The Backwoods

Posted on December 10, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

The camp site just outside Jasper is wooded, with cleared areas for pitches. It seems bizarre to me that so many people have opted for the rustic, non-electric-hook-up, no-hard-standing pitches and all they desire is a fire pit and a pile of wood. As long as fires are lit using the braziers provided anyone is at liberty to toast themselves outside by a roaring fire, which appears to be the favourite activity here. If more wood is required there is a pile of it waiting to be chopped and axes for kindling. You have to trust that there are no raving, lunatic axe-wielding serial killers among the camping community. Given that the summer wildfires were so devastating it’s a surprise to find that outside burning is not only allowed, but encouraged.

A fair number of our fellow campers are using tiny tents, too, so, given that the night-time temperatures are quite low they are a tough bunch!

Since our arrival I’ve slumped in the passenger seat of our van and had a snooze. When I wake something feels different. I’m less ‘floaty’. I feel a bit better. Yes- I’m still coughing, but it’s a definite improvement. I wander round to a shower facility and it’s surprisingly good for such a rustic site.

We’ve continued to use the table/bed [me] and a mattress on the floor [Husband], for sleeping. During the night I wake to the sight of Husband, struggling to get up and disorientated. I lever him upright. He’s burning hot. It’s clear he’s succumbed to the dreaded Covid, as I did. Horrors! straight away I administer Paracetamol and swap beds; now he has the table/bed and I have the floor, which is not conducive to cosy slumber. By the morning though, he has rallied and feels ok for now.

On a recce of the site, Husband has spotted a different area altogether, purpose built for motorhomes and campervans. It’s hard standing and has hook-up, as well as its own shower facilities. Better still- and bizarrely- the hard standing pitches are cheaper than the rest of the site. There is one, spare spot- which we move to, gratefully. From our new position we can see the Jasper Skytram, a glistening dot travelling up and down the mountain. But there are still no bears…not one, single distant, furry form…anywhere.

The shuttle bus stops a few yards from our van, with hardly anyone on board so we hop on and go to have a look at the town. The first thing I notice is the railway tracks, a station and a couple of huge, historic engines displayed along the roadside. We get off at what seems like the main street, although it’s soon clear that Jasper, though cute and in a stunning location, is a tiny town. What there is is also set up almost entirely for tourists, the stores selling mainