Rails &
Rooms
A Timeless Canadian Journey
Photos by Dave Preston
I think the only way to spend time at a train station, or a bus depot
or airport, is on your own. Free of the need to make promises of writing
or calling or keeping in touch, unencumbered by the guesswork of when
to give that final hug, or whether to kiss on the cheek or the lips. Not
worrying about whether to whisper “I love you” as you finally
break away. Goodbyes are stressful, so not having to say one here in Halifax
lightened my load, leaving me free to watch others leap or fall through
emotional hoops.
The VIA Rail Station in Halifax stands near the foot of
Hollis Street, a short block from the waterfront and across the road from
a small park named in honour of Edward Cornwallis, the man who claims
to have got here first in 1749. A monument dedicated to the early Ukrainian
settlers, so many of whom first stepped on Canadian soil here, stands
proudly in the park’s centre. The station is simply one rectangular
hall flanked by a few small offices and stores. It looks robust and handsome,
built of stoned quarried in New Brunswick and brought here by rail cars
in the 1920s. Bedecked with coloured flags and plants, it’s a cheerful
enough place to wait for a train, and there’s only one a day.
Harold, the bar waiter, came around to welcome us aboard
with complimentary glasses of sparkling white wine -- my class of ticket
qualified me for free food, but, apart from tea and coffee, I had to pay
for all other drinks, hard or soft. Harold said it would make the journey
and everyone’s life much easier if we stuck to our sittings; that
is, since we answered first call for lunch we should come to first call
for dinner, at 5:00 p.m. Fine by me. (Breakfast runs from 6:30 a.m. for
about three hours, on a first-come first-served basis. It would not surprise
my mother to learn that I was never first-served.)
During my first exploratory tour of Chateau Lake Louise
I heard an announcement coming through speakers in the hallway ceilings,
telling me there was going to be a fire drill and not to worry, so I didn't.
The announcements continued, some live and some recorded, as I took the
elevator (which you should never do during a real fire, of course) down
to the lobby and continued my walk, all the while hearing a loud bell
that turned the heads of quite a few visitors -- mainly I suspect, those
who didn’t speak English. Five minutes later a cheerful announcement
told us the drill had finished, and the bell stopped.
People arrive in Jasper by various means these days. The
train is still popular, but scores of tour buses make the five-hour-or-so
drive from Calgary or Edmonton, and a few more affluent visitors use the
private airport at Hinton, forty-five minutes away by road. The average
stay for a JPL visitor is two and half days, but I had to appreciate all
I could in just twenty-four hours. I planned to make a road trip down
to Banff and Lake Louise, returning to Jasper for my next railway leg
in four days’ time. And I really had to do some laundry.
I found warmth and charm, and the “Castle in the Mountains”
atmosphere that Banff became famous for, in Mount Stephen Hall. It was
named for Lord Mount Stephen, first president of the CPR. The floor is
of Bedford lime flagstones, and overhead great oak beams span the ceiling
and feature the crests of nine Canadian provinces (every one but Newfoundland,
which wasn’t in the federal club at that point). Stained-glass windows
have the colourful crests and Latin mottoes of various CP officials.
I had promised myself I’d get up to see the sunrise, so I didn't
really sleep, but kept leaning forward every half-hour to raise the blind,
making sure I didn't miss daybreak. I was also cold so I remade the bed
with another VIA "pure new wool" grey blanket and tried again
to sleep. Then I got up, put more clothes on, got back in, checked the
blind, looked for more blankets, remade the bed, used the washroom, remade
the bed, and checked the blind. I finally decided to cancel my date with
the sunrise and drifted off into a fitful slumber. Minutes later I was
woken when the train stopped, only to realize the sun was coming up!
All photos © Dave Preston 2008. All rights
reserved.
|
