Seen from a train: the Rockies

Train 2: Sunrise in Alberta

During the night I am dimly aware of our short stop at Kamloops, BC, to take on board a few passengers. I don't sleep too thoroughly for the first half of the night. After a number of overnight runs on Amtrak, it takes me a while to get used to the geometry of my seat and the best arrangement for my limbs to be twisted into. It's no less comfortable on this train, I'm just getting used to all the subtle changes as my body finds each hard and uncomfortable armrest one at a time.

I wake up properly at about 06.00. I know we have a time change to go through at some point this morning, so I decide to just change my watch forward an hour now. Seeing as we're in mountains, it seems to make sense to be on 'Mountain Time'.

We're rolling through scenery much as last night, only the valleys are less agricultural and are more forested. The roll through a cloud of mist that meets us in one valley, and high above us the thickly forested mountain tops are beginning to be warmed by the sun light from the east.

After being wished good morning by the attendant, I ask exactly how long our car is (having failed at every attempt yesterday to count). He tells me that it's 21 cars long, including the two locomotives and the baggage car at the front of the train. He says that it's a 'summer consist' but that it's by no means the longest. He arrived in Vancouver on Sunday on a train of 34. While the 'Canadian' just about makes money in the summer months, it loses it in the quieter off peak season.

Because we are still in the off peak season, as a coach passenger I'm allowed to walk back six cars to the restaurant. During the sumer months, this is reserved for sleeping car passengers, and coach class people like me are only allowed back into their Skyline car to buy snacks from the take out counter. Being a fan of breakfast, however, I jump at the opportunity to eat with the passengers travelling in more luxury.

I walk back at 06.30. Between our Skyline dome and the restaurant car there are three identical sleeping cars, and then another Skyline car. The sleeping cars have a mix of rooms and berths. I've reserved a berth for each leg of the journey I'll be taking next week from Winnipeg to Churchill and back (the 'Hudson Bay'). These are pairs of wide couchette seats that convert at night time into a lower and upper berth, separated from the corridor by a thick curtain. No-one appears to be travelling in these ones on this train: it's either cheap and cheerful coach class or all out sleeper luxury. I reach the dining car a little early, and wait for the servers to open for breakfast.

I'm one of the first in, although the car soon fills up and a list is started for those who can't be seated in the first sitting. I'm joined by a gentleman from Vancouver who is travelling to Edmonton on business. This sounds pretty incredible to me, and he explains that yes, he's only doing it because he has the time and wanted to treat himself. His train ticket cost about C$180 one way, whereas the return flight cost C$120. No prizes for guessing which is faster - a sad truth about train travel today.

The lavish menu is a world away from the Amtrak fayre I've experienced up to now. We both opt for the 'Trans-Continental', a plate of bacon, eggs and potatoes, with juice, coffee and toast on the side. It's preceded with a bowl of fresh fruit. I had actually asked for yoghurt, and when he noticed something was amiss the attentive waiter returned almost immediately with a bowl of fresh yoghurt and fruit conserve. I eat both, being too polite to make any more of a scene, and liking the look of the fresh fruit too much to send it back.

My breakfast companion and I talk about our trips (always the useful icebreaker, because from then onwards it's easy to lead on to other things). We discuss my love of architecture and the practicalities associated with making a go of it as a career. We also talk about our origins, and how his Finnish granparents arrived with nothing in Saskatchewan (where he grew up) and started out by building a modest sod-walled home. Soon ideas and opinions on what it means to be Canadian are flying around, and we are joined by a bemused Japanese couple who seem too intimidated to join our conversation. They eat quickly, and disappear, only to be replaced almost immediately by a well to do Australian couple who are with us as far as Jasper before heading to Prince Rupert on the scenic 'Skeena' train through the mountains. She starts with yoghurt and enjoys it; he starts with oatmeal and doesn't enjoy it.

The train slows and the attendants warn us to look out for a waterfall on the right. We all 'oooo' and 'ahhh' and I curse my ageing digital camera for taking so long to switch on. Despite my desire not to be a photograph obsessed tourist, I rush to take a photo, but we've missed the most spectacular part of the falls and I suspect my photograph is enhanced with a reflection of an art deco wall lamp. Hey ho.

