Canada 1989

Sunday 27 August — Halifax to ...

The Clock Tower

Time to re-arrange my gear to get everything I’d need for a five day train journey into the sports bag. Said my farewells in the hostel and headed off slowly towards the railway station, stopping to photograph the town clock and talk to Peter from Melbourne who shares my low opinion of the quality of Canadian backpacking gear.

Butter tarts and tea for breakfast at the station and a problem. If I check my pack through to Vancouver, they will not guarantee to transfer it to the same train as I catch from Montreal, the two hour connection time is not considered enough. The clerk pointed out that as I was travelling in a roomette, I should have enough space there and could book it through from Montreal. So I decided just to take it with me and re-arranged things again, back into the pack and the small day pack.

Last wander around the harbour-front and Historic Properties then back to the station to board the Atlantic for Montreal, 6436 and 6615 hauling a baggage car, two and a half coach cars, the other half being a bar and takeaway counter, dining car, daynighter, three sleeping cars and an observation car. The journey was uneventful with time for a stroll at Moncton where the Ocean was waiting hauled by 6412 and 6631, dinner was pleasant enough, small portions of beef stroganoff and broccoli, a half bottle of reasonable Canadian red. Time for another stroll in the gloaming at St John, New Brunswick.

I was in the bar when we reached the US border, a non-event. Stayed awake to see a couple of US stations, not much different to Canadian ones, especially in the rain. Slept well.

Monday 28 August — ... Montreal to ...

I must have enjoyed last night as I couldn’t be bothered getting up for a cup of tea in the morning. We arrived on time at Montreal. Some people came off the train and immediately formed queues for the connections to Toronto and Vancouver, almost two hours ahead, if you are travelling coach it is as well getting in early for a good seat. I cut out and headed for where I was sure I remembered a newsagent and smoke shop which sold Condor under the Place Bonaventure and I found it. Bought two packets at $5.79 each, a considerable saving on Halifax prices.

Returned to the station and had some breakfast before joining the queue with forty minutes to go. First smoke since last Wednesday and started trying to catch up an eighteen day backlog in this diary.

From Montreal to Sudbury, we were conveyed by 6449 hauling a steam generator, baggage car, bar/diner and three dayniters (rather than coach cars as a sop to the prestige of the Canadian). We left on time and were one minute early at Ottawa, but seven minutes late leaving and fifteen minutes later we stopped. About twenty minutes later, the conductor came through and announced work on the line ahead would delay us for another forty-five minutes, and muttered to a colleague that Ottawa had known about this but were only interested in clearing their platforms. In the end, we waited for well over three hours and I got rid of a fair bit of the backlog in this diary. When we did get to the problem, they seemed to be installing a prefabricated pedestrian underpass sized culvert under the line. I don’t know why they couldn’t have found a better time to do it without holding up the flagship of Canadian passenger rail services.

Then we were held up for a freight and were three hours and forty minutes late at Pembroke before we began to recover a bit to be two hours and forty minutes late at Sudbury to change trains in the dark with much confusion on the platform. The transfer took longer that scheduled and we were almost three hours late leaving, too late to be worth visiting the bar. This “real” Canadian was hauled by 6421 and 6511 hauling a combined baggage/roomettes, three coach cars, Skyline car, three sleepers, dining car, two sleepers and an observation car.

Tuesday 29 August — ... still moving ...

Still about three hours late in the morning. Just a cup of tea and a snack for breakfast. Sat in the dome for a while, still not convinced of the merits. Once they fill up with chattering yanks, the view gets a bit restricted. Train gradually got down to two and a half hours late. A few beers before dinner and again after. Met an English girl called Rosie, a statistician at Rothamstead and a Genstat expert. She got off at Winnipeg.

Wednesday 30 August — ... still moving ...

Just under two and a half hours late at Moose Jaw. a couple of cups of tea and some of my biscuits for breakfast. Smoked pipe in observation car, me and two others at the same time. Headed for the first sitting for lunch, too late to get a seat, didn’t hear a call for the second, ended up in the third with four others. While in the bar for pre-dinner drinks, the barman asked me to extinguish my pipe (new crew at Winnipeg), he, personally, doesn’t mind at all, but it’s the rules you see. I still haven’t met anyone who does object personally, oh, maybe the conductor on the Skeena.

