Champlin à Hornfleur

I have only bee working in France for three weeks now, but the good things about being a teacher in this country are holidays. I already have 10 days off and I ended up hanging around near Hornfleur.

It was a sunny day that made everything look better in northern France, but it think I would have found Hornfleur beautiful under the rain too.



By some reason while strolling around Hornfleur I couldn't stop thinking about Québec. I know I am melancholic, but the wooden church, the architecture of the houses, and even the little port remind me of Québec city and la Nouvelle France. Hornfleur is a touristy town, and I'd say the way bars were arranged made me think about le vieux québec.

Then someone made me remark a sign under an archway in the port.



And so the link was made. Apparently Hornfleur is the big brother of Québec City, as it was from that town that Samuel de Champlin, French navigator and founder of the city of Québec departed. As i sited by the port I imagined the ships being charged with the goods that nowadays stand in le musée de la civilisation, and the sailors speaking with Quebecer accent -- old French.

I think for a moment, I felt like a Québecois moved by finding its ancestors.

Next Step

My time in Canada was Great. I enjoyed the downtown style of living, meeting neighbours and friends while food shopping, drinking beer on the roof, playing music in the bar round the corner. I met beautiful women and made lifelong friends, I lived great experiences and always had someone to shared them.

I rode a cannot on wild streams, walked over frozen lakes and rivers, saw wales and seals, swam in the cold ocean, got lost in a forest, hitch-hiked a desert road through the wild. I felt in love with the nature.

I would have loved to stay in Quebec a bit longer, but emigration policies are hard for a Spaniard in Canada. My heart is sad and missing the whole a lot. But I would rather think about what comes next, hoping the experience will be half as good as what I have lived, hoping to see again the beautiful people I met.

In a few weeks, I'll be teaching languages in the little French village of Bain de Bretagne.

Natural Borders in Krkonossky

As we go up to Krkonossky, the engine of our rented Skoda Fabia began to smell burned. Krkonossky is the mountain range with the highest peaks in the Czech Republic, but they are yet quiet low. But the mountains were as Czech as our car, which had some problems climbing them.

As we walked through the mountains I noticed lots of small paths and lots of huts and concrete shelters near those paths. Krkonossky separates the Czech Republic from Poland and Germany, being a Natural Border, that due to the altitude and cold weather in winter should be very difficult to control.




I have always though that borders is an artificial thing invented by the rich to keep on being rich, something that goes against common sense. I could imagine people trying to cross those borders in the winter and trying to hide from the soldiers in their shelters. I was relieved to see that in spite of the number of shelters, it should have been relatively easy to sneak into the neighbouring country through the nature.




I still don't like the army and people controlling borders, but for once, I though staying in a shelter staring and the depth of Krkonossky, might be a nice job.

Teplice Rock Town

It was early in the morning when we walked past the huge park site in the middle of nowere. We were walking from one vilage to the next, through some stone formations on the mountains. The whole parking lot was empty, the stalls closed, and the path empty. But when we got into the forest things were normal again.

After a while in the forest we found some rock formations in which a castle stood long ago. Apparently somebody had built a little wood castle in those the impressive rocks in the middle of the forest. I wonder how, but eventually the castle was conquered.



Our walk kept on going and going for hours and we kept on coming across new rocks formations. Each of them had an imaginative name, such as the cathedral, the maya, the indian, the panda bear... It was really hard to see any semblance between the name and the rock!



About seven hours after begining our trek we got to the second village, and a bit before that we began to encouter swarms of people. By the time we got to the car park of the second village it was full with buses, restaurants were full, pubs open, and souvenir stalls on full business. It seems that Czech wake up so early during weekdays than when they go on holidays they are just the other way round!

Locked in Loket

My Czech is limited to some basic survival words, but when I saw the name Loket I thought it sounded like the English Locked. Loket has a beautiful castle that is between what I thought were two rivers, but its actually only one. The village of Loket is Locked with the help of the bend of a river and a cliff, being the ideal place to build a fortress.




The locked Loket has impressive views to the river and to the forest by which it is surrounded, and it is possible to circumnavigate it with a canoe or a kayak. I suppose it used to be an important town, but now is quiet and sleepy. Being one of my first nights in the Czech Republic it helped me getting (more) used to the local schedule of the countryside. As sun sets the town is haunted by a drowsy fog, and not a soul can be seen in the streets. Loket becomes a place to relax, and dream about medieval past.

Plane Breakdown in Halifax

It was a sad day, but I had been getting used to the idea of taking the plane and coming back to Europe for a while. My good friend Stéphane took my to the airport, a bit late, but I knew that the plane would leave 6 hours late, as It was posted on the airport internet site. Nevertheless, I had been told by the company to be there to check in at the arranged time.

The planed didn't leave 6 hours late but 8 and one we were cruising the clouds the machine shook and a bit of smoke came out of one of the engines. The passenger sitting by the windows shouted "We lost a motor", and some people laughed half amused half afraid. Hal an hour later, our plane was landing in Halifax, we were told it would only be "brief routinely inspection". After three hours of waiting inside the plane we were taken out and told we would be relocated into a hotel as the inspection will take even longer.

Once on the terminal most of the people rushed to the counter where only 2 people took care of indicating everyone to which hotel they should go. It was already late at night and it took them about 3 hours to locate us all. Not wanting to push people on the queue I stayed for the end, and so did all the cool people. It was then when I made myself some friends.





As we were the last ones, all the normal hotels were taken by the rest of the passengers and we were sent to the luxury one. By the time we got to the hotel it was breakfast time, and so expensive it was, our food voucher would not cover even the cheapest breakfast. As I had never check into the hotel myself and I knew there would be nothing they could do, I order the full breakfast and never paid for it. There is nothing bad with doing that in luxury hotels... It was, by the way, the Westling Halifax.

As the airline never payed for a second night, the hotel kicked us all at 12.00, with just enough time to have a nap after breakfast. Many people went to complain nowhere (we were left stranded in the hotel). As Nova Scotia was a province I had wanted to visit, and my new friends were up for it, we went for a nice walk around the city. For most passengers they say at the hotel was horrible, for me was a nice chance to discover Halifax and its port.




Finally, we were taken to the airport where a new plane arrived 3 hours late. When it did, it was full with people that were very angry, as they had been diverted from their route. Never did the company informed us of what was going on, but it didn't really matter because by the end, we were singing and playing guitar and flute in the middle of the airport. We composed beautiful songs to criticise Corsairfly, our company and whom you should never fly too. I had never seen so bad service and for most of the passenger the trip was two days of hell... but for me it was good fun and a chance to discover Halifax.

Memoires et Racines

I was terribly happy to spend the my last few days in Quebec with great friends. I am glad that somehow my departure gave me enough time to spend with all the people I like, hoping goodbyes turn out to be see you later.



Memoires et Racines is a trad music festival with good music, and better people. Quebec trad music is a small world and most of my musician friends were there. I also bumped into some people I knew from all over the province, from Montreal and beyond. Human relations were great in Memoires et Racines, and I suspect the fact that we all were camping together had something to do. Contrary to other festival, the camping site was beautiful, among a forest and with a beautiful river in which to swim.




The music shows were not bad, but they weren't great neither. The positive aspect is that artists were always accessible, always up to exchange some advice. Most of the people attending to the festival were musicians and trad sessions sprouted around the campsite as wild flowers. With lots of sessions going on around the campsite, who wants to go into the festival itself?

Memoires et Racines was not only a great place to have fun and be with great people, it was also the perfect blend for my last weekend in Quebec: Music, community and nature.