I finish my coffee, and we bid each other farewell for now. I'm left extremely impressed by the restaurant car experience on VIA. The dining car was immaculate and the service excellent. The table was set with a linen tablecloth, bone china plates and spotless silver crockery. The food was good and the whole meal came to C$12 (for a coach passenger - all meals are included for sleeper passengers) which compares very favourably with what I'd eaten on trains south of the border. Sorry Amtrak, but the Canadians are pulling into the lead at this point.

I return to the front of the train, stopping on the way to chat to yet another friendly coach attendant. He explains how the berths are arranged and shows me what to expect on the 'Hudson Bay'. I'm impressed to see as well that there's a full shower amenity kit as well, with towels and accessories for the adjacent shower. He explains that the 'Hudson Bay' is quite a different train to the Canadian. It travels through landscape that is much flatter but no less scenic. It's much slower though, mainly because until it crosses the ice line the tracks suffer extensive distortion because of the freezing and thawing of the ground they're built on.

But that's still a long way off. It's time to return to the dome car.

Train 2: approaching the Rockies

Train 2: Sunset in British Columbia

It pains me to disappoint any proud Americans who are reading, but frankly, VIA Rail kicks Amtrak when it comes to traveling in coach class. As I settle into my comfy reclining seat, my friendly coach attendant comes through the car handing out the night time kit. If I had known they were so generous, I would have started my trip in Canada and saved money on all those sleeping accessories I bought in Montréal. I receive a pillow (about three times the size and density of the Amtrak one), a thick blanket, an eye mask, a flannel and ear plugs. Since I'll be traveling overnight on VIA several more times I'm going to be able to start a small collection of eye masks.

We're rolling through the flat countryside north-east of Vancouver. Our train's schedule lists several request stops before Kamloops, but since no-one is getting on or off, we're heading straight to Kamloops, where we'll pick up a handful of passengers in the early hours.

I buy a hot chocolate from the small take out counter that is undernearth the Skyline dome, and chat with the attendant there. Maybe it's just because we're still in the first twenty-four hours of the trip, but the crew on board this train are exceptionally chatty and friendly. On this train they're mostly from Winnipeg, and will be getting off there when the crew changes for the last leg of the trip. The cafe attendant lets me know he'll be showing a film at 21.00, and thank the lord I finally have a chance to see a decent film on a train: tonight's showing will be The Corpse Bride. I pass two friendly English women from Yorkshire (near to my university, which I'll be returning to do my masters degree at in October). We chat about our journeys, and I'm reminded of my fondness for the accents and voices of Sheffield.

I return to the dome and, along with about a dozen other passengers, watch the mountains approach. We pass small farms and villages, one by one being cast into shadow by the hills and mountains around them. I imagine the outside temperature is beginning to drop, and soon dew will be forming on the green fields. I don't yet perceive that we have gained any height... we are still bowling along level track in the wide flat valley floor. Soon the thinly-snow-capped mountains turn in colour from ice white to pink, reflecting the unseen sunset in the west. The sun is setting on another new landscape for me - a halfway point between rural farmland and majestic mountains.

From time to time we pass a farm that has a flag pole. Seeing the Canadian flag flying is an odd experience for me. Living in Québec I don't see the red maple leaf that often. After almost two weeks seeing the stars and stripes flying proud, it's strange to be back in a country where the flag has nothing more than a leaf on it. Maybe we build associations with these symbols over time, and attach personal meaning based on the experiences we have been through. Forgive me for being an naïve Canada-phile when I say this, but being an born and bred British man, this flag somehow means a lot more to me than any other.

Read that as you will... I head downstairs at 21.00 to watch the film. Despite the amazing animation used in the film, my eyelids are drooping. I can't tell if I dozed off during the film, but when it finished I was ready to sleep. I returned to my coach, wishing good night to the attendants and the group of passengers who had started up a heated conversation in the lounge.

Train 2: Skyline car

The real treat of the 'Canadian' can be found in the carriage behind me. On the long distance Amtrak trains I've ridden on this trip, you'll always find a 'Sightseer Lounge' car. These have extra large windows in the side, and smaller windows that curl up and over you into the roof along the length of either side of the car. While VIA Rail don't have any Sightseer Lounges, they do have a large fleet of 'Skyline' cars.

