The silver train of four carraiges begins imperceptibly to move. I have missed the exact moment that this journey commences. Bugger.
The platforms are grey in unfinished concrete, more like a freight depot than a railway station. This is not a grand place to begin a journey that will carry me the equivilent of half way round the planet. I suppose I should be grateful that the platform is level with the train. That itself seems to be a rarity outside major cities in North America.
As we slide out of Central Station Gary, our Amtrak conductor collects our tickets. First impressions are good. He seems to be starting this trip in a better mood than many of my previous Amtrak conductors. The line curves out from Central Station, past sparkling cars in the sunny spring morning. Montreal will be hot today. As the line continues its turn towards the bridge over the St. Lawrence River, I look back and take a photograph of the skyline of clustered skyscrapers.
The same view will welcome me home in thirty days time...