I couldn’t pinpoint with exactitude the day where my honorable mother, the White Owl, told me that she’d like to see the Pacific Ocean, but I quite remember that her next question was if we could go there by train. You see, my mother, and I know that she’s not unique in that, does not relish plane travel as much as she could. While in a plane, she feels like she’s trapped inside a giant metal death machine susceptible to explode or burst into flames at any moment, at the same time being 10000 feet up in the air, and only not falling because of physics, which seems to her to be a pretty thin excuse.
“There is a train, isn’t it? She asked. A train like the Orient Express of the Trans Siberian? I’ve always dreamed of taking a train like that!”
As I wanted to see more of Canada, especially the West that I never had the occasion of visiting, and as I like both trains and oceans, I decided to make this dream of hers come true for her 70th birthday.
Introducing my dear Mama, the White Owl
It took lots of planning. Indeed, the White Owl, while very adventurous in spirit, is always so nervous and panics so very easily when in action, that for my travels with her, my motto is “Too much prepared is not prepared enough” and I have basically an hour by hour schedule and itinerary, with at least 30 contingency plans for every possible emergency.
I take planning very seriously
I don’t mind at all. I love planning for travels so much that I would almost do it for my friends, if they’d let me, and if I was sure our friendship could survive the ordeal of seeing me transforming in a sort of loving sergeant-major-slash-talking-clock.
Maybe a bit too seriously….
Anyway I planned and organized and arranged for hours, getting the White Owl’s seal of approval on everything, until I had everything scheduled and printed and booked, and we were ready to go.
That’s how around mid-June, the White Owl landed in Montreal, shocked and traumatized as usual when she flies from France. I gave her one week to get over the jet lag, another week for last minute preparations, and at last we were fully packed and ready to go on our Canadian adventure.
The very start was not very auspicious. I forgot my phone at home so I had to run back and fetch it, and it rained on us while going to the subway station, but we got in time in our train. No, not the train, just a train, because to take the train, we had to take a train.
Not very clear, am I? Losing you in technicalities maybe? Sorry about that!
We went from Montreal to Toronto in a normal, Viarail train, because the Canadian (that’s the name of the train, like Orient Express, just more precise in its appellation) starts in Toronto and ends in Vancouver.
My first blurry high-speed picture of the trip… Definitely not the last!
The Canadian was late. And from what I quickly understood, it is a perfectly normal occurrence. Now, if it had been on time, that would have been weird. You see, the Canadian travels straight through this huge country using freight trains rails, and because there are only one Canadian every two days, and lots more of freight trains, those pesky freight trains have priority on the Canadian. Think of the Canadian as a gentle, dreamy tourist in the busy streets of Manhattan, while freight trains are serious businessmen going through those same streets while knocking people about. Now I hope this metaphor won’t give you a wrong idea on the number of trains going about in the middle of Canada…
What I wanted to say, before rudely interrupting myself, was that the Canadian stops very often to let incredibly long freight trains go by.
In this case, we were supposed to leave at 10pm, but we didn’t get into the train before 1am or thereabouts.
We waited in a big lounge, looking at people around us and wondering if they were going to be our companions for the next 4 days. I explored the Toronto railway station in search of food – which is not an easy task, this station being seemingly rebuilt from the ground up this past 4 years, and consequently always under construction – and found a grilled cheese, some pineapple, and cookies.
There was a difficulty when I brought back my loot to the White Owl, due to the fact that there were 2 of us, and 5 cookies. We debated dueling to death for the 5th, but my honorable ancestor argued that it would be cruel to crush her at her stage of life, and we just shared it.
Blurry, high speed view of Lake Ontario
We were very tired when the train arrived, and we were at last able to go to our cabin. I guess that’s why I completely forgot to check in our luggage, which made our original efforts to put everything we needed for the train in a separate suitcase unnecessary, and encumbered us for the next four days, which, given the reduced size of the cabin, was quite annoying.
So, dear reader, here is my advice to you: it is a very good idea to do as we did, and pack everything in a suitcase for the four days. It can be a light suitcase, you won’t need that many things, and the cabin is so small that you’ll be happy to have the extra space. Now, once you’ve done that, don’t be a numbnuts like I was! Check in you other luggage if you have any!