Quebec City

How can I forget Quebec? 


Snow in the streets, -20° Celsius, delicious poutine and good music. I can remember each moment - The Tribune Café, dirty english with french accent, the proud of be a quebecois. Tim Hortons in each corner, and the canadian landscape always white.
Frozen rivers, maple syrup and dreams... I may have it all in my moleskine, all the notes I took, every line I've written since the amazing time I spent there.

 Listening Un Canadien Errant or another french-canadian song during the winter carnival.


Months later I can remember all those moments as poetry. Lirism, a sweet and hot "double double" coffee.
My goal: write about each city I've been, trying to 'take out of my memory' details, moments and tastes. This is the right place to write it, as a record, a time machine with the power to bring all those scenes again.

Going back to Toronto, after an amazing road trip, I remember a friend saying: Goodbye Quebec, I'll never see you again. I asked: Why? We are too young. We are not going to die tomorrow!

She just said: But even if I return to this amazing city, I'll never be the same person. She was right. In fact, we are changing, evoluting. Tomorrow we'll never be the same as today - our lives change, our vision change.