Enter The Walrus...

Quebec City Travel Blog

 › entry 7 of 42 › view all entries

So, we have been in Quebec City Since Monday.

We got the bus from Montreal which cost us $76.76 return. We arrived at a rather grand looking bus station and grabbed a map to orientate ourselves ( the guide book didnt have a map in it). We decided to walk to the hostel instead of catching the bus, BIG mistake! the route was up hill and when I say up I mean UP! An almost vertical climb up winding pathways covered in half melted snow half killed me but somehow we got to the top and found our hostel, only to be told our room was on the top floor which involved two sets of stairs (someone hates me!). When we entered our room we switched the light on and found a strange and rather bedraggled woman (who I shall hereafter refer to as "The Walrus") laying in the top bunk of one of the beds. We apologised for switching the light on and turned it off, she looked rather the worse for wear so we assumed she was either hung over or ill (both of which we would rather not make worse). It turned out my bed was directly beneath this girls so we tiptoed round, sorting out our stuff and making the bed, all by torchlight. After we had been doing this for 20 mins she suddenly got out of bed and left the room so we took the chance to turn the light on. About 5 mins after, the door opened and instead of "The Walrus" coming back in as we expected in walked a girl that been at our last hostel in Montreal. We had seen her pretty much every lunch and dinner time for 6 days but hadnt spoken to her and here she was staying in our dorm after obviously catching the same bus as us only slightly later! STALKER!!!

We then went out again to try and find a supermarket to pick up the necessary items for lunches and dinner. We had been supplied with a map of old Quebec (the part inside the wall) by the hostel with ammenities already marked on it, including a supermarket that was pretty close so we thought we wouldnt have a problem finding it. How wrong we were! We spent the best part of half an hour scouring the streets and still couldnt find the damn thing. We ended up going into a tiny shop and just buying bread, milk & butter. We then went back to our room to try and work out a plan for the rest of the evening. "The Walrus" (it will explain itself in a bit) was cocooned in darkness again so we retreated to downstairs and looked through the many leaflets in the foyer. We decided to go to the museum the next day as it was free (that magic word!) and had an exhibition about dragons. We also found out that one of the pubs we had passed earlier, The St. Patrick, gave a 20% discount on food to HI members so we decided to have dinner there as we hadnt spent much that day and we deserved a treat. We went back up to the room to get our coats, as we were halfway out the door "The Walrus" suddenly sat up and asked where we were going. We said we were going to the pub for a meal and she replied "oh, thats nice". Now thats probably what most people would say but her voice was full of such envy and longing to be going too that it was actually very awkward leaving the room. We had only just arrived, she hadnt even introduced herself and yet was very obviously wanting us to invite her along. Sorry but computer says no.

Dinner wasnt too bad, though the "authentic Irish pub" turned out to be owned by the same people that owned the "authentic English pub" down the road. I had a bit of difficulty making myself understood to the French barmaid when I checked that the 20% off food offer was still valid, apparently I talk too fast and my accent is very difficult to understand (the pitfalls of being common I suppose). We, I say we but actually I mean Rachel, managed to converse enough to order food (I had the only veggie thing on the menu) and a beer each. After we finished eating the waitress came over and suddenly knew enough English to chat to us about jobs and her school work, oh and that service wasnt included in the bill. Smooth! We didnt want to go back to the hostel just yet as "The Walrus" might still be in bed so we stopped off at the "authentic English pub" for another beer.

We got back to the room about half ten and the room was again in darkness, our stalker was on her bed with her nightlight on and "The Walrus" was on her bed with her quilt over her face. We changed quietly, went to the bathroom down the hall to brush our teeth and then climbed into bed. Then it all went rather Pete Tong. About fifteen minutes after we had all switched our nightlights off, from the bunk above me came a loud and abrasive honking-snorting-choking sound, that I can only describe as a walrus dying (hence the description). It was so loud that Im sure the people in the rooms below us heard it! It was interspursed with vigarous movement which made the bed creak and groan rather badly, causing me to fear for my life as I thought the whole thing was going to crack and come toppling down and crush me. This went on for several hours, then the noise stopped, Bliss. We all heaved a sigh of relief and snuggled down to await slumber. Ah but tis not what the fates had in store for us. "The Walrus", now awake, heaved herself out of bed, stepping onto the side of my bed (two inches away from my face) in the process and lumbered out the room, letting it slam shut behind her. I said a silent prayer, asking that she be gone for the night and huddled against the wall just incase she wasnt. Turns out she wasnt, as another door slam confirmed when she stomped back in twenty minutes later. This fresh hell went on most of the night, with the last occasion being around 6am. I did get rather testy and let a loud "Twat" escape my lips after another of her lovely door slams followed her exit. Safe to say no one got much sleep that night, but we did bond with our stalker over our shared hell.

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Quebec City
photo by: peppertm