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"If you can get the time off, my daughter Johanne announced, I'm taking you on a trip for a week this summer, my treat, you pick the place." "Hummmmmm.. very nice, of course I'll get the time off but to pick one place wont' be easy." My first thought is Ireland :), I always wanted to go to Ireland, tooooooo far though. So I settle for the Maritimes. Nova Scotia is real nice I hear and I've only been to Halifax and Springhill once, a long time ago in my wild younger days I hitchiked there with a friend. So Nova Scotia it is. Johanne says "Great! we can do the Cabot Trail, you'll love it there mom".
June 29th, I pack what I need for the trip and get to bed early. The train leaves around 7am, if it's not late. But as it seems to be customary for it to be lately, it is late, its' over an hour late. When it finally arrives, I board at Campbellton, it is a little after 8:15am.
The train leaves the station as I see familiar faces, cars, and homes pass by slowly. The sun is shining and it should be a nice day. The train is really full and I can't get a full (two) seat to myself and the young girl in the next seat, is sleeping, she has a pillow on her knees with a little radio and earphones, not much conversation there I think.
Once we are on our way, passing by Richardsville, Point la Nim and Dalhousie Jct., I lean against the window and drift in and out of a light sleep. The rocking of the train, the sound of the tracks we leave behind lets me drift into the world of dreams but the racket made by the VIARail "Hostesses", if that's what they are called, sort of brings me back to this world now and then. Weird, I think, one time when you took the train with CN, you saw black porters all over the place, then they were slowly replaced by caucasian ones but again all males. Today I see only females with VIA uniforms going back and forth, how things change.
We pull in to Moncton around noon, as I get off the train, and walk towards the station, I see people coming and going, some are hugging, some are laughing, crying and then I see my daughter coming towards me through the crowd, we hug with tear filled eyes and head for the station to pick up my bags. After another 1/2 hour wait in line we finally get the two of them and walk out. The air is warm, not hot as it should be on June 30th, just warm. While waiting for me my daughter had prepared a lunch and standing in the back of the car we eat and talk, catching up on the family news.
From this point I will let my daughter tell you about our trip, as she writes a lot better than I ever could. But keep in mind that if I dont' agree with what she says, I'll place my comments in brackets :) or maybe write my own story later. hehehe... As she says, we all see life through our own window and I'm sure her window and mine wont' always open onto the same scenes.
The Trip from Moncton to Saint John the long way around |
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