The Skyline cars are also original nineteen-fifties coaches that have been re-built and re-fitted to satisfy demanding tourists. While most cars are single level, the centre section of the Skyline is split level, with a lounge or cafe at each end, and a small staircase leading up to a viewing deck in the middle of the car. Although it's much smaller and sometimes more crowded than an Amtrak lounge, because the viewing deck is raised up above the roof of the car, you get to look forwards and backwards. We're not quite in the busy summer season yet, so it's not looking to get too busy, but I still head upstairs to sneak a peak at the suburbs of Vancouver as they slip away behind us. Right now it's not to busy up here, but that will no doubt change as we reach the mountains. There are a few people up here enjoying the evening sun (through the tinted windows and under the ever enthusiastic air conditioning) or taking photographs. During my trip I see a handful of train spotters using video cameras to record the rare forward facing view. Just a few cars in front of us, we can see our two diesel locomotives, puffing black smoke into the sky every time we accelerate. It certainly brings out the child in me... not quite like being an engine driver, but close enough. I collapse in a comfy seat and watch the head of our train forge our path out of Vancouver, passing green signals that somehow know to turn red once the front of the train has passed.

This Skyline car is one of three in the train, not including the streamlined Park car at the very end of the train, which has it's own domed viewing deck. They're scattered through the train, with one usually every four or five coaches. Ours is just for coach passengers; the others are for the sleeper passengers in the adjacent carraiges.

From time to time the train turns into a sharp curve, and our gleaming silver tail stretches out behind us. Craning my neck, I fail each time to count how many coaches there are.

Train 2: leaving Vancouver

Train 2: The Journey Begins

I should try not to be so casual about this. For many people, 'The Canadian' is a once in a lifetime experience. Whereas on Amtrak many of the passengers I met were travelling across the USA to see family, to go back to college or on business, VIA Rail Canada's long distance trains attract quite a different crowd. Having realised long ago that they were unable to compete in speed with the airlines or price with the Greyhound, VIA Rail decided to push their trains up-market. Following a period of chopping and changing of routes, 'The Canadian' recently celebrated it's fiftieth anniversary, and is the only remaining train in Canada that can truly claim to be trans-continental. Although the train 'only' operates the 4466km from Vancouver to Toronto (several thousand kilometers short of the Atlantic) many of the tourists who are on board this train have bought onward tickets or are using railpasses to connect with other services to Montréal, Québec and even Halifax. If you want to see Canada from coast to coast, there's arguably no better way than doing it on the train.

So while this is just another train on my itinerary, the atmosphere of excitement in the line up at Pacific Central Station is soon rubbing off on me. And when the platform gates open half an hour before our 17.30 depature, it's easy to see why. With the rear of the train closest to the station building, the first carraige that we see of 'The Canadian' is the beautifully streamlined 'Park' car. This elegant stainless steel dome car finishes the train with a rounded lounge that is exclusively for passengers in 'Silver and Blue' class. Us economy class passengers have a bit further to trudge, however: of the nineteen coaches forming this train today, just two are 'Comfort' class seated coaches - and they're right at the front of the train. By the time we reach them, several excited passengers have already made the inevitable joke about having already walked to Kamloops (the train's first stop).

The carraiges of the train are quite different from Amtrak's fleet. In order to justify the end of VIA's other trans-continental route (the 'Super-Continental') several million dollars was spent refurbishing and upgrading these nineteen-fifties coaches. On the outside, they're classic north American railroad style: shiny hipped stainless steel with a modest band of blue above the windows. Inside, air conditioning has been retro fitted, and the sleeper cars also have showers. In our coach the seats are finished in green, with hard wearing fabric and leather headrests. They're big, squishy and comfy.

Our car fills up with passengers - already I've heard Australian, Kiwi, English and Japanese voices. Surprisingly few Canadians, but there are a few - including a couple behind me travelling on CN passes. Listening to the husband talking, I get the impression he is a railroad man, and knows both the route and how the trains work.

The most audible voice in the car is, without a doubt, that of Meredith, on of the two coach attendants who are looking after the coach passengers. With a faulty PA system, it's over to her to belt out information about the car and safety information ("don't let us catch you walking between the cars without shoes"). A cluster of Japanese tour group members looks bemused, but they soon get the drift. Their tour guide appears flustered, and worries about seating arrangements. She seems to have even less clue about what is going on than her protégés.

