Go West Young (Wo)man- Train Diaries Part One

Hour 0- Toronto  

Holy cow, I am on the train. Which means this is actually happening. What.

Let me tell you, if you’re ever crazy enough to opt to travel by Via Rail for 74 hours, book yourself something called a lower berth (I mean, unless you actually have money, in which case by all means, book yourself a cabin). I’m sitting in this little cubby that’s all bed, with a heavy duty curtain on one side and a big window on the other. There’s a fluffy duvet and two pillows and some shelves for my bags. I’m sure I wouldn’t be nearly as enthused if I was claustrophobic, but as is, it feels like I’m in this warm, safe, cozy little shoebox hurtling across the country in the footsteps of all the adventurers and seekers of new lands and better futures who came before me. I have to say, I’m a fan.

We’ve started moving and everyone’s settling down, so I’m going to curl up in my duvet and listen to sad songs and stare out the window and the stars. I can’t wait to wake up somewhere I’ve never been before.

 

Hour 11- Land of the Silver Birch, Home of the Beaver

They stop serving breakfast at 8:30 and seeing as I haven’t been conscious much before 10:30 lately I was really paranoid that I would miss it. I also didn’t want to set an alarm in case the other occupants of this small rail car ecosystem were unappreciative, so I left my blind open with the hopes that I would be gently awoken by the rising sun.

As it were, I woke up in a wait-this-isn’t-my-bed panic at 7:50 to overcast skies making the Boreal forest look extra primordial. I ate breakfast with a grade one teacher who was heading home to Prince George and a pediatric dermatologist from Kingston who was on her way to visit family in Vancouver. Being on a long-haul train is sort of like being back at summer camp. A really skinny, tubular summer camp where everything is made of plastic and 85% of the campers are middle-aged couples or adults and their elderly mothers. Anyways, there’s no WiFi or cell reception, everyone’s really friendly and pretty much every conversation starts with “So where are you from?” and, contrary to my metaphor, then progresses to “And where are you headed?”.

After breakfast I installed myself in the glass dome car which is on the second level of the lounge/games room area. It’ll be pretty amazing up there once we get into the mountains, but even where we are is beautiful. I realized, this is the most remote I have ever been in my life, in fact, I have no idea where we are in any way more specific than “the wild”, and that’s pretty cool. The forest is glorious. The train runs really close to the water, and we’ve past all the lakes and marshes and peat bogs and skinny trees that I’ve read about. I spent some time reading (I’m working on This Side of Paradise) but more time than I thought possible just staring out the window. It sort of hit me more than ever before exactly what I’m doing, and it’s pretty special, crossing the whole country on the train. Feeling very lucky indeed.

Hour 14- Still Pretty Much Nowhere

I started feeling a little stir crazy and they were making the first calls for lunch (I got to the station a little late so I ended up with the last meal slot reservation, at 2 and at 9, so I’ve been hording the fruit they have around and dipping into my trail mix) so I decided to try out the shower.

The shower room is actually pretty decent, barely reminiscent of an airplane bathroom at all. I am used to showers being pretty stationary affairs, however, so there was a bit of banging into the walls. It may have been my imagination, but it sure looked like the drain opened right onto the track, I could just about see rail ties flickering by under my feet. Very adventurous, as showers go.

Hour 22- West of Hornpayne

Did you know that musicians can apply to travel on VIA Rail for free, providing that they agree to play two forty-five minute gigs a day? It’s a fun and really cheap way to tour and it makes for cheap entertainment. Long story short, I got to sit in the activities car and listen to a Lebanese-Canadian artist (whose name I will look up when I next have a chance) from Ottawa play acoustic guitar and sing about civil war and AIDs victims and old family photographs while we chugged along through the Canadian wilderness.

Dinner was great, the food definitely surpasses my expectations. Not overly surprising as my expectations were largely based off my dad’s egg salad fueled adventures crossing the country back in the day. I had quinoa salad for lunch and lentil quesadillas for dinner. Definitely looking forward to stopping in Winnipeg tomorrow, I want to go for a RUN.

Hour 37- Winnipeg

We crossed the border into Manitoba at about 5:30, and pulled into Winnipeg at about 8:30. I’m writing this on a bench in The Forks Heritage Park, looking out on to the Red River. It’s sunny and glorious out, so I spent some time rambling along the trails and down by the water, and checking out some of the wind sculptures and art installations they have tucked away all over the place.

Spotted: The 1999 Olympic Torch!

Also spotted: Five red foxes… weird right?

You are all going to make so much fun of me for all the pictures of baby ducks I took… yes, I am aware we have them at home. There’s a neat public market behind me where I’m about to head to grab a coffee before jumping back on the train, and I’ll post this as a Part One of my journey if there is indeed WiFi in the station as I was promised.

More Train Diaries to come when I arrive in Jasper tomorrow! Love and hugs y’all

Posted by Kelsea in Uncategorized