At Calgary, I noticed that the engine had changed to 6429 and 6602, it must have happened at Winnipeg. Leaving Calgary, the train passed through a washer, the first bright thing VIA has done, or is this the only one on the system?

Rainbow trout for dinner, the alternative was chicken and ribs. My table companions were impressed by my skill at stripping the bones. I claimed I’d been practising on herring when I was five. Dinner prices had been steadily reducing as we went west, $12.05 on Sunday, $11.85 on Monday and Tuesday, $10.95 this time, all indicative of different provincial tax rates down to 0% in Alberta. However, the staff still expect a tip.

The scenery was very nice west of Banff, as it is supposed to be, but often obscured by trees. I never noticed when we went round the spiral.

Thursday 31 August — ... Vancouver

The Frazer River east of New Westminster

Still about two and a half hours late, increasing to nearly three at North Bend where they had difficulty attaching a safety light to the rear of the train. I think they ended up using a bent coat hanger. An extrovert trainman opened the top half of the doors to allow photographs but the front row hogged the view and the best I would have managed was the back of a few heads. Returned to roomette to consume the last of the biscuits.

Two hours and forty minutes late at Vancouver. Smoked pipe in the park in front of the station, then set off along Main Street in the wrong direction. Finally got downtown and decided to stay at the YMCA. They were full for the next night so I just booked for one. Showered, for the first time since Sunday morning, changed and went out for more ambling.

Three pints at a very reasonable price (for Canada) of $3.10, then I felt a bit peckish and decided to try my first Canadian curry at a place called the India House. Had a vegetable biryani (or bryani as it was on the menu), rice a bit sticky, curry sauce quite mild but pleasant enough. Ran out of appetite half way through, odd as this was my first food of the day apart from the biscuits this morning.

Friday 1 September — Vancouver

Phoned home, all’s well except Paul has a problem with his knee, possibly a trapped nerve. Checked out of the YMCA , then had breakfast there (just soup and a sandwich) before walking along Granville St where there are a number of hotels which might be reasonably priced. The first one I tried, the Cecil, was $33 so I decided to take it for two nights and see what it was like.

Dumped the pack and off round the town again. Bought some underpants at last, finally finding the right size (I thought) in the Woolco sale. Feeling a bit hungry, I headed for a pub which, surprisingly enough, featured all-day exotic dancers. Beer at $3.50 per pint suggested a premium of fifty cents for the entertainment. Novel feature here was a shower cubicle on stage, wet nude dancers seems to be the thing.

After a bit, I left and wandered back uptown. There is a railway enthusiasts shop in Water St, the first one like it I’ve come across in Canada, run by a Brit. Into another pub with exotic dancers, no shower this time, instead a fountain in the middle of the stage. A few more pints here before returning the short distance to the hotel. Didn’t go into the bar but watched TV into the wee sma’ hours.

Saturday 2 September — Vancouver

Not terribly early getting up, decided to have lunch on the way up Granville. Very tastefully presented in a small cafe. Went up the Harbour Centre Tower, thirty-odd storeys, good view all round as far as it went, a bit cloudy beyond North Vancouver. Found a tobacconist selling Condor at the first attempt so I bought some even though I haven’t yet finished the first packet I bought in Montreal. Passed an expensive barber shop, the barber looked lonely so I went in. At least his signs weren’t written in Chinese, and he did a good job.

I wandered further, down towards the railway station where a couple of seedy hotels advertise exotic dancers. The American appeared to be having the afternoon off (or maybe I looked in the wrong bar) so I went into the Cobalt. No shower. After a bit (i.e. after I’d seen round the full cycle of dancers), I wandered off back to the hotel, booked a further two nights, and went into the bar there. Much the same as the others, a fountain centre stage front, rather spoiling the view for the front row of the audience, at least for two or three in the middle. A potential fracas in the audience failed to materialise.

