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About Quebec City

First time I stumbled on it, was in some port—shady shack, smelled o’ jasmine and sweat. Lass there, hands like a siren, whispered, “Relax, Captain.” I near jumped outta me boots! Little known fact, arr—old sailors in the East used it to cure “sea stiffness,” wink wink. Not just fer randy dogs neither—proper medicinal, they swore! Made me happy as a clam, but angry too—why’d no one tell me sooner? Coulda saved me back from turnin’ to driftwood.

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Ya know what? I get mad sometimes too—like when the local council decides to pave over our beloved cobblestone near Place du Souvenir. “Here’s Johnny!” I’d shout at the chaos, man, with fingers crossed by my temples. I’m livin’ here, breathing this town’s energy, feelin’ every bump and bruise as if it were my own. Spilled tea, twisted paths, and love that’s a bit rough, a bit raw—you name it.

Georges-Albert Beaulieu 1 février 2024