The only thing I did in Québec was assemble my bike, lose my camera, have a poutine from the Chez Ashton, and head to the ferry that goes to Lévis. I broke out my madd French skillz at the ferry terminal while waiting in line; did a little parlaying with the locals. One woman overheard me and even offered that I could stay at their place just outside of Beaumont, or at least point me towards a good campsite. It was very generous, but I was looking forward to some camping at that point, and anyway I had a kind of awkward conversation with her where I may have led her to believe I understood more of what she was saying than I really did. But that doesn't change the fact that I got a French girl's phone number one the first day of my trip. That's probably a good sign.

Update: I probably should've taken her up on the offer, it was the only one I got from a French girl on the whole trip, and the campsite I ended up at that night blew. I got the site right in front of the washrooms and I had campers walking across my site all evening and then again in the morning.