Adam's Travels Galore

Fast and Delayed (Part II: Montreal to Grimsby Ontario via Toronto)

2009-01-11T19:52:00.004-04:00

On time....for now

I was in Montreal for only an hour and a half before it was time to once again join a throng of people lined up for VIA 61 to Montreal. It was nice to see Mikolaj again, even nicer to sit down for a breakfast, and even nicer still to know that because my trip on board VIA 57 was a no go, VIA put me on another train at no additional cost. And with the possibility of seeing people in Toronto, let's just say that it was a win-win situation. However boarding this train was a nerve wracking experience.
The train had already passengers on board it going to Toronto. They had paid to be on this train. I had not, so VIA must have added on more cars, and the line up in the station was long. I knew however, and was glad that some passengers would be going on the train to Toronto, others to Kingston or Cornwall, so the likelihood that I would be stuck in Montreal still nagged me at the back of my mind. But as the line crawled toward the boarding gate, I was getting more and more confident I would have a seat. That is until the sight of a crowded train greeted me as I walked alongside it on Montreal's above ground platforms. A blond haired attendant directed me towards the last car, at which another attendant in his long trench coat came out and said that he could not take anymore people. I was to be the last passenger admitted onto his car.
The moment I got into the car I had to pile my luggage on top of all the other unfortunate passengers who had missed their connection and their opportunity to travel on a train with checked luggage. I struggled for a moment or two to find a seat until I found a nice old lady, whom I had found out had also been on the same train as I had been on, going out to London to visit her grandchildren. Honestly I don't mind sitting next to seniors, I have good conversations with them, and on this trip she offered me a banana outside of Cobourg. See why do you need to spend $3 on a small container of Pringles when you have a senior who is willing to give you food for free. In this case too, I did not want to be that annoying teenager so I did not turn on my MP3 until after she had fallen asleep, because there is nothing more rude in this world than someone who listens to an MP3 player whilst someone else is talking.
VIA 61 departed Montreal on time, and for once I was glad to see the train slipping through the snow of Montreal at scheduled time. I had been on a train that was delayed by two hours coming into Montreal, so arriving at Dorval at 1204 (sch. 1209) was a welcome sight. The attendant serving in this renovated HEP-II car came around just as we left Dorval offering snacks for sale, and I did not take anything, because that crepe was just so filling. The reality also of having to pay almost $5 for something less than satisfying also was a turn off. I also knew that I would be arriving in Toronto with an hour to spare before my final train to Grimsby departed so food could be held off until then. When we crossed the Ontario border, and I could tell because at this point you can see the 401 and the sign proclaiming "Welcome to Ontario/Bienvenue a Ontario" with whatever slogan Ontario tourism has now. I was back in my home province, one that has been rocked by so much in the past few months, and could only get worse or better depending on what Harper is willing to do. All I knew was that I was now entering a "Have not" province.
The first stop in Ontario, at the shipping town of Cornwall, was at 1249, a full ten minutes before our scheduled arrival time. This was more like it, I thought, now a VIA corridor run is operating as it should: on schedule and roaring through Ontario.

Too Good to be True....

Our train was so early that we had to wait for clearance to proceed, and even as we left Cornwall it was not at the impressive gait that we had only moments before, it was not a crawl, but dramatically slower until we crossed over to another track and then the engineers throttled it back up and we were making good time again. Then our Service Manager, (formerly known as the conductor) came on the PA system in his accented English to announce we had to rescue another train that had failed near Brockville. He said the process would take ten minutes, but all I knew was that my so far perfect trip had once again fallen to shambles.
Yes I know it is selfish to think I was so impatient that VIA could not help another train who had a failed locomotive, but you have to understand that Brockville is one of the biggest hubs in eastern Ontario, especially on VIA's system when trains destined for both Ottawa and Montreal call on it. Our train, an express from Cornwall, with one stop in Kingston, to Guildwood (located about twenty minutes outside of Toronto) does not even call on Brockville. We should have sped through Perth county, instead of stopping. But nonetheless we did. The operation did last ten minutes, just as the SM had told us. And now we had lost the on time performance, arriving at Kingston at 1440 (sch. 1420) and leaving twelve minutes later. We were so late that VIA 45 from Ottawa was stopped at a signal waiting for our train to clear the station, and for the rest of the journey we played follow the leader. In Toronto, VIA 45 arrived only fifteen minutes after my train arrived.
Kingston also marked the first time that the snow disappeared.
One of the first questions everyone asked me when I got home was "How much snow do you have in Fredericton Adam?" They expect me to answer that I have a lot of snow and it is colder. The reality is that there were only a few snowstorms in December, and the weather was strange in 2008 as it would be minus eight degrees one day and snow and then fourteen degrees above zero with rain three days later. The first time I saw snow was on my journey through Quebec and Montreal. Truth be told, I love it to see how shocked people are when I admit to them that Fredericton, despite what you may think of it being in a constant deep freeze, I had no snow on the ground (We do have snow as of the writing of this post, and that's right it is about -26, without factoring in the windchill).
As for the train ride, we passed through Belleville at an impressive gait, slowed down a bit for taking a few switches near Cobourg. For the next hour or so my train trip was uneventful. This is where corridor runs get a little dry. On transcontinental routes, there are, or so it seems, plenty of opportunities to see something you would not see on your average train ride on VIA Rail Canada. Every town is different, every town has a distinct character, combined with the landscapes, and you are always in for a trip. In Ontario, it seemed to me that it was all the same, that this ride was getting downright boring at some points. I did not miss anything when I passed by Oshawa, I knew GM was still there. I wished that I could seen Lake Ontario near Scarborough however, that is the only consequence of traveling at night. As for the landscapes, Ontario is pretty downright boring. Oh--look a lake. Oh--look at that farmland. Oh--look! Cars and cities and people and such.
VIA 61 arrived into Guildwood at 1651, thirty minutes late.
On our final approach to Toronto Union, the accented Service Manager came on and announced our connections. I had found out that VIA 61 becomes VIA 95 at Toronto, if only the first four cars. This meant I had to go downstairs at the terminal and wait in line with all the other passengers before I could board. No problem I thought. We were just on final approach to Toronto Union when I looked outside my window to see rain.
Yes, I grumbled as I retrieved my baggage and walked along the platform at Toronto Union, getting on an escalator to the VIA concourse, that is what springs to mind when I think of winter: rain. VIA 61, and the second part of my journey, had arrived at Toronto at 1711, almost forty five minutes late.

