Edmonton
Only two trains a week go from Toronto to Vancouver, passing through several towns and cities including Edmonton. Toronto to Edmonton normally takes around 48 hours. Long enough to get to meet several people.
A young couple were seated with us when a group of five (Patrick, Tony, two German women and I, see below) decided to try the first-class restaurant. They mention wedding plans in the coming year. She remains patient as she explains what cutlery to use at different stages of the meal; he points out she's using the large knife for buttering her bun. When they emerge groggy and drug-deprived at 2AM, they are too late to get out of the train. No smoke break, he blames her for not waking him up in time, calls her a "fucking cunt". Lovely couple.
Most of the smokers aboard were cranky as they only had 3 smoke breaks every 24 hours. In desperation, some resorted to breaking the rules and the bathrooms are routinely nicotinized. There is a ritual that sets in, and smokers get jittery and impatient at every major stop.
Steve got bit by the travel bug doing a Canada World Youth exchange; he's now up to 126 countries visited and looks to be in his mid-30's. He and his Turkish girlfriend met in Malta, and she came to Canada to be close to him and study English. I pick Steve's brain; he recommends India and Nepal. Some of his photos are online.
Also of note and with a handy URL, I met Angela Bischoff on the train. She used to work with the EAC's Trax project. A few years ago when her husband Tooker committed suicide, I was surprised that she said "He was killed by depression". Reading up on her work on psychiatric drugs - and recently seeing again people in my family be prescribed them - I am convinced many of these do more harm than good. There is something fundamentally wrong with our mental health care system. She has a blog worth checking out.
Ironically, I finished reading Eastern Standard Tribe while most of the people on the train were sleeping, messing up my circadian rhythm. Art, the main protagonist is locked up by people trying to harm him (and he did threaten to kill them), and asks a doctor: "Has anyone ever been admitted to this facility because it was believed he had paranoid delusions, and later released because he was indeed the center of a plot?".
Annemarie and Michaela are going back to Germany before I really get to know them. They inject a dose of silliness and joy in a trip with a few weirdos. An insufferable idiot who won't use protection for HIV because like AIDS and Cancer, those are just imaginary. Other travel companions are generally a lot more fun and less neurotic. Patrick is a French-Canadian who was working for the Cirque du Soleil, Tony works in Banff as a massage therapist. Patrick, Tony, the two German women and I all went together to eat in that diner car.
Interesting people and conversation, fun co-operative Scrabble with an Australian maven, the coincidence of meeting Angela, the amazing scenery. Full-moon, planned just as Kate had suggested. I'm exhausted, but this is everything I was hoping it would be, and I can't wait to be in Vancouver to visit that area.
A young couple were seated with us when a group of five (Patrick, Tony, two German women and I, see below) decided to try the first-class restaurant. They mention wedding plans in the coming year. She remains patient as she explains what cutlery to use at different stages of the meal; he points out she's using the large knife for buttering her bun. When they emerge groggy and drug-deprived at 2AM, they are too late to get out of the train. No smoke break, he blames her for not waking him up in time, calls her a "fucking cunt". Lovely couple.
Most of the smokers aboard were cranky as they only had 3 smoke breaks every 24 hours. In desperation, some resorted to breaking the rules and the bathrooms are routinely nicotinized. There is a ritual that sets in, and smokers get jittery and impatient at every major stop.
Steve got bit by the travel bug doing a Canada World Youth exchange; he's now up to 126 countries visited and looks to be in his mid-30's. He and his Turkish girlfriend met in Malta, and she came to Canada to be close to him and study English. I pick Steve's brain; he recommends India and Nepal. Some of his photos are online.
Also of note and with a handy URL, I met Angela Bischoff on the train. She used to work with the EAC's Trax project. A few years ago when her husband Tooker committed suicide, I was surprised that she said "He was killed by depression". Reading up on her work on psychiatric drugs - and recently seeing again people in my family be prescribed them - I am convinced many of these do more harm than good. There is something fundamentally wrong with our mental health care system. She has a blog worth checking out.
Ironically, I finished reading Eastern Standard Tribe while most of the people on the train were sleeping, messing up my circadian rhythm. Art, the main protagonist is locked up by people trying to harm him (and he did threaten to kill them), and asks a doctor: "Has anyone ever been admitted to this facility because it was believed he had paranoid delusions, and later released because he was indeed the center of a plot?".
Annemarie and Michaela are going back to Germany before I really get to know them. They inject a dose of silliness and joy in a trip with a few weirdos. An insufferable idiot who won't use protection for HIV because like AIDS and Cancer, those are just imaginary. Other travel companions are generally a lot more fun and less neurotic. Patrick is a French-Canadian who was working for the Cirque du Soleil, Tony works in Banff as a massage therapist. Patrick, Tony, the two German women and I all went together to eat in that diner car.
Interesting people and conversation, fun co-operative Scrabble with an Australian maven, the coincidence of meeting Angela, the amazing scenery. Full-moon, planned just as Kate had suggested. I'm exhausted, but this is everything I was hoping it would be, and I can't wait to be in Vancouver to visit that area.