It's September and I need a roommate. I couldn't live in the dorms anymore. I was fed up of being paired with idiots. I was done sharing my kitchen and my bathroom with an entire floor. When I signed the lease for my apartment, I did it with the guy...
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It's March and after travelling to the frontier between the US and Mexican border, and talking with border patrol agents, we go to Quebec City in Canada, one of the only fortified city left in North America.
Already it seems like walls aren't always the answer to protect. In specific places at the border where there are walls, people are digging tunnels underneath them. In Quebec before the ramparts were a protected historic site, people used to just steal the stones from it, because the walls were useless.
The drastic contrast between the weather in the two places is kind of staggering. I guess it made sense to stay on the same continent in the beginning and to go to these two places at first, but when we arrive in the European looking city, it's like a slap in the face.
I've never seen that much snow. I've seen a lot of snow, but this is ridiculous. In some places, there is snow all the way up to the roof of the houses. And the roads are a nightmare. Forget about seeing the lines, and any roads that probably should have had more than one lane, are definitely only one lane now.
It's March, shouldn't' the snow start melting at this point?
There's a cute little skating rink at the Place D'Youville, right by the St John's gate with a pretty view of the city walls, so I convince Holt to go there, since it's not because we're working that we can't be romantic.
The problem with this plan is that at this specific spot, it feels like the cold superstorm in The Day After Tomorrow.
"Oh my god, what was I thinking, this is like the death vortex. This cold should be inhuman," I whine, feeling like the wind is slapping me in the face.
"My camera is dead. The battery is completely depleted. The cold has killed it," Holt announces. "How can there be so much wind? It wasn't that bad in other places?"
"It's a gate to Hell, it's the only plausible explication. Canadians traded it in exchange for a Prime Minister with good hair." I'm being a drama queen because I hadn't expected this terrible weather.
"Who kissed Crowley for that deal? I don't think it was a good deal."
"Well, they speak French here, maybe they didn't know what they were asking? The only thing that the French language has right is the fact that the literal translation to their word for moles is beauty spots, and I'm a thousand percent behind that."
Holt chuckles, his arms wrapped around himself to stay warm, "you obsessive cutie." I laugh too and bundle up closer to him. "Well, one thing's certain, if the zombie apocalypse ever happens, this is where I want to hide out. The cold alone would kill them And the wall surrounding the city and the steep hills all around will really help keeping the zombies away. And since this place was first build before cities had electricity, it would probably be easy manage without it."
"Should we put that in the documentary, as we turn into Frosty the Snowman?"
Holt laughs again, takes my glove covered hand and slips it in his coat pocket. I feel like I'm in a k-drama.
"Come on, let's get somewhere warmer," Holt says with a smile and then we start running, heading for a place to hide from the cold, slipping and giggling all the way.
