The Trans-Canadian railroad gives its passengers a magnificent
view of some of the most picturesque landscapes of Canada. Passengers can
either enjoy the views of mountains
coated with snow and winding river-carved canyons from the luxury glass dome
seating area or from the confines of their own cabins.
I chose to spend my three day journey from Jasper to Toronto
within my own cabin, as an introvert I didn’t particularly want to try and
navigate the narrow passages of the train cars and risk getting thrown into my
fellow passengers on steep bends. This gave me a private and unrivalled seat
for the passing scenery to indulge myself in.
Occasionally the porter in charge of the car I was in would
pop his head through my door and ask if I was okay, being only sixteen and
spending a lot of time by myself in this very foreign environment. I would
assure him that I was fine, even showing him the writing that I had produced in
the few hours he had left me alone, as a goodwill gesture he would give me
little chocolates that the porters left on the pillows of the beds. I must’ve
eaten about twenty of those chocolates in three days. It was very thoughtful of
him.
When we weren’t gliding alongside the roaring white water
rapids of various rivers, we’d be sat in a bypass waiting for eternities as freight
trains ambled past; apparently in Canada rail freight is more important than
tourists. I would take this opportunity to wander to the outside viewing
platform to get some fresh air without getting bugs stuck in my teeth or my
hair restyled to rival Frankenstein’s bride.
Every now and then I would happen to run into this boy who
was on the same holiday package as my family, his name was Will and he was from
Hawaii, a fair way away from England. He was a quiet lad and he wasn’t much
younger than me so we’d occasionally exchange stories about our different
childhoods; mine of rainy English summers spent in woodlands and his of sunny
beach holidays spent surfing the ocean waves. It was nice to have a conversation with
someone other than the porter.
The benefit of staying in my own cabin was that I didn’t
have to go to sleep at any specific time, this meant I stayed up until one a.m.
on this particular night. As I decided to finally get some sleep, breakfast
being served at the ungodly hour of eight, I glanced out the wide window next
to my bunk into the darkness. Something caught my eye in the distance, at first
I thought it was another outpost or road crossing judging by the white light
however the fact this light was pulsating and seemed to disappear briefly for
seconds at a time said otherwise.
The train continued to surge into the darkness, towards this
white light that had piqued my interest. The longer I watched it the more
convinced I was that this was some kind of outdoor light show or aircraft hanger
in operation. As the train slowed down
to sit in a passing loop again the lights seemed to have spread across the
horizon, pulsating at a faster rate than I had originally seen. We sat in the loop,
my eyes fixed on the sky where these lights seemed to now be originating from.
Lightning, I deduced a second later when the flash
illuminated the trees. It was lightning. I hadn’t seen such an active sky. The
train lurched forward, moving once more, carrying me towards the storm which
had made no noise as of yet and not a single drop of rain had fallen.
The sky lit up every few seconds, lightning crawling across
the dark clouds like a spider web woven between leaves on a tree. I was in awe,
sitting up so I could marvel at the weather England seldom saw. In a way I felt
selfish, that I was one of the only people likely to be awake at this hour and
I had a front seat to this spectacular demonstration of nature, this beauty
that I had never really laid eyes on first hand.
I felt in touch with the wilds of the country, where the
city lights did not reach so nothing was watered down by pollution, I could see
Mother Nature’s power in full swing with nothing but a pane of glass between me
and her.
The next morning I was greeted by my porter as I made my way
to breakfast.
“Did you see the storm last night?” he asked with a smile,
somehow I think he knew that I was likely to have seen it. “I don’t think many people
did, you’re lucky.”
That I was, for my parents had not seen it, nor my new
friend Will, it made me feel like Mother Nature had given me something to take
away from my trip to Canada; more than the cheesy maple leaf keyrings or the ‘I
love Canada’ shirts from the gift shop. I had witnessed the hidden character of
the country and that made the seven hour flight home worth it.