Sunday 3 September — Vancouver

Time for a bit of public transport. The standard fare is $1.25 and an all-day pass is $3.50. Decided to go across to North Vancouver to watch the Royal Hudson depart, take a few photos perhaps, but missed the boat. Got off the 0947 at 1003 and it took thirty-five minutes to walk to the station, just in time to see the back end of the train disappearing.

Returned to the SeaBus terminal, back across and caught the Skytrain, underground through the town centre and elevated most of the rest of the way (but not a monorail. Extended this year from New Westminster to Columbia, half way up the hill, next year to go across the Fraser on a bridge which is already completed. For lunch, a “Ukrainian Combo” in a very pleasant restaurant with plush chairs.

Skytrain back from New Westminster, got off at Granville and sought out a trolley bus, No 4 to the University of British Columbia out past the YH (thereby spying out that bit of ground for later). The driver announced the closest approach to the hostel and a couple of folk got off, obviously hostel bound plus some others who may or may not have been going there. Ambled around a bit then caught a different route back into town.

Bought a Hungarian sausage, butter tart, orange juice and milk for tea, took them back to the hotel room and proceeded to consume all but a quarter of the milk and half of the orange juice. So much for tomorrow’s breakfast and tea.

Back out and down to the SeaBus terminal intending to go back and forth to view the lights, just missed a boat so walked out round Canada Place to pass the time and suddenly realised that I would have to run to catch the next one which had sneaked half-way back across the inlet before I noticed it. At that point I decided that I had seen the lights well enough from Canada Place, and walked gently back to the hotel. More late night TV. So many channels that there’s always something to stop one switching off.

Monday 4 September — Vancouver - Labour Day

Just missed the SeaBus again. This time I didn’t walk round Canada Place, I had a cup of tea and caught the next one. A brisk walk, occasional spots of rain, along to the station, this time half an hour ahead of yesterday. Bought a ticket with a travellers cheque and stuck the change in my pocket. Decided to buy souvenirs on my return, no point in carrying them all the way up and down and round Squamish. Boarded the train, found a good window seat in the first coach and transferred the money from my pocket to my wallet. $20 short. Must have been short changed, I doubt if I dropped it. Will check when I get back.

The commentator alleges that the engine is capable of pulling 2000 tons and could haul the present train of eleven seating cars and two food service cars at 100mph but, “for your scenic convenience”, will only do 30mph today. This is one of only five CPR steam engines preserved from a fleet of six and a half thousand, though I doubt if they owned them all at once. Pleasant trip, only cigarette smoking allowed.

Squamish is a small town dominated by a big lump of granite called “The Chief” or “The Big Chief” or something like that, a rock climber’s paradise. Second largest lump of granite in the world, Gibraltar is bigger. Odd bit of VIA rolling stock in Squamish station, CPR cars without numbers, somewhat dilapidated.

Uneventful trip back, no souvenirs at the station, till was only $4 out, tough, but nicely said. So I headed off, out over the Lions Gate Bridge to take a few photos then down along the seawall of Stanley Park back to the city. Unspectacular fish and chips in Oliver’s, then back to Flash for a letch. I can’t tell if it’s the same dancers as last Friday, probable not.

Tuesday 5 September — Vancouver to Victoria

Time to move on again. I didn’t get up in time for the 0950 bus to Victoria, it was the 1150, just. More people than bus so a second one was opened just before I got to the top of the queue. Two buses full, a third not required. Unspectacular trip to the ferry terminal at Tsawassen, an artificial island at the end of a causeway. A boat sails for Swartz Bay on Vancouver Island every hour in the summer.

The bus drove into the bowels of a ship which turned out to be the Queen of Vancouver, one of a large fleet, four like this, almost 1000 tons, seems a lot for the size of the boat. We were almost half way across the Strait of Georgia before we cleared the silt-laden waters of the Fraser River, quite a clear boundary. Through Active Pass and weave through the islands into Swartz Bay. We had to re-board the bus before we docked, then were first off and hared away down the highway, arriving more or less on time at Victoria bus station.

