"Do you like the Papa Roach?"

We went to have lunch at Chute Montmorency, a waterfall on the outskirts of Québec that's supposed to be even higher than Niagra Falls. Getting there involved an hour-long bus ride through the suburbs. On arrival, I was a little underwhelmed…I guess I was expecting more water. You can almost see my disappointment. However, on seeing that you could get up real close to the falls, I got up as close as I could. Too close. Way too close. I was surprised at the amount of spray…it looks misty from above, but down below it's like being in a bad rain storm. Still, it was exhilarating. On the way back uphill, I had a close encounter with a local.

Afterwards, we went to a local mall, Place Laurier, which is supposed to be the largest mall in Eastern Canada. Oddly, it closes at 5:30pm, and we arrived at 4:45pm, so we really didn't see much of it. On the bus, I had my first kinda real French conversation, with a couple skater teens. They seemed impressed when I told them that I live a couple miles from Papa Roach's hometown.

We went back to wandering through Vieux-Québec after a brief rest at the hotel. It was overcast today, but the city is still beautiful, and the horses are still…horses. Yeah. The old city really starts to wake up in the early evening, as festival workers close off streets to cars, allowing throngs of pedestrians to walk unhindered through the streets. Street musicians appear in the most unlikely places, in this case, in the entrance of a bookstore. I finally tried gelato for the first time, (pistachio…mmm), and was a little surprised when the girl at the counter greeted me in English. I have no idea how she could pick me out as an English-speaking tourist—I didn't speak English in the shop, have no English words on my clothes (other than the ubiquitous "Nike Air" on my shoes), and even spoke in French. A little alarmed, my brother and I tried our best to look like locals.

Speaking of locals, we saw an odd-looking group in a procession drawing a crowd. They seemed a little out there, but they were friendly in a non-speaking, non-smiling, blue-skinned sort of way (I just know that picture is gonna haunt me one day). Really friendly.

We returned to the hotel, where my mom started finishing up on the talk she's giving tomorrow. My brother and I were gonna go hang out together, but he had trouble getting up from the oh-so-comfy hotel bed, so I went solo.

I swung by the highly-hyped concert of the evening, Ariane Moffat, a Canadian pop-rock artist. I stayed for all of 30 seconds before swinging by Scéne Bell, where Wyclef Jean rocked the house last night with an estimated 50,000 fans (including yours truly). Tonight, it was "Helmut Lotti and Friends." Mr. Lotti is some sort of classical singer who does elaborate covers of classic love songs as well. I was getting good vibes as he finished off "Battle Hymn of the Republic" while I approached the show, but then he launched into an operatic rendition of "You've Lost that Loving Feelin'," and I started getting queasy. Looking around, I noticed a stark difference in the audience from yesterday's show. Whereas yesterday's show was a bunch of twenty-somethings standing for a two-hour set, tonight the median age was a good 30 years higher, and everyone brought lawn chairs.

I was about to make my exit when Mr. Lotti invited (I kid you not) the Red Army Choir on stage. Yes, that's the same Red Army Choir on the soundtrack for Hunt for Red October. I could almost stand Mr. Lotti singing the official hymn of the Russian navy since he had the Red Army Choir singing back-ups. Then they did what I'm presuming were Russian drinking songs, and a French ballad for the home crowd, before launching into a stirring rendition of the Russian national anthem. Mr. Lotti then broke for a 25 minute break, and I left, not really intending to come back.

I wandered for a bit, taking a picture of one of the city gates before the sound of jazzy saxophones floated in my direction. I followed the music, accompanied by a crowd of others in a modern Pied Piper procession. The musicians stopped, and I got my first look at them: a quartet of sax players (yeah, I missed one). They put on an incredible show in the street, serenading people at cafés, and doing funny sketches that used the saxes for sound effects. Then they broke in to James Brown's "I Feel Good," and much dancing ensued (yours truly and his two left feet uninvolved, of course). It was a nice finish to a day where I didn't expect to do much of anything.