Anne-Marie and I drove back from Montréal. At the gas stop, we queued behind a pick-up truck.
There was a dead cut up moose tucked in on the end and side of the truck. It had been hunted, killed and cut up the previous day, by two hunters.
Anne-Marie and I went out of the car and I took photos. The co-driver came out and started talking to us, smiling and proud.
Anne-Marie said that between seing the Chateau Frontenac and encountering the hunters and moose, I was closer to Canadian culture with the latter.