Just after 17.30, the train shunts, and we begin to move. I offer a friendly farewell wave out of the window to a group of VIA engineers who have taken a break from their work in the adjacent train shed to watch us depart. They wave back, and enjoy the warmth of the sun as another of their trains pulls away on it's long journey.

Train 2: The Canadian

Vancouver

Today gives me just a few hours in Vancouver. All those months ago, my schedule demanded that I choose between spending more time in Seattle or more time in Vancouver. I couldn't have both, as the next train on my itinerary only departs three times a week, and the legendary tardiness of the Coast Starlight into Seattle could not guarantee a connection. So I chose to spend more time in Seattle, thinking quite reasonably that I would have more reason to go back to Vancouver soon. With the sun shining, the air fresh and the city streets humming with people, I quell the desire to have more time to kill here. After all, this trip is about the journey, and it's fun not getting bogged down in the day to day tourist activities.

Pacific Central Station is just a few blocks from Chinatown, so that's where I make a bee-line for. As in Seattle, I'm on the look out for some cheap food. I just have to get by damned Québec ATM card to work in a bank machine. This takes three attempts and a phone call in broken French to my bank. Turns out they don't like me taking out too much money when I'm away from home (probably a good thing) so I go back and have another go and all works fine. By this time I'm starving, and without much thinking I dive into the first restaurant I find. It also seems to double up as a Chinese bakery, with fresh steamed buns on the menu. I play it safe (and inexpensive) with a plate of vermicelli, snow cabbage and pork. It comes with a coffee, and the bill is just C$5.62. I'm a happy boy.

I cut back onto Hastings Street, and walk towards downtown. Like all Canadian cities, Vancouver has it's compliment of tall, shiny and instantly forgetable skyscrapers. Canadian cities are popular locations for television commercials, because they can be easily filmed without including any recognisable landmarks.

I stride along the streets, stopping to buy postcards and to peer in shop windows. I take some photographs across the Burrard Inlet towards the mountains. It is the surrounding landscape that makes Vancouver. The city has the ocean on one side and mountains on the other. Seattle is similar, but some distance away from the open sea. Vancouver's location is pretty impressive, and also drop dead gorgeous. If you ever hear the one about the Vancouverite who goes skiing in the morning and swimming in the sea in the afternoon, bear in mind it's probably not a joke.

I turn back towards the station with plenty of time on my hands, thinking to drop by the Vancouver Art Gallery. I'm glad I spared the time, because upstairs there's an excellent travelling exhibit on pre-fabricated domestic architecture. The exhibition offered an excellent combination of photographs, videos, drawings and models, and discussed some of the more exciting ways in which prefabrication is developing the most important (and often most underdeveloped) type of architecture - that of the humble house.

I skip down to the ground floor and float through the excellent selection of paintings by the Group of Seven, a school unknown to me before I arrived in Canada. Some of the work may not be that great, but it's cultural importance to the development of modern art in Canada makes it an important chapter in this country's young artistic history.

I seek directions to the Skytrain (using my bumbling English accent to great advantage... are Canadians more susceptible to it than Americans?) and ride one stop from the Stadium station to Main Street station. I have just enough time to e-mail and blog from a near-by hostel, before I return to the Pacific Central Station. The next stage of my journey is about to begin.

Vancouver: Pacific Central Station

Train 510: Welcome to Canada

We reach Vancouver just over an hour late. Unlike my previous encounters on cross-border Amtrak services, our journey has not been interupted by border guards. At Pacific Central Station in Vancouver, our train pulls into a special platform which is surrounded by three metre high fence. Behind us the tracks are closed off by a tall gate. One by on the cars are opened, and we disembark and head to the station, where Canadian Customs officials are ready and waiting for us. There is a short queue, and as usual the precise nature of my work permit is questioned. But the process is quick and infinitely more sensible that stopping the train en route.

I leave my bags at the station ticket desk (C$2.50 a piece, but I'm able to give a handful of US change to make up for what I don't have in Canadian currency). Newspapers are on sale announcing the near record high of the Canadian dollar against the US dollar, now nearing C$0.90 to US$1.00. Great for Canadian tourists, bad for Canadian business. I really should have postponed my trip a little later...