The Last Ninety Kilometres

There is one part of Toronto's Union Station that Montreal's Central Station does not rival. That is the Grand Hall. It is massive hall that welcomes people as they walk off of Front Street into Canada's grandest station. A place where reunions take place, where loved ones say Adieu and good luck, a place that has seen royalty, even concerts take place inside this cavernous space, is one of my favourite places in the city of Toronto. So I went to the Great Hall, even though I knew I was supposed to go to my gate to board VIA 95, the SM's broken English made me want to do a double check. Once I had confirmed the gate, I walked back underneath the carved sign "To all Trains" and into VIA concourse to a line for my last train of what was a long journey already, but only an hour separated me from Toronto and home.
I stood in the line waiting for them to open the gate with a huge carry on and a even larger bag full of my clothes. My back was breaking. At least it was only one more time. And so as they opened up the gate and I walked alongside the train that I would be taking home, I was somewhat disappointed that I was considered a short in the new crew and sat in the Comfort section of this LRC car. Getting in this car was a milestone, I had been on three different cars on three different segments. The first segment was HEP I, the Budds, the second was HEP II, newly refurbished, and the third segment was LRC. It is really hard to pick the winner of the most comfortable seat, all of them as soon as I sat down in them my but just began to sink, and I was fully relaxed.
I saw someone across the aisle pull out their laptop and loaded a movie on it. I saw someone else reading a magazine about Toronto while someone else slept, and a girl behind me was talking about Ridley College and hockey. And then something amazing happened, suddenly all around me all these university students popped out of nowhere. "Oh I'm from McGill" one proclaimed, "I'm at Carleton" another crowed. And what did all of them say afterwards, "This train ride has been so long." I think once I looked at the girl who said this, who was from Carleton, and I was just ready to say "Oh yeah, I have been on the train for about a day now, and you have just been four hours on a train. That is nothing."
But I held my tongue.
We left Toronto at 1750 (sch. 1745), taking it slow over a myriad of switches, ducking under the flyunder, and onto the mainline of the Oakville Subdivision, passing GO stations as if they were little insignificant beings that were not worthy of being called upon by this vivacious VIA 95. We arrived at Oakville at 1813, four minutes late, and Aldershot at 1820, three minutes late. What amazed me is that it only takes about seven minutes for a VIA to travel the same distance that it takes a GO Train about thirty minutes.
As we passed through Bayview, my thoughts once again reflected on the fact I would be seeing Hamilton again. Yay, I sarcastically thought to myself, pollution from Arcelor-Mittal and US Steel, formerly Dofasco and Stelco respectively. The last thirty minutes of my journey on that straightaway from James Street in Hamilton to Grimsby was spent in once again trying to look outside at anything, but the bright lights from the car obscured everything.
Finally the announcement came. "Your attention please. We will be arriving in Grimsby shortly. This station stop is Grimsby, Grimsby station."
There were only three passengers getting off the train, and I was last to disembark. You could have sworn that I was returning from some sort of foreign mission the way that I was welcomed back to Grimsby. My mom had a sign, as if I was coming out of the airport. And so I was reunited with my family, at long last. The last ninety minutes had flown by.
The last 1860 kilometre long journey had been a blast. VIA had proven to me once again quality and comfort are twins. I had travelled on a train after being divorced from my favourite form of transportation in nine months. I had a wonderful reception all along my journey. By the end of the day, I was glad to be home. And seeing a bit of my country was a bonus for me.
But I was home. No more school for me for three weeks, even though I knew I would miss everyone in the Cross, I knew we would be reunited after three weeks. But sweet heaven above! What a way to begin my vacation. A lovely rail journey.
*********
We conclude with my travels, with my first flight on Air Canada in the new Year as I leave Grimsby for Fredericton via Ottawa

For the love of a Hard Hat (Part I: Fredericton to Montreal via Moncton NB)

2009-01-06T12:17:00.012-04:00

St. Thomas

There and back again seems like an appropriate title for my travels, not because I am a hobbit and wanted to write a memoirs of my epic journey through half of Canada to find treasure. Rather I chose this title because it really was a journey that went there and came back again to my starting point. This is the life of an university student, and when said student is two provinces away from his hometown, the journey certainly does become an epic adventure that he must tell the blogosphere about.
Let me first give you a little background information of where I am studying. St. Thomas University located in Fredericton, New Brunswick is a small liberal arts school, where I am hoping to major in journalism, although at this point in time it is still to be determined. The next question people ask me is why New Brunswick? My answer is why not. Universities in the east offer smaller classes, lower tuition, and my campus is gorgeous, at least in my humble opinion. And coming from southern Ontario with its constant gridlock, pollution, and general rowdiness I needed a change. What better change, I thought, than going out east for my post secondary education. It would be totally unique, getting a Bachelor of Arts from a little known university, that offers many of the same courses only with the motto to "Think for yourself." It is true my parents are excited for me to go to school there, but sometimes there are moments when I just felt a little alone and I needed my family and my friends around.
The Christmas holidays were the first opportunity to reunite with my family and friends in Ontario after my first semester.

