Romancing the Rails: Toronto to Jasper

So far I’ve learned how to pull my bed down and pop it back up; how to not let the heavy doors between train cars slam shut on the person behind me; how to jaunt down the narrow hallways bouncing off the walls for balance; and how not to fall off the toilet.

Initially, newbies to the train experience are aghast at the sleeping arrangements, which are the size of a small prison cell. Regardless, no one sleeps much the first night due to the screechy noises and jerky motion of the train, so earplugs are highly recommended. Be assured, however, each roomette has everything you need: toilets, bed, sink. With no closets, no drawers and one tiny shelf much higher than me, I somehow organized my things in two hours and fell asleep.

The next morning I awoke to the majestic scene of the Rocky Mountains. We had traveled far since we boarded the train at 10:00 PM the previous night. Scrambling out of my cozy roomette, I bumped into other passengers going to the dining car for breakfast.

Meeting people is the best part of traveling by train. Breakfast, lunch and dinner is presented in the dining car decorated in pink and gray with etched glass dividers, reminiscent of the glamour of the early 50’s. Gourmet meals, such as full rack of lamb, and salmon in puff pasty, are served on white linen tablecloths. There is early seating and late seating and that is where you meet and make friends because passengers are seated together.

I have met some very nice and interesting folks from Canada, the US, and Australia. One evening I dined with tiny Wendy, who is the image of Halley Berry, only Wendy is a neuroscientist from Australia. She is traveling alone after finishing her PhD and taking a holiday before resuming her research on schizophrenia.

Nicole joined our table too and she is venturing into the world alone for the first time. She’s quite nervous about this whole idea of “flying solo”, but she feels she needs to do it to grow. Looking a bit punk, she will bartender herself through the world.

The old professor and his wife are on board and are as frail as one-winged sparrows. As they can barely walk, the other passengers politely pile up behind them when they tremulously walk down the hallway.

Then there is Jeff, a mild mannered financial planner who broke his neck in a car accident seven years ago and is coping with forced retirement.

It’s easy to meet people because there is nothing else to do except read, chat, or stare out the window hoping to see a bear. There is no TV, no radio, no cell phone, no entertainment. Staring out these panoramic windows is as mesmerizing as watching TV. Boreal forests cast their reflection on the Great Lakes and prairie sunsets glaze the sky in flames.

One night ten of us tackled a crossword puzzle and failed miserably. That’s what you do on a train. I did find a monitor in the little bar/lounge and watched movies with two British kids. They were siblings and only around 10 years old. Their accent was so adorable and personable, I felt like I fell into the Harry Potter car. Although there were probably less than ten children on the train, they were hardly noticeable they were so well behaved.

The Skyline lounge, in the last car, is stocked with snacks and liquid refreshments lending itself as a good place to hangout and watch the world go by. Here, I met a Scottish couple: Charlie, a woman master electrician and Neil, a motorcycle mechanic. Charlie fascinated me with stories of Scottish life and how she manages her job in a predominately male profession.

A favorite spot on the train is the Dome Car that projects from the top of the train with comfortable seating. The panoramic view feels like you’re standing on top of the train as it snakes down the tracks.

We did stop in Winnipeg for four hours, but I found it to be like most other big cities filled with buildings, malls and an outdoor market. We also stopped for ten minutes in a place called Melville. Its claim to fame is Mr. Melville, a very rich man who died on the Titanic. His town has a hardware store—that’s it, that’s Melville and ten minutes was plenty.

Ironically, train travel passes quickly and slowly. The daily meanderings float slowly by with plenty of time to read or stare out windows punctuated only by delicious meals. Then, suddenly you arrive at your destination.