise to make the most of every moment and take good care of each other on this trip.  We wish we could take you with us but since that is not possible, we will do our best to keep you updated of our whereabouts and adventures via this blog.  Stay tuned…