First Person is a daily personal piece submitted by readers. Have a story to tell? See our guidelines at tgam.ca/essayguide.
To my husband’s great relief, a four-day cross-Canada trip on the Canadian struck me as a wonderful way to celebrate a milestone birthday. That this train trip could be more than a great way to see the country, that it could serve as a catalyst for deep reflection on my 70 years and even a metaphor for my life, was a realization that dawned on me slowly and unexpectedly on the journey.
The inward-looking dimension of the trip began to dawn shortly after we boarded in Toronto. I soon began paying attention to the movement of the train itself. At times we raced, then we crawled, we sat sidetracked as more important trains whizzed by, we even went backward a couple of times – it was hard not to see the similarities with my own journey of 70 years.
As I met and spoke with other passengers it seemed that many were having their own moments of self reflection. I don’t know if it was the rhythmic sounds, the holiday mood, the gentle rocking or the blurry tableau streaming past, but together they seemed to conjure up the perfect environment for sharing.
Everyone of course had a story but it was the way they told them, the colour and the nuance, that suggested these deeper conversations were brought on by the train journey … or perhaps I was just hearing these stories from a different place in my own soul.
I spoke with a granny who has a severe fear of flying and the train is the only way she can get to see her grandchildren. She faithfully boards the Canadian once a year and confessed that her heart sings louder with each passing mile. I too was heading to see grandchildren in Vancouver and we were able to share that special feeling.
We had a few meals and many laughs with a couple of similar age from Edinburgh. Now retired, they were heading to meet their daughter working in Banff, Alta. In spite of living our lives half a world away, we had an instant connection, surprised by the number of things we had in common and curious about the differences.
We dined with a recent widow from Toronto and her son, a nurse from Vancouver, who bought the tickets on the hunch that the trip could be solace for his Mum and a milestone in their relationship. It was obviously a precious time for them both.
There was a young woman from China, travelling alone, chatting with everyone. It put me in mind of my own solo train journey across Australia as a 20-something, but I don’t remember being so self-assured.
Two fellows, each travelling alone, joined us at lunch one day. The man in his 50s was thinking about a career change and felt that time on the train would help with the decision. The other, a 30 year old from Toronto with a blue-collar job, loved adventure and photography. He was snapping his way across the country and back.
A middle-aged couple from Melbourne were having the holiday of a lifetime, at first grumbling about the cost of their trip but soon snapping pictures non-stop. Snow in the bush and frozen lakes in spring, are you kidding?
An extended family of five adults were on their third train ride across Canada. It was fun to hear their banter and a pleasure to be included in their conversations. Passing by their sleeping quarters on our way back to our room from the dining car it was inspiring to see the two 80-somethings in their group clambering up the ladder to the top berth, laughing and chatting as they went.
We also met a man who, in 1964, spent his honeymoon on the Canadian. His wife of 59 years had died recently and he was taking the train again to recover that memory and to say goodbye.
As for the view out the window, the Canadian landscape was vividly on display. Approaching the cities reminds you that you live in the 21st century, but the bits in between seem timeless. The Canadian Shield and the Boreal forest of Northern Ontario with its endless trees and lakes; the switch-flipping transition to the big-sky prairies at the Manitoba border; the magnificent mountains start in Alberta; and finally the relentless waters of British Columbia’s Fraser River as it thrashes and then meanders to the ocean.
While our train spent a lot of time on sidings waiting for freight trains to pass it reminded me that trains are essential to the commercial lifeblood of this country. But I for one am thankful for passenger trains like the Canadian: This trip was more than a novel way for me to travel across this great country, it was a chance to pause, reflect and give thanks at the 70-year milepost on my own life’s journey.
Alison West Armstrong lives in Arnprior, Ont.