Saturday, pt 3
One of the things I happen to love about the summer are street performers. They're basically some of the descendants of circus acrobats and ultimately jesters, and quite frankly, I really wish I could do what they do. Sure, I can juggle, but where I do basic three-ball, they do two-man 6-club. On unicycles. One of which is 6 feet tall. Yeah. What's more, the guys I saw were able to harness the crazy power of the diabolo, which is just crazy-cool.

"Fuck la mode" -- a t-shirt prominently displayed in an old Quebec window

Quebec City is rather quiet. Outside of the old city, there really wasn't much of anything, and everything seemed rather ghost townish. From what I've seen, the emphasis here when it comes to nightlife is less toward the subterranean bass pits that form the majority of the Montreal clubs, and more toward trattoria-style restaurant/bars. Essentially my kind of places. However, lacking the comrades to visit them with, I shall wait until my next visit here.

One other thing of note was the concert I noticed underneath an overpass. Seemed to be a benefit or an aid concert or something, but seemed to be very amateur. Didn't stay to watch, but I heard them still going as I headed for my room a few hours later.

Because my sandals cause me no end of discomfort sometimes, and this weekend is one of those times, by the end of the day today my feet were screaming at me. Toss in some shoulder pain from lugging around my bag all day, and I was ready to collapse just after sundown. So I am now in my hotel watching the hockey game (or at least the 3rd period) and quite ready to pass out as soon as it's over.
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  ¶ 9:15 p.m.