Once upon a time in Canada - where the heck are we?

But we were away, on this train for 4 days, through several time zones, and beginning to discover and enjoy each other’s company as vast sceneries slipped by. You would expect, with a fairly strict routine of meal times, programmed train stops along the way, that such routines would allow for a good progression of memories of such a long journey, but that is not how I recall it. To begin with, starting out in the morning rather than late at night meant that we were passing what would have been the night time landscape in daylight and visa versa, also station stops were similarly challenged. That was not so bad for us that were not getting on or off, but for those that were, a nightmare of disrupted onward connections, especially if they tied in with pre-arranged hotel bookings. VIA tried to warn some about not organizing such arrangements tied to the published schedule, but just imagine trying deal with not knowing when a pre-booked train would arrive and so whether you would be sleeping on it or off it let alone what meals you would be having where, then mix in all this uncertainty happening very late at night right through to early morning. The following link will take you to an article that gives a decent idea of what some on our train faced and, by the way, note that this article was updated in August two years ago, so gives you a good idea how bad for how long this problem has been going on for. https://vancouversun.com/opinion/opinion-will-the-liberals-save-via-rail To add a further ingredient into this thick mix there are the seemingly ever changing time zones and consequentially shortened days. Again generally ok if you were staying on the train but very confusing if you were getting off in the middle of the night before you got to the boundary of the next time zone. Those of us staying on the train were told to put our clocks back BUT, for those getting off before that geographic time zone line, they had to not put their watches back, then we would sit with each other chatting from different time zones. Are you still with me? But the final game changer were the seemingly interminable and, to us, unpredictable stops in the middle of nowhere or some unscheduled way station, because we were at a passing place and had to wait for the arrival of and passing of a train, nearly always a vast freight train, coming from the other direction. These waits could be, or seem, very protracted, and played havoc with any attempt at timing let alone the published train schedule. Some of the scheduled stops were meant to be long enough to enable passengers to get off into the fresh air and stretch their legs on terra firma, but they were usually cut back in an attempt to reduce the accumulating delays. After all the current schedule is not based on what has been proved to work, but on an estimate on what the usual amount of delays will amount to. So the published schedule is a guesstimate in each and every detail. All that the passengers on the train, or at stations awaiting the train, can do is ask rail staff for a forecast and, just like any weather forecast, only an approximation of what they believe will happen given current knowledge and circumstance, which can and does change with almost predictable unpredictability. The upshot of this was that the scenery we went through, be it spectacular or ordinary, even mundane, became a backdrop to the way we entertained ourselves as this stop start experience unfolded.

The train was equipped with some domed observation cars which meant you sitting in a raised saloon able to look over the carriage roofs ahead and behind you, and with an enhanced view of the passing Canadian landscapes, settlements, towns and cities. Starting from Toronto the first things I noticed of the ‘wild’ Ontario was the vast numbers of large, small and sometimes enormous lakes scattered amongst vast swaths of trees and rocky hummocks. It was the sort of landscape that has long looked magic to me and I longed to get out and walk it. An impossible dream in terms of being on this train, but creating that sort of angst in my reactions. I noticed that many lakes had large areas of water lilies making them look almost country garden manicured and, when we occasionally stopped for the aforementioned reasons, small drifts of dragonflies flew around the train and lakes. This landscape went on and on and on, that is the thing about going across Canada as compared to the UK, the vastness of a place where landscapes are measured in the multiple hours, whole chunks of days, they repeat themselves in a mesmerising and, to British eyes, stunning ways. For me time was not spent in my little cabin, comfortable though it was, but up in the dome or down in the adjacent lounges chatting to Joan, Leland and others, like a couple from Texas and another from Georgia. We band of travellers seemed to share a common sense of fun, laughing, joking, talking seriously, exploring each other’s interests and, of course trying to make light of the chaos this journey was continuing to be, poking fun at the way it was turning out. The crew we had for the first half did their best to play their part in keeping us well looked after and the food was delicious. The crew for the second half seemed less light hearted, more focused on a battle plan for them surviving the rest of the journey. The middle night the driver apparently realised he had the chance to catch up a serious amount of time, and so went for it. The trains are old if well maintained, the track is robust as it needs to be to cope with the loads imposed by the massive freight trains, but that does not mean it is smooth, and this meant it gave rise to an interesting ride, needing us to keep hold of the seat, the bed, the corridor walls, whatever, as it rattled along. He was successful making up 4 hours on the delay. Of course this did mean that where we were at any particular time and how long to the next stop became even more of a loose approximation. We kind of knew where we had been but not where we were. Sadly we then encountered a whole new set of delays and ended up losing the four hours we had gained, plus losing a further two.

The interludes when we were parked up awaiting the inevitable freight train to arrive, let alone pass, led to all sorts of episodes where the inside world tried to move on while the outside one was like a stuck film. As the goods trains passed, and more curiosity about them grew, some took to the brain numbing sport of counting the container wagons as they thumped past. Scores mounted from the 120’s upwards into the 130’s and 140’s with some trying it, as I did a couple of times, finding that the metronomic effect of the sound, vibration and visual impact of the masses passing so close to you made it very difficult to maintain the count without wondering if you had missed one/some. I suppose there was some comfort in knowing these trains proved the economy was thriving, but the frequency of the stops for them dulled the positives. These freight trains are vast, 150 double stacked container wagons, enormous fuel tankers, and all driven by 5 powerful engines, two at the front, one in the middle and two at the back. Sometimes we were double stacked even though there seemed multiple tracks, us parked beside another freight train awaiting another from the other directions. On at least one occasion we had to wait while two of these trains went past, I tried to persuade my fellow inmates that it was just one train going round a loop. On another occasion we crawled forward so slowly for so long that there was not feel of movement by the train, so I tried to persuade them the train was stationary and the scenery was gently being pushed past to give us the illusion of travel. They sensibly would have none of it. There was one occasion when the debates got quite heavy, Leland and Joan discussing healthcare insurance in Canada and the USA, and I noticed a lady sitting down the end of the lounge area looking like she was trying to watch/listen to a video, or read an eBook, on her tablet. The thing was that the expression on her face told me that she was finding our noise aggravating. I have no idea if she did, though she later complimented Joan on her point of view. But the really striking thing about this woman, especially with that apparent frown, was that she looked disturbingly like a slightly younger and irritated Hilary Clinton. She sat with Joan, Leland and I as we had our last supper together, and yes I know another of my silly little remarks but these were unusual circumstances for all of us, that last full day on the train. She did manage to give us all a good laugh when she said she thought Joan and I were wife and husband. We had been told this would be our last chance to order wine with our meal so we did so and raised a glass to each other and the experiences this journey had given us. Mind you it was still slightly disquieting sitting across from Hilary Clinton, despite the fact that she was now smiling and wasn’t her. At this point we still had what was estimated at another 24 hours to go, another night on the train and most of the next day, so it was hardly the end of the journey but had a concluding feel to it.