If I were to choose a time to walk in the woods, this would not be it. But here I am, walking along Mosquito Creek, engulfed in the deep, dark shadows of a long winter night, straining to see two steps ahead through a hard rain.
Time on the Canadian is immaterial. Its measurement is by breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleeping, watching the world pass by from the observation deck. “What day is this?” is a common refrain. Continue reading
Putting aside the existential train schedule, the Canadian is one of the best train experiences I have had. The food, served on white linen tablecloths with real china, has been excellent. Today's brunch was a tasty ravioli with lobster in a cream sauce. Dinner, a well-prepared rack of lamb. Even the shower – there's one in each sleeper car – is clean and well laid out. Plush white towels along with a bar of soap and shampoo are provided for each passenger at the start of trip.