I drifted along in the direction of the hostel, it seemed to have just opened at four o’clock and there was still a queue so I continued down to the railway station to find that that had already closed. Back to the hostel and booked in for three nights, some confusion over bed allocation was sorted out. Back out for a walk past the station and round the other side of the harbour, watched the departure of a beautiful ship, the Princess Marguerite, which I found out was a daily service from and to Seattle, the back round to the Fisherman’s Wharf where there is a fish and chips hut called Barb’s Place, almost as good as the Green Apple in Prince Rupert.

Drank some milk on the way back before dropping in to a pub a few doors up from the hostel for a quick letch at the exotic dancers (no showers here) and, it turned out, the local ladies of the street (or night), quite attractive as long as you didn’t get too close.

Wednesday 6 September — Victoria

There were ample showers in the hostel but only one toilet with two others either going in or coming out, but I managed to get in at an opportune time. Along to the railway station and failed to get a seat on today’s train, the Malahat, to Courteney, but did get one for tomorrow. The train reduces to one railcar after Labour Weekend, regardless of passenger demand I suspect.

Drifted back round the harbour and made enquiries about sailing on the Princess Marguerite to Seattle, it shouldn’t be difficult to get aboard at short notice but her season ends at the end of next week (18th). Continued out to the harbour entrance to watch the Princess Marguerite arrive, took a few photos then carried on round the coast, following Marine Drive or the shoreline beside it, as far as Oak bay Marina where I stopped for a late lunch, the tea was in polystyrene cups, “we’ve no cups, we’ve no dishwasher”, I don’t know whether they were referring to a mechanical failure or a staff shortage. Sat for a while nearby watching nothing in particular, conversed with a lady who was trying to feed a gull with a damaged wing but others kept pinching the food.

Back to the hostel for a shower and then looked for a brewery pub called the Spinnaker, which I found. I was not impressed with their Highland Scottish Ale but some of their other brews were quite reasonable, especially a Mt Tolmie Dark. I sat at the end of the bar and conversed with the barman, a couple from Portland, Oregon, who said the beer here was better than most microbreweries down their way, the manager (I think) and a local lad who, at the end of the evening, offered me a lift back into town. I demurred and walked back, smoking my pipe.

Thursday 7 September — The Malahat

The Malahat at Courtney

Arose at an ungodly hour and made my way to the station. By remembering the events of the previous morning, I was able to position myself unobtrusively to be fourth into the railcar and obtain a prime seat. Not a spectacular run up to Courteney, a stretch above an arm of the sea and a couple of bridges over gorges, but much of the view was obscured by trees. Twenty minute stop at Nanaimo for tea and egg mayonnaise sandwich off the back of a fitted out truck, about half the passengers left. Short stop at Courteney, the refreshment vehicle had no tea. Might have been better to get off at Qualicum Beach, as someone suggested in the pub last night. Nothing remarkable on the return journey.

Back in Victoria, walked round to the Fisherman’s Wharf for another halibut and chips, then dropped into a pub, Garrick’s Head, where they dispense the products of Island Breweries, slightly better than the big breweries stuff. Very quiet, perhaps because it was a bit expensive at $3.50, or maybe it was the honky-tonk piano player that discouraged customers. However, I left quite early, maybe it gets busier later.

Friday 8 September — Victoria to Seattle

Once again, an advertised $2.95 breakfast turned out to be $3.60 if you had tea or coffee. I drifted in a leisurely manner through the town carrying my pack to the lockers at the BC Stena Line pier. Booked to sail that afternoon and return on Monday morning. Then I wandered back and bought some postcards and pipe-cleaners.

Had a vegetarian lunch, curried nut-burger, at the Green Hippo and then discovered a Maritime Museum which filled the afternoon. As usual, a good few mentions of Glasgow, especially as most of the CPR steamers in this part of the world were built on the Clyde. There is a local shipyard called Yarrows but no-one knew whether it was any connection with the yard of the same name on the Clyde.

When I got back to the pier, it was to find a large queue of middle aged and elderly yanks with wives, families and baseball caps saying USS San Francisco. A reunion in Seattle having a day trip to Victoria.