The Risk of the Hard Hat

On the Saturday morning that I would be leaving for my epic journey home I was already packed. In fact, I had began my packing right after my final exam on the Friday. I ate my last first semester university breakfast, which I still remember (not fondly per se) was scrambled eggs, homefries, toast, Chamomile tea, and a muffin, which I saved for the train ride.
My first part of the trip was taking Acadian Bus Lines from Fredericton to Moncton, where I would connect with VIA's Ocean for Montreal.
Please let me indulge you in a short story before I continue.
Over the past few months I had a hard hat reside in my room.
This hard hat belonged to a friend of mine, Rachel, who was at the University of Toronto studying engineering. Hard hats are apparently quite well protected by engineers and people (whom are affectionately termed as "Artsies") who end up managing to steal a hard hat are quite frequently swarmed by engineering. Another one of my friends, Brian, who is at U of T studying music managed to kidnap (I was going to write steal, but that seemed less dramatic to me) a hard hat and sent the hard hat as a Thanksgiving present to another one of my friends, and the closest to me, Mikolaj, who is also studying music, only at McGill. I received this hard hat from him after he came up with the brilliant plan to send it to various cities in Canada. And so on the day after my history exam, and the day before I was due to leave, Katelin and I walked around the city taking pictures with the hard hat. It was a great day, even though the weather was yucky. New Brunswick got hit with a messy rain storm, or at least southern New Brunswick did. I will reveal what the northern environs received as the tale continues. Back to Fredericton.
So as I hopped in a taxi with four other Crossers, I was just glad to be going home. And just as we were coming down York Street, I suddenly remembered what I had forgot. The hard hat. Now it would not have been a problem, but I panicked, mainly because A) I was meeting Mikolaj in Montreal when I got off the train, and B) Rachel requested the hard hat.
So what did I do? I took a risky move.
I dropped off my baggage, including my massive carry on, with my fellow Crossers at the terminal while I ran (literally) to King's Place where I would get a city bus to take me back to STU where I could grab the hard hat and then take a taxi back down. It was a risky move, because I had about an hour before the bus left for Moncton. Never have I felt like screaming at the city bus drivers before, but today they were especially slow. Which annoyed me. I was in a hurry, I did not want to put those who were watching my bags in an awkward position just because I was not there and they needed to go home as well. Nevertheless, I grabbed the hard hat, I grabbed some one's cellphone to get a taxi and I stood there in the wind waiting for the taxi. Each minute slid by, making me worried by each passing second. Until suddenly George's Skycab pulled into the Holy Cross parking lot and I was whisked down the hill back to the bus terminal.
And when I got there, lo and behold, my bus had just pulled in. I was not late at all. I was just sweaty, tired, and ready for a relaxing bus ride to Moncton.
The bus that day was packed. So I was crammed into the back of the bus with a man who wheezed beside me. Naturally when I got off the bus, I was just hoping that the train would not be as crowded. And although my fellow Crossers still had a journey in front of them, my journey was just getting started.

Ice and Moon

The city of Moncton is the largest city in the province of New Brunswick. It has a population of about 126,000 souls (by comparison, Fredericton has about 85,000 souls), and is considered to be the hub city of the province as it is the gateway city as travellers enter the province on Route 2 from Nova Scotia or from Prince Edward Island. As this city is the hub of the province, it was the location of the closest VIA Rail station to Fredericton.
The VIA Rail station is located about two blocks from the bus terminal, so I was walking along Main Street past Highfield Square to the station located just beyond in the back of the mall's parking lot. I walked into my first train station in about, I don't want to say it but about nine months that day in December.
One of the first impressions I got of the Moncton station was how nice the renovations were. In fact this station, along with Bathurst, is one of a few in the Maritimes to receive funding from the 2001 Renaissance project for VIA Rail. In fact the station was built in a good location, not too far away from the downtown core, a skip away from a mall and grocery store, and located on a main thoroughfare. I dropped off my luggage, checking it to Toronto, and I lugged my heavy carry on to the mall where I spent a small time walking through The Bay. I bought a sandwich from Sobeys, which would be my supper. That and a bag of chips. With water. I was not sure what meals they would be serving on the train so when I saw the Sobeys I jumped at the opportunity.
While I was sitting in the attention something odd happened. A VIA train, with Renaissance equipment, pulled in the station. As it was quickly announced it was VIA 14, the Ocean from Montreal, arriving about three hours behind schedule. I was not sure what had caused the delay, but I sure it was going to affect us as well.
For the remaining three hours before my train, VIA 15 was due to call on the station, I spent trying to attempt to read a book, "A Short History of Progress" by Ronald Wright, however it was merely an attempt (As of this post being written I still have about ninety pages left in the book). So I turned on my MP3 player, and tried to listen to something, but I had already spent about two hours on the bus ride listening to music. You can only listen to Palladio by Karl Jenkins X amount of times. At around 4:30, thirty minutes before my train was due to arrive, the updated time of arrival was at 1710, not the scheduled 1700. Nevertheless the train arrived at the new revised time. It was pulled by two F40-PHs, and a consist of stainless steel Budd cars, with one skyline car on it. I was glad to have been travelling on such a classic train set, such as the old Budd cars from the 1950s, though a part of me wanted to travel on the newer Renaissance train set, which although is new does not feature VIA's signature Park car (it is coupled in the summer, but the only train sets that operate in the summer are the Renaissance and the Budds travel west on the Canadian to Vancouver).
I was one of the first passengers who went out to the train, and even though normally passengers are not allowed on board until about five minutes had passed they allowed passengers on right away. I settled into my seat, which was comfortable, and took out the essential items, like my MP3 player, my book, journal, and schedule. Much to my joy VIA had a plug for my laptop. Much to my dismay my DVDs were packed in the checked luggage. And maybe it was a good thing that I did not sit there for the next thirteen hours on my laptop. But I was glad the train was not packed at all, as I feared it would be, so I was able to get a single seat. I was very cunning at this point too, I made sure that as I took out my stuff I spread it on the seat beside me, making sure that when we did enter Quebec, some random Quebecois would not sit next to me speaking nothing but French when my own faculty in that language is lacking at best.
At 1722, we departed Moncton New Brunswick, and that is when my journey home on the rails really began.
The first few hours on the rail were not too bad. I mostly gazed outside, watching Christmas lights and decorations flash by the window, listening to the locomotives' whistle, and generally listening to other people's conversations. I know it may be a little intrusive, but I sitting behind these two female students from Halifax who were going home to Toronto. They were talking about coffee shops, knitting, laughing too loud, and getting weird looks from the rest of the passengers in the car. I don't have a problem with laughter, because I am sure I had one of my friends with me I would be whooping it up.
VIA 15 arrived in Rogersville, a proud Acadian town at 1835 (schedule: 1822). I briefly went to the skyline car at Rogersville, but the company in the dome made me uncomfortable and it was really cold up there. Usually I like to venture to the dome car, but on this trip I stayed in my car for the remainder of the journey. Our next station stop was at Miramchi, where the train arrived at 1912 (sch. 1858). At this point I was not worried about arriving late in Montreal, and I was worried about the schedule because I made plans with Mikolaj to drop off the hard hat in Montreal and enjoy a breakfast before getting on the train to Toronto.
But that hope quickly vanished after shortly leaving Miramchi the train shuddered to a stop. We sat in the forests of New Brunswick for about ten minutes before the train began to slowly creep through the forests. This was the theme for the next hour, the train creeping through the forests of New Brunswick, at one point I looked out to see a VIA Rail employee checking the wheels of the cars, presumably because of the coach cars had a hot wheel on it. Another reason why we were delayed was there were points when a scraping sound could be heard on the train's exterior. I looked outside to see ice on the trees, sometimes even accumulating enough to make the trees bend toward the ground. With the moon casting its gaze, it was beautiful enough.
The train arrived in Bathurst at 2132 when it was supposed to arrive at 2009. What complicated matters were the fact that at this stop the smokers from the Skyline had to go for a break, and we sat in the station far too long. I could not believe their ignorance, VIA was trying to depart on time but these smokers kept us sitting in the stations.
We however did depart, and I was glad that the next few stations would be "Stops on request" stations, and we did pass through the first, Petit Rocher without stopping, but for the next two--Jacquet River and Charlo--we discharged passengers. The scenery of the Gaspe and of the Baie des Chaleurs was breathtaking, if only I had planned this better and could have seen it in light, and not the pitch black of a dark December night. With the moon overhead casting its light on the ice on the bay made up for the fact I could not see anything. The train arrived in Campbellton, a town near the Quebec border on the Restigouche River, at 2310 (Sch. 2150). Here the train took on Irving gas and the smokers could indulge themselves again, while the passengers on the train just waited to get going. And soon we did, crossing the Restigouche into Matapedia, Quebec. Entering Quebec meant it was time to change my watch, going back to the Eastern standard time I would once again need getting used to. I naively thought we would also gain time by crossing timezones, but once again I was wrong on that regard.