I step out into the bright sunshine, and breathe some fresh Canadian air.

Train 510: Now there's a surprise

Being a niggling passenger, I manage to eventually find some fault with this train. The doors in our extra short carraiges are very annoying - they open and close noisily, and I begin to wonder whether being in a shorter carraige means that I am statistically more likely to be bothered by noisy doors. Once we have left Everett, the television screens in our car show a safety video. Then the conductor puts on today's feature film, Memoirs of a Geisha. This compares well to some of the awful crud that has been played for amusement on the long distance trains I've ridden so far (Yours Mine and Ours falls into the category) but I can't help being confused at seeing actors and actresses who I am sure are Chinese playing roles in a film about Japan... or is that just me?

After we pull away from Bellingham, the last stop before the border, it becomes apparent that this blissful Amtrak experience is also going to go the way of my others. We get held up by one freight train, and then by another. Our path along the single track is soon blocked, and we have to undergo a painful shunt forwards and backwards into a dead end siding to let a south bound train come past. By the time we have crossed the border, passing the pretty sea front town of White Rock, BC (where everyone seems to be waving at us as we pass) we are already at least one hour behind. That's not much compared to my other rides, but this one is only scheduled to take four hours. As a compensation of sorts, the conductor offers us a second film - Cheaper By The Dozen 2. He might have been refering to our timekeeping, but I certainly agreed with the conductor when he said 'I hope we don't get to see all of this...'

In the distance, the skyline of Vancouver comes into view, and I sink comfortably into my seat. Although my next connection is pretty important, I have plenty of time.

Train 510: The Puget Sound

Train 510: Amtrak Cascades

Another day, and another train. In fact, today will bring two trains, and two major journeys. The first starts right here, in downtown Seattle. My hosts in Seattle, who have not taken a moment to rest from spoiling me rotten, have dropped me off for the first departure of the day to Vancouver, BC. Or as Amtrak like to say it, Vancouver Canada. They make sure you get the Canada bit, because not only is there a Vancouver in the USA, it's in Washington state and it's served by train from this station.

Seattle King Street station is a grand old building on the outside, but the ticket hall is a depressing mish mash of strip lighting and plastic chairs. Once I've check in for the train, I move over to the side of the room, and am mortified to look up through a gap between the suspended ceiling and the wall. Above the cheap and dilapidated suspended ceiling is the beautiful original stucco ceiling that once graced the ticket hall. It's still there, waiting to be rediscovered and shared with the people travelling through this station. Parts of it have been hacked away though to provide fixing points for the suspended ceiling. I realise I sound more and more conservative when I comment about architecture on this blog, but I can't help feeling the person who authorised that should be shot.

Oh, and for any of you archetypal gun slinging Americans (the ones we Europeans see on TV all the time), you'll find a very prominent notice next to the check-in desks here. It reads:

No weapons permitted into Canada, including hand guns, automatic weapons, mace, pepper spray, stun guns or flammable materials.

You have been warned. D'em Canucks take d'is peace t'ing seriously.

At around 07.30 boarding begins. The train we're riding on is different from any other that I've been on so far. It's one of a small fleet of 'Talgo' trains, built in Spain and the USA to a European design. They're lower, sleeker and each coach is about half the size of a regular Amtrak carraige. They can also tilt into corners, and are theoretically capable of more than 100mph. They're also quite nifty inside, with comfy seats (only three across in our car), on board films, and both a 'bistro cafe' and 'diner' for snacking and full meals.

If you want to take the journey as well, then be sure to read the timetable carefully. Amtrak list five daily departures from Seattle to Vancouver, BC. However this is the only one that is actually a train - the others are all buses. There simply isn't enough money, government support or equipment to run any more, even though this is one of Amtrak's most popular 'corridors' for service, with more than three million riders annually between Eugene-Springfield, Portland, Seattle and Vancouver. We leave on time, and cross the bridge into Ballard, passing within sight of the restaurant where just twelve hours earlier I had eaten very well indeed. Almost immediately afterwards, the track runs alongside the Puget Sound, and across the calm blue expanse of water, we can just make out the Olympic Mountains.

This way to Canada