Anyway, on to the boat, Princess Marguerite, built 1948 at Fairfields for the Canadian Pacific Railways, 5911 tons gross, 2378 tons net, length 386’ 8”, breadth 56’, depth 166’ and licensed for 1500 passengers. I stood up on the foredeck for a while, heard reports of whale sightings then saw one myself, then there was a dolphin under the bow, then I went to the bar for a while. Came back on deck to watch our arrival in Seattle. Looks like a nice place.

Very slow getting off the boat, narrow gangplank, I wouldn’t have minded but the hostel closes at eleven. I set off at speed along the waterfront, then cut up to First Ave and along to Union St. Couldn’t find the steps at first but finally did and descended to the hostel with half an hour to spare. No beds but they let me sleep on the sofa in the library.

Saturday 9 September — Seattle

Mt Rainier (14,411') beyond Elliot Bay, Seattle

Booked another two nights at the hostel and got a bed. A pint of milk at the hostel is fifty cents which works out cheaper than Alberta supermarkets. Went walking north on First Ave, stopped for breakfast, a four egg Denver omelette (cheese, ham, onion and green pepper) which I toiled to finish, especially as it was accompanied by fried potatoes. Cut down to the waterfront and continued north along the shore of Elliot Bay, then followed a cycle track pas the Burlington North railway yards.

Reached W Dravus St and headed for a convenience store, thinking to buy some milk to quench my thirst, but passed a bar and quickly gave in to temptation. A very nice neighbourhood bar, the name was “something Lagoon” I think, friendly people, Rainier on draught, sold by the “jar”, genuine preserving jars (they give the lids away to people with a genuine use for them) holding about 15oz. And there was football (albeit American) on the box. I staggered out about five hours later, declining an invitation to the pub picnic the following day (hamburgers, hot dogs, some salmon and forty cases of beer).

I reached the hostel at some time, perhaps mid-evening, and decided to have a short nap before going out for some late night entertainment, but when I awoke at 0130, it didn’t seem such a good idea so I went back to sleep. Don’t forget to send Kat a postcard.

Sunday 10 September — Seattle

Needed some orange juice as well as milk in the morning. Up in the Pike St Market is a cafe with a good view over the harbour and three and five cup teapots and a selection of loose teas. The five cup size was a good idea, along with some fresh fruit salad, for breakfast. Not a day for Denver omelettes.

Down by the waterfront, went in to the Omnidome (IMAX cinema) to see the Mount St Helens eruption, a bit of a fiddle ’cos they moved the film camera over a still photo of the eruption but the scenes of desolation afterwards were quite impressive. The supporting feature was Nomads of the Deep, mostly about whales. I don’t like the bits shot from a fast moving camera, eg in low-flying planes or cars, they tended to confuse my senses.

Walked a bit further south to Pier 48 from which Princess Marguerite and the Vancouver Island Princess had already sailed. Gave the rest of my cigarettes to two Alaskans and a Californian who were sitting at the end of the pier, that area seems to be a gathering place for the less fortunate in society. Back through the town heading for the Science Centre and the Space Needle on the site of the 1968? World’s Fair. Went up the Needle to admire the view, visibility not too good, snow capped mountains barely visible in the distance. Bought some souvenirs, wandered about a bit, had a mediocre lunch in Yukon Jack’s, wandered a bit more then caught the monorail back into town.

Melbourne tram 482 on the Seattle waterfront

Drifted along in the general direction of the hostel. The city centre seems a bit scruffy as they are building a bus tunnel under it and there is a great deal of road works on the surface. Back for a shower, then out for another walk, half looking for a pub. One I’d noticed earlier was already closed, another had a rough lot hanging about outside, but a third looked OK until after I’d bought a beer and sat down when I realised all the clientele were male, even the couples. I drank up and moved on. The next pub was a bit posh so I gave up and returned to the hostel. I asked for an evening chore to minimise the time it might take to get out in the morning and ended up helping to clean the kitchen when it closed, half an hour before the hostel closed.