Attempts

The town of Matapedia is the first station in la belle province. It is at this point as well that the train once again shudders to a stop so the crew can couple VIA 17, The Chaleur, from Gaspe as from this point on, so the final destination for both trains is Montreal's Central Station. As I was sitting there in the coach car, I was wondering why we had to couple to the Chaleur. The crew on board VIA 17 could have made a decision to continue on to Montreal without the Ocean, and then we could have boarded a few passengers and be on our merry way making up for lost time.
Until I realized that would not make any sense at all. There were two reasons why I thought it would have been a bad idea. The first is we had refueled in Campbellton, obviously refuelling for the gruelling task that the locomotives would have to exert in order to pull at least seven to nine more cars, especially since the section of track to about Riviere du Loup is known for its curves in the Matapedia River valley. A second, and far more obvious reason, was the schedule had this train operating as conjoined to Montreal. It would not make sense to have one part without the other.
Now you have to understand that this ride was an overnighter, and it was about eleven at night by this point. VIA had already passed around the blankets and pillows for us Comfort class passengers, and I had put up the footrest so as to sleep. Because of my height it is difficult to find a perfect position. So I fell asleep just as the train was approaching Amqui, and then woke up around Rimouski. I was amazed I actually did fall asleep. Everyone else in the car was also sleeping, except there was one person, who was sitting across from me, who like me attempted sleep. And like me, was failing, at points I looked over at him and wondered how anyone could curl into the fetal position and be comfortable on a train. Along with the fact that you were sitting trying to sleep, the train's lights, which were on dim, frequently strobed as the locomotives gained power. Then there was the matter of the track conditions, CFMG (Chemin du Fer de Matapedia et du Golfe) and the NBEC (New Brunswick East Coast Railway) are terrible to ride on, especially on VIA's HEP equipment. Apparently (though I need to confirm this) Renaissance equipment rides better on this route.
This guy who was attempting sleep was named Will, and he was going to Kingston from Dalhousie University in Halifax. It was nice to talk to someone during the trip, and he was not a bad person to talk to. I fear I was worse, there were moments when I felt like someone would wake up and tell us to be quiet so sometimes our conversations would trail off to a state of nothingness. I found out that he wanted to go into film, and we both promised to look out for each other, though I doubt we will ever cross paths again. It gave me comfort to see that I was not the only student from Ontario who was crazy enough to take the train overnight. In fact there were a few Ontarians in the car, those female students who were also from Halifax were going to Toronto. I was worried that they would be on the same car as me on the train to Toronto.
Once again, however I fell asleep shortly after we left Riviere du Loup, at around 0453 (sch. 0232). This town marks the final jog that one has to make from the Maritimes to the West, the point that Autoroute 20 from Montreal and Quebec meets Autoroute 85 which heads southerly towards Edmundston, NB and eventually onto to Fredericton.
I once again fell asleep as the train entered CN trackage once again, passing through the towns of La Pocatiere, and Montmagny, just waking as we arrived into the town of Charny, located across the river from Quebec City. But I was glad that we were only about four hours from Montreal. Though there was the little matter that I knew I would be missing my connection on VIA 57 at Montreal, I knew VIA would be taking care of me. As long as I did not sleep on the floor of Central Station or was bussed to Toronto instead of taking the train, I was happy.
Charny also is the eastern end of the Quebec-Windsor Corridor so I knew that the train would now be expected to conform to the speed limits, which as you would guess about ninety miles per hour, and man did we speed along through Quebec. Just as we pulled into Drummondville, I heard my first announcement from the crew, they explained why we were late (the ice storm caused the NBEC to place a speed restriction), what my connecting train was (VIA 61 @ 1145), and the procedure for getting the luggage as my train did not checked luggage, which would mean lugging my heavy carry on and my packed luggage through the station. But this meant I would still be able to see Mikolaj as my train would arrive with some time to spare. I had just hoped he had not left the station, after all my train had been delayed by about two hours, and I still had to give the hard hat to him. A part of me said don't worry about it, another part say he had probably already left to study for exams. I still hoped for something to happen.
I was finally looking at the scenes of central Quebec, still divided by the signorinal lands, and it was wonderful to see something again. For the past twelve hours spent in darkness the only things I could see were the silhouettes of mountains and the rivers. I could not tell if there was snow on the ground or not, though I was happy to see it again when I awoke that morning. Leaving Fredericton and Moncton, there was no snow on the ground. Seeing Mont St. Hilaire, located about twenty minutes outside of Monreal, is always breath taking, it always amazes me because this is a mountain in the middle of a plain, just rising out of nowhere.
When we arrived at St. Lambert, the last station before crossing the St. Lawrence and entering Montreal, the train stopped for a passenger who was connecting with Amtrak's Adirondack to New York. It was neat to see these two trains stopped beside each other. One pulled by a sleek, powerful locomotive with modern coaches behind it, the other pulled by three locomotives whose primary function is not speed but practically in moving passengers over vast distances and historic coaches behind them. I just thought the difference between these two networks were amazing, and although I have been able to judge Amtrak yet, I would have to say that the crew aboard this train kept the standards that VIA is known to be stringent on.
And so as we left suburbia behind and crept across the Victoria bridge over the boiling waters of the St. Lawrence River, the skyscrapers welcomed me to the city of Montreal. At long last, I thought. Consulting my schedule, we arrived at 1015, when our scheduled time of arrival was 0815, which was not too bad, considering near Rimouski we were about three hours and fifteen minutes down the hole. The train slowly crept through the trackage into Central Station. The moment that the train stopped in the station, I was glad that a part of my trip was done.
The second part would wait for a small break in la ville du Montreal. And so I walked alongside the Ocean, the first part of my journey, carrying my backbreaking carry on (why I load so much stuff on it I'll never know!) up into Central Station's main concourse where, just like he said he would be waiting for me, Mikolaj stood there with a smile on his face. I was glad to see a friendly face after travelling alone for the past day, since parting with the Crossers in Moncton and leaving STU.
Montreal's Central Station is beautiful, not as grand as Toronto's, but beautiful in its own way. The station had won a few awards for the station's concourse in its day, and connecting all around where Les Halles de la Gare, a shopping concourse that Montrealiers have built in order to shop even in the winter, which I am told could be very nippy indeed. Toronto's Union Station does not have some sort of concourse, even though there have been plans in the past to complete some sort of revival of the station, plans have always fallen through. The only concourse that Toronto has is the GO concourse, with a McDonalds and a Cinnabon. In the Halles de la Gare, however, I was able to eat a delicious crepe breakfast. After not eating any supper (well Sobey's Tornado sandwich) this was the most delicious thing I ate in a long time (because let us face it we all know cafeteria food is not the most delicious thing in the world). I had wished Mikolaj could have given me a little tour of the city of Montreal, but there was no time. Actually we could have, but I forgot I needed to collect my luggage until we got up to the street level, making the Cathedral of Mary, Queen of the World the only sight I saw that day in Montreal. Thus, Mikolaj and I went back to the baggage collection, where my bag did not turn up amongst the initial burst of baggage from the train. I was worried that VIA lost my bags and had been dropped off in some random town in Quebec like Trois-Pistoles! Which would not have surprised me anyways, I have a bad track record with my luggage being lost anyways, once on a trip to the Czech Republic my luggage was sent to Slovenia instead of going with me home. I later uncovered my bag, after eating breakfast with Mikolaj.
As for the hard hat that I almost forgot in Fredericton, it was handed off to Mikolaj, and the only business I had to conduct was transacted. Because let's face it, if I had forgotten the hard hat in Montreal, the chances of me uncovering it before my train to Toronto departed was slim to none.
But when it came down to it, I was just glad that I had arrived in Montreal, albeit two hours late, and my journey was now about six hours from being completed. I had left one province, entered another, and was about to enter my home province after four months of university in Fredericton.
Many happy returns indeed.
***********
This concludes this account of the first part of my journey.
Fredericton to Moncton--Acadian Bus lines
And Moncton to Montreal on VIA 15 The Ocean

PART II: Montreal to Grimsby ON via Toronto on VIA 61 and VIA 95

VIA Rail Trip 2007: A Corridor Run (Ottawa to Grimsby)

2008-11-20T13:12:00.004-04:00

I have made it my lifetime goal to travel at least once a year on a train in Canada. And in 2007, I was able to finally able to travel on a corridor train.
My family and I had just spent a lovely week in the capital city of Ottawa, one of the most beautiful cities in the country. We had gone to the usual attractions: the National Gallery, the Museum of Civilization, the new War Museum, and of course Parliament. I loved seeing the Renoir in the gallery, I wished I saw the Chinese exhibit that was on at the Museum of Civilization, and the War Museum is simply the most inspiring building in all of the country. I am not a big war buff, that title belongs to my brother, but I really enjoyed this museum, not only the architecture, but the space itself. If you have not been (personally I would to take everyone in the country to see it), you definitely need to go. Another purpose of my week in Ottawa was to check out Carleton University's campus. I really enjoyed it, it was nice, but in all honesty when I had found out at St. Thomas in Fredericton, I had dropped all my wishes to go to Carleton and ended up in the east instead of the west. Frankly, I do not regret my decision.
So on an August day, I, for the first time all alone, boarded VIA 45 at Ottawa's train terminal and prepared to be amazed with the travel experience that is the Corridor.
We left Ottawa on time, and passed through the south of this city, past the malls and over the Rideau Canal and river. The first stop the service made was at VIA's newest station in the system, Fallowfield, a minute early. From there the train raced through eastern Ontario, the horns on P42 engine number 912 clearly heard in my seat at the back of the train. Once we got to Smith's Falls, however, out on time performance was sacrificed as he had to wait for VIA 42 from Toronto as past Smith's Falls there is only single track. We therefore, arrived in Brockville six minutes late, Ganonoque seven minutes, and Kingston eight minutes late. It was at this point I knew we would be arriving Toronto at least ten minutes late, but my prediction was futile.
Once we had left Kingston, our train slowed to a crawl for no apparent reason, and in fact there was no announcement made why we were travelling so slowly. It came as no surprise then when we arrived in Belleville fourteen minutes late. After this station, we would not be stopping until Oshawa, on the outskirts of Toronto, so our train roared through southern Ontario along Lake Ontario passing by small towns and freight trains heading east. Our arrival in Oshawa was about seventeen minutes late, and we made up time to stop at Guildwood fifteen minute late. Our final arrival in Toronto's Union Station was at eleven minutes past five, only fifteen minutes late.
The next, and final, leg of my trip was from Toronto to my hometown of Grimsby. VIA does something strange in Toronto, rather than let the cars be vacuumed, the railway allows the cars to sit there in Union as the next train. In my case, VIA 45 had become VIA 95, and I would not have to move into the station itself, just pick up my bags and move through the train to a new car, and lo and behold it was a VIA 1 car. I sat down in these wider and relaxing seats, watching as fifteen minutes later my fellow travellers boarded the train. Our train left Toronto at 5:49 PM, five minutes past the schedule, and made our stops at Oakville and Aldershot both four minutes late. I disembarked at 7:05 PM, seven minutes late at the small shelter in Grimsby, where my family was not waiting for me. As I was told later, they had got in traffic from Oshawa all through Toronto, even though they had left Ottawa before I did.
I was quite disappointed when I did not see them, because one of my greatest joys in travelling is that someone will always be there at the end...waiting for you.
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My next documented train trip will be on December 13th 2008, as I take VIA Rail between Moncton, NB and Grimsby, ON via Montreal, QC.
I will update too my flight from Toronto to Fredericton via Ottawa as well.

