Christmas & New Year on the train - part two

0945 Christmas morning and we’re in Foleyet, Ontario. Boy, is it quiet. No sign of life other than us. Not even a dog barking.

For a confirmed city dweller, the solitude is a bit unnerving, although my pained expression is perhaps more result of the cold.

In the afternoon, we’re in Hornepayne, another isolated settlement. As we’re running early, we have nearly three hours to explore. This is the main street.

I talk with a Hornepayne resident. The population, she says, is declining and all the kids want to do is leave. What do young people do for entertainment? “Make out at the gravel pit.”

I like this ‘sled parking’ sign.

Bar a few passersby in pickups, a large part of Hornepayne’s population seemed to be testing out new toboggans on the hill above the train.

One of the VIA attendants – on the right in this shot – ‘borrowed’ a tray from the dining car and turned it into a temporary sled.

A few hours later, the usual Christmas dinner is followed by traditional railway plum pudding. Just enough Christmas for my liking.

Boxing Day in Winnipeg and seriously cold. Even the local VIA employees say it’s cold, but, being a know-it-all Torontonian, I’m determined to get to the corner of Portage and Main, reputed to be the coldest intersection in Canada. Here’s Portage Avenue at 0930 with hardly a car in sight.

And people in the few nice, warm cars are likely laughing at the idiot, freezing tourist taking a self-portrait.

Taken a few hours later while thawing out in my cozy bedroom. This is Portage La Prairie and a reminder of the small town railway stations which once, with their local chitchat, potbelly stoves and telegraph agents, were at centre of so many communities. Happily, this one has been saved.

December 27 sunrise over the Prairie. As at sea, the best part of the day on a train is the very early morning.

Overnight snow has accumulated between the cars, which makes walking to the dining car a series of quick and chilly dashes.

A memory from childhood is of lying in my berth listening to the locomotive’s whistle in the night and the clanging of railway crossing signals.

Later, as the plains go on and on, I listen to my iPod on which, among much else, there are seventeen podcasts of Garrison Keillor's 'The News from Lake Woebegon'. Wonderful for travelling.

Nightfall west of Edmonton.

In its heyday, the Canadian was a crack express and freight trains gave way. Now, freights have priority. The train was running very late, so the Rockies were crossed in darkness, which for those only going one way defeats the purpose of the trip. In another post I’ll hope to have pictures from my return. For the time being, I’ll cheat and include one shot from a previous journey in 2005. This was taken just east of Jasper.