Following the previous article, he lacked a cons-section, one that would change the situation; reverse the trends show the evolution of the confusion that prevailed earlier in the week. Ultimately, one year in Quebec, as a year in France of ups and downs. The only difference is that being away from what we know, everything takes on huge proportions. So, small joys, who remotivent a bit. First there is an expectation, that weekend, which looks beautiful. Sun in Quebec. But more importantly, the sun on Tadoussac, the destination that awaits us tomorrow, Saturday morning, until Sunday evening. We enjoy the last sunny days before the cold and the complete fall leaves to go visit the whales in the North. Breath of fresh air then, with four friends. Tomorrow we'll have a car, and we road the wind that passes with the windows open, and pulls the songs arigot!
Other key colors, this time arriving by post and Mail Canada: French package. Packages that I have been waiting six days, because my mother told me about. These are a few pounds French food, or at least of things you can buy in France: seeds mediterranneans, foie gras, Gruyere cheese grated (that, for once, it's fucking good!), Nestle chocolate, banana . My sweet little mom was even allowed to add a background packet crozets (Savoy pasta) and a scarf that I had not taken the time to leave. My larder filled, I put the famous scarf around my neck and breathe: she has traveled, that one, and she was still in France a week earlier. I dare not touch the food is so beautiful as well. He will enjoy!
Last night, Francis, whom I met in Quebec, took me to see a play by Michel Tremblay, "Hello there, hello." My first piece of Quebec, and slang, please! The story of a Quebecois who returned from Europe, and finds his funny family. Exile, return, hey, it's like a setting in abyss ... And all this, especially in a few months. Anyway! Then we eat together with Francis, the club, dancing bar-restaurant-trendy in the St. Roch. We speak at length, and I realize that after a time, oh joy, surprise, malheeeeeeur oh, I'm focus! The [year] become [in] the [a] [o], and the simplest expressions take their place in my speech. I troll on syllables, I accelerate on other ... And that's funny! I've been here a month and a half, and diphthongization are more naturally. Needless to say, I also now understand the Quebecois, "Auntie" and other trifles of c'te up there! 
This afternoon, the university organized for foreign students, apple picking on the Ile d'Orleans. This island is located downstream of the St. Lawrence River, a few kilometers Quebec actually (not far at all so as you can see the southern tip of the island of Old Quebec!). I embarked on this little island shipping. The Isle of Orleans is famous for its orchards, cider ice and apple butter, all go away! In retrospect, I can say that I was watching his orchards, my time is allotted two hours. Which is very short to get out and explore the island, but allows time to venture between the apple trees, making his collection slowly, while in some crisp apples. So after two hours, and 3 different varieties in the stomach, I take the bus with my 4 pounds apple.
My last two days of joy: I found my topic for the course of media culture! And that is not nothing. William P. we moved to the end of session to lead a seminar and make a folder on a specific topic: the newspaper between 1860 and 1930. Knowing absolutely nothing there, I float past month, passionately listening courses, but do not contribute at all. And then an idea lights me; I run on the computer, going on Gallica, and type "The Cross". Yes, that's right, the French Catholic newspaper, which dates from 1883. And, I thought in my head, why not try a study combining literature, media culture and religious culture in the first year of publication of The Cross?? I propose in the next few days the subject to William, but already my mind is full of ideas and questions. Come on, we left image of the first issue, oh so evocative! 
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