Part V: Grimsby to Sudbury aboard VIA Rail

2006-08-17T12:24:00.000-03:00

On August 15th, I embarked on a journey that was a highlight of my summer. I travelled courtesy of VIA Rail Canada, from Grimsby to Sudbury (Jct.) Ontario. My mother, brother and I waited for VIA 90 from Niagara Falls to arrive, to make a connection to VIA's The Canadian when we got to Toronto. The start of the trip was not the one I expected, #90 was late by five minutes when it pulled in at 7:30 AM, and that point, I had a seeking suspicion that our train would be late when it pulls into Toronto. After passing through the downtown of Hamilton, and through Bayview, we pulled into Aldershot at 0803 (4 mins late). At this point, maybe we were going to arrive on time, or close to. It did not come to pass. We pulled into Oakville, about eight minutes late, at 0821 (compared to the scheduled 0813). We slowed to a crawl through the yard, and even after, the train did not speed up until Clarkson. As we passed through Mimico, we met GO Train upon GO Train earnestly preparing for the commuter rush. About three minutes before we arrived on Toronto, our Service Manager gave us the list of connections that were possible. Our connection, aboard VIA 1, was at Gate 9. After we arrived and we ran down (we only had a 10 minute connection), we got into the line at Gate 9, but were told as we show our Comfort class tickets to a woman who I assumed to be the attendant for Silver and Blue passengers, to get into a line at Gate 8. We were so confused, because we were told that the line we were in was not for 8, but was for 10! After several confusing moments, we were ushered up to the awaiting Canadian. As I hurried alongside the train, I noticed that the first few passenger cars were full. There were maybe two or three double seats available. Our coach car for this leg of the journey was #8107. As climbed aboard, our coach car was completely booked! There were no pairs left, and for a good 10 minutes, I was sitting next to a total stranger. My mother luckily got a hold of the SM so my brother and I could sit together. We left Toronto at 9:15 AM, and after passing through Toronto and making all the switches,we finally headed north on the Bala Sub. For the next hour or two, we sped up and slowed down to a complete halt, and then we took the sliding for a Eastbound freight at Brechin East (MP 72). Coupled with the fact that the train left Toronto 15 minutes late, made our arrival time in Washago 11:40 AM (32 mins late). So we continued on our merry way, getting to Parry Sound South (on the CP tracks), at 1:30 PM (again 32 Mins late). Fro that point I though we were going to arrive about 1/2 hour late. Later I found out that our SM told a passenger what I long expected: we are going to be 30 to 45 mins late! But from my perch in the skyline, I could see that the engines were been pushed to their limits and we flew through the directional running section. While we were sitting in the Skyline, the SM asked everyone if there was any one getting off at Sudbury. My brother and I got up and as I got out of my seat, I banged my head on the centre aisle way. All through the dome, a collective OHHHHH went through and I retreated, ducking my head under while descending, and wondering if the domes are made for tall people. When we got to Sudbury Jct, I looked at my watch. This was such good news. I was three minutes early! We arrived at Sudbury at 3:55 PM! It was the best improvement that I have ever seen on VIA, and without a doubt, without the directional running, our train would have been close to the SM's prediction of a 30-45 mins. late arrival in Sudbury. The last time I travelled to Sudbury, we arrived at 8 PM, and so I was extremely pleased to arrive close to the scheduled arrival time. As the 26 car consist rolled around the bend, the mournful cry of the whistle could be heard. It was saying adieu.
********************************
Consists:
VIA 90: P42 919 + 4 cars (I was in car #3354, seat 37 window)
VIA 1: See Mr. Lubinski's post Re: VIA #1 Consist, August 15, 2006 (I was in car #8107)
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Next Train trips:
1) Grimsby to Ottawa/Montreal/Quebec City
2) Grimsby to Vancouver
3) Grimsby to Prince Rupert BC
4) Venice Simplon Orient Express
5) Sydney to Perth (Indian Pacific) or Adelide to Darwin (The Ghan)

Part IV: Wien (Vienna) to Praha (Prague) to Toronto

2006-04-17T14:55:00.000-03:00

It was five in the morning was dark. It was five in the morning!!!??!!! And I was getting up????? Was I back in Grimsby? No, I was still in Wien, but today would be longer than a school day. It would also be more tiring, more stressful, and more sad. It was the day I say goodbye to Europe and hello Canada. As much as I missed my home and native land, I love Europe with its culture, its history, its architecture and its music. ITS CLASSICAL MUSIC! And so, it was off to Wien's Flughafen Schwechat, to check in for our short hop to Praha, where we would connect for the longer ride home to Toronto. The check-in was horrendous, and again we were so early our feet hurt from the standing. When we were checked in, we learnt that our flight was being held up for us. We were departing 15 minutes late at this point. After a hurried run through the terminal through passport control and down to security screening, it was onto a bus to take us out to our small turboprop awaiting us on the tarmac. As we waited for the plane to finish loading our luggage, I was wondering how they were going to fit 25 instruments, and 44 pieces of luggage on the plane, and was thinking that someone's bags will get lost. Did my prediction come true? You'll have to read on to find out. The flight on this small plane was a wonderful experience, and there was hardly any turbulence. Prior to landing, we were all served a meat sandwich with orange juice. I spilt the orange juice all over myself. What a Klutz! We arrived in Praha's Ruzyne airport about 10 minutes early, and our connecting flight was going to leave in 2 hours. I thought we had plenty of time, but I was wrong. Before you knew it, we were at the screening area with our plane again being held for those tardy kids from Blessed Trinity High School in Canada. Security was a little strange, as they demanded to open my bag and stare at my bottle of pop like they never saw Fanta before. Their "magic wands" detected anything with the slightest trace of metal, my watch, my jean belt. Odd, in Canada, the machine never beeped for that stuff. Who is behind the times? My seat was another window seat, and this time I could look down and see the Atlantic. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and I hope that the ride would be smooth. For dinner, served over the UK, I had the Chicken with a slice of chocolate cake, and a side cucumber salad I did not care for. I watched the ocean go by as I watched Mr and Mrs Smith on the screen. After about half a hour watching this movie (and I was surprised it lasted this long), I went on to bigger and better things: my classical music on my MP3. They served more drinks and when the plane was flying over Newfoundland, the clouds rolled in, and I would not see my native land until Quebec about a hour later. Soon, the plane started to descend (my least favourite part of the whole plane ride), and my ears popped like crazy. We had touched down in Montreal, about forty-five minutes early. To my surprise, since we left about thirty minutes LATE. We chased the sun even faster as we arrived in Toronto about fifty-five minutes, in fact, we were so early that our plane circled around the airport once over Burlington and the escarpment. The plane touched down on Runway 24-L, sound familiar? It should, this is where the Air France flight crashed last summer in a torrent of a thunderstorm, luckily we arrived the opposite direction (hence the turn), and the weather was sunny and warm. I was back home. But not truly home in Grimsby, because we still had to go through customs, collect our luggage and then get to our bus. Customs was a relative ease, but the luggage claim was horrendous. After a few brief moments, there was an announcement: "Czech Airlines Flight 109 from Prague passengers, there is lost baggage. Please report to the Czech Airlines counter." Some baggage started coming, then it all stopped. I did not have my baggage, and neither did fifteen others. My prediction was right. Turns out our luggage was sent to Slovenia instead, how could it go south when it was supposed to go north with us? Filling our the mountain of paperwork, I realized that I had no uniform shoes, no uniform and no chance of getting it by tomorrow. I sadly trudged over to my group as we waited for all the others to fill out their paperwork. One good thing came out of this: I would not have to carry my luggage through the crowded Terminal 3. And so came the end of the trip, the bus came around six, and we home by seven. The trip of a lifetime was over, my appreciation for the art of classical music had grown, and I was bitten by the elusive travel bug. But there was one thing I would always remember: everything must come to an end, and so did this trip. And so too, must this account come to an end.
"Plaudite Amici, Comoedia finita est."
Adam Ulrich Rinne
Writer of this very long account.
Thanks for reading. Sometimes pictures are worth 1000 words. But I wrote close to that.

Part III: Salzburg to Wien (Vienna)

2006-04-17T14:33:00.000-03:00

I really disliked the fact that the trip has to come to such an abrupt end, or it is close to the end. We were about to leave the Mozart city of Salzburg and head to the city where all composers make a pilgrimage to. This is of course, Vienna (Wien). Again we took the Autobahn along the Alps, which later transformed into gently rolling hills that these eastern slopes are known for. Again, we passed by Linz, and soon after, we had to make a lunch stop, legally required by European law for all bus drivers, at Rosenberger's restaurant. It is like the equivalent of Swiss Chalet and the Marche in Toronto. After fueling our tanks, we continued on our merry way to Wien, and arrived four hours later atop a hillside hostel, looking down on the Imperial city. We had a lovely view of a smokestack, interestingly enough, Wien is a less polluted capital city. Take that Toronto. After a meal of some sort of potato and stewing beef product in a gravy sauce that hardly anyone touched. It was repulsive to look at. We left for the Volksoper and a better dinner somewhere in downtown Wien. The Opera was not fun at all, there were no translators and the language made you wonder what was going on. You can not tell. The music was better. I literally started to doze off in the theatre while they were performing. Rude, yes. But if there is not excitement, I pepper sleep over all other options. Dinner after the opera was at this Fancy, candlelit Pizzeria. I ordered a pizza with ham, not pepperoni, and cheese. It was mouth watering to look at, and it was mouth watering when I ate it. After dinner, we went back to the hostel for sleep. And we woke up the next morning at 6 AM! Great sleep I thought as I fell asleep in my cereal. Really, I did fall asleep. Breakfast was done, now on to the main attraction: a tour of Wien. The paraded through the State Opera house, decorated in its cream and red colours, portraits of Austrian composers, and its magnificent Facade. Our large group spilt up and we left on a walking tour past the Hofburg Palace, down broad streets, past monuments, and up to Stephensdom (St. Stephen's Cathedral). Where we turned south back to our bus. Phase II: Bus tour of Wien. Taking the Ringstrasse, we past the Arcopolis that is the Austrian National Assembly, a Cologne-like cathedral, the Rathaus (not parliament, city hall), and past the Donnaukanal. Soon we approached the UNO City, where the UN houses several departments, a complex that nearly bankrupted the city, and the blue Danube. The Donnau is the longest river in Europe, stretching from Germany to the Black Sea. I wanted to waltz Strauss' Blue Danube over the bridge. Then it off to mass at Stephensdom where it was all in German, and communion is a free for all, no organized lines were formed. The choir and Brass Quintet had a performance here, and they sounded immaculate in that cathredal. It was beautiful and inspiring. After the performance, I was determined to get my hands on an Austrian treat with a latte. I got my latte, but there was no treats. My trip to Europe was mainly for the desserts, but I only had one in Praha. Sad. Again we boarded our coach for the Rococo palace of the Hapsburgs, Schronbrunn, where we enjoyed a tour of this magnificent Versailles-like palace. Its great hall, where I waltzed Strauss' Blue Danube, was my favourite place in the palace. Luckily, we did not have a dinner at the Hostel and were going to the Rosenberger's Marche-like restaurant. It was delicious, but we were rushed out and I did not have time to eat my waffle. It was time to go to the Haus der Musik. It was an interactive "fun house" that is extremely modern, and there are exhibits on how music is heard, what different scales will sound like as they go up and down the octaves. This was our final museum tour as we would leave tomorrow. On the way back to our hostel, there was a wonderful rendition of "Down by the Bay", only some of the people at the back of the bus changed it to "Gamble by the Bay". Mr. Gamble was one of our chaperones. There was one verse that went. "Down by the bay, where the watermelon grow, back to my home, I dare not go. For if I do, Vladimir would say: Ze bus, Ze Bus is coming. (Vladimir was our tour guide and he was pretty good). We were howling all the way through Wien. It was the best bus ride ever. Considering it was our last night in Europe and I was sad to be going home.

Part II: Praha (Prague) to Salzburg

2006-04-17T14:29:00.000-03:00

After two days in this magical city, we left Praha for Salzburg, in Austria. In the south of the Czech Republic, the landscape rolls along, withan occasional tree, and is mostly agricultural. We stopped for a lunch break in the medieval town of Cesky Budejovice, whose square is exactly a perfect rectangle, with each direction facing a different direction. Some of the other attractions of this town includes the Black Tower, and If I stood in the middle of the square, I could theoretically say that I was in the middle of the world. We left this town for the Austrian/Czech border, where we had to show them our passports, and they waved us through. Against the border, Austria seems like the Czechs to the North, but there are hints of hills that rise higher and higher. This was start of the Alps our tour guide told us. We drove to Linz, were we reached the Autobahn (literally the Car Railway...only without speed limits, and controllers watching every move). We nearly were subject to a crash twice! And here I was thinking my mom drives better than this! This was so shocking. I fell asleep on the bus, and I missed most of the landscape to Salzburg; luckily, I woke up as we approached Mozart's city. To drive into the town, you have to bypass some mountains; some of them are stuck in the middle of the city, so they had to build around it. The first thing you will notice will be the impressive Fortress Hozensalzburg (Festung Hozensalzburg). We got to our hostel, and it was clean, I guess that is what matters, and later that night we go on a Walking tour of Salzburg. What is with these Night Tours? Salzburg is called the Rome of the North, and the Mozart City. It was evident, all you saw was Mozart, and many churches, some being rebuilt three times, one church, the Francisican church (built in the 8th Century AD). The next day, I was so happy. Not only would we see Mozart's houses, walk around on the Sound of Music tour, but we would go up to the Fortress for a dinner and concert. I was waltzing down the street, literally. The houses were amazing, but we were rushed out of the Gift Shoppe and I could not buy anything. So, the fact that we could not take pictures inside the houses. I was a little sad, but every moment we edged closer to the concert. And that's what drove me forward. Soon, before I knew it, we were back at the hostel, changing for our night above the town. The minutes counted down and soon we paraded off through Salzburg to the Funicular to ascend to the Fortress for dinner and the concert. Dinner was beautiful, literally, with the type of food you see on the Food Network. After dinner, we climbed up to the top of the fortress to the Prince's Chamber where we found our seats. The Concert was amazing; there were only five musicians, all playing Mozart’s classics. After the concert was done, I waltzed and skipped down the streets of the slumbering city of Salzburg. But not after the Funicular broke, leaving us stranded on the top of the mountain. So much for that European technology I think so much of. I left Salzburg with my heart still in my throat.

Part I: Toronto to Praha (Prague)

2006-04-17T14:25:00.000-03:00

Well I'm back!And I just flew in from Austria, and boy are my arms tired!Actually, it was the Czech Republic that I flew in from and it is farther than Austria.But here is my trip, my fabulous trip that spanned one week, two countries, and three magical cities.
I left my home on Monday the 13th for my school to do a little trip prep, lunch, kisses and hugs. At around Noon, our coach came to whisk us off to the Airport. When we arrived, we soon learnt that our flight on Czech Airlines has been delayed 2 hours, which turned into 4 hours. All because of some unseasonable thunderstorms and rain. Before we could proceed through customs, we had to check in, and I go stuck with the heaviest piece of equipment that we had our tour, the Choir’s piano. The wait to board the plane made me anxious. My legs were so tired, because, save for maybe a ½ hour lunch break, we were standing all day. I wanted to get the flight over and done with. At around 10 PM, the call came through the terminal for passengers aboard Czech Airlines Flight no. 103 were to check in. My seat was 25-D, which was in the back, way in the back, but at least I was sitting next to my group and not to someone who was going to snore in my ear. After boarding, we settled in for the short hop to Montreal, where we boarded more passengers. We did not leave Canadian aerospace until about 1:30 AM! For supper above the sea, I ate a delicious chicken and rice dinner. For my viewing pleasure I watched J-Lo in that comedy “Monster-in-Law”, and when the sun arose, I was standing there (after crawling over my seat mate), looking at a serene scene over the Atlantic with the sun crawling over the clouds. It was so beautiful. But as much as I tried to sleep, I could not. So nine and a half hours later, we arrived in Prague (Praha) to meet our coach and begin our tour of this enchanting city. While still in the terminal at Praha’s Ryunze Airport, I was reunited with the piano. I did not want to be stuck with this piano for another moment. And yet I had to wheel it out of the terminal, while trying to keep my carry-on on my shoulder. My hands were so red. After a fifteen minute drive through a part of the city not renowned for its beauty, we got to the part of the tour where the walking would begin. We started underneath Prague’s castle on the hill, and meandered through Malá Strana (Lesser Quarter) to crossover the flowing Vltava (Moldau), on the enchanting and medieval Karluv Most (Charles Bridge). While we were on the bridge, it started to snow. We left Canada in rain, but it was snowing in Praha, where I expected a warmer climate. Great! We walked through the delightful quarter of Praha known as Staré Město (the old town). Some of the most beautiful sights, such as the Astronomical clock, and the Old town Square are the most important feature in this quarter of Prague. After walking through the old town, we came into Nové město(New Town), with the main attraction being the busy and popular Wenceslas Square. We were also supposed to go through the Jewish quarter (Josefov), but our flight was late arriving in Praha, and we needed to check in. After parading through town to our bus, the tour concluded with several of us nursing our cold hands, and feet. We went to our hotel; I lost my key, ate dinner, and could not fall asleep. The beds were not comfy at all. My first sleep in Europe was not a pleasant one. The next day we went to Mozart's Villa Betremka, the place where he finished the opera Don Giovanni, which was followed by a performance in St. Nicholas' Church. There was no heater installed, so we froze ourselves nearly to death trying to play "Clash of the Ironclads". An important visitor was there to see our performance, the Ambassador to the Czech Republic, Mr. Bruce Jutzi. After our performance, we left to sight see the city in small groups, and I really kicked myself in the pants for not trying out their Metro, going to Welceslas Square or back to Karluv Most. I tried out a pastry, my first in Europe, and boy it was amazing. A nice tea would have gone good with it. At the end of the day, we finished out Praha with a night with a traditional Czech meal complete with dancing, and authentic Czech instruments. I really messed up when I learnt that there were Norwegians there too, and I could have danced with them. I retreated back into my hotel room, and slept. That night I dreamt of a Norwegian scene with me and a blond girl. If someone was standing over me, they would have noticed my smile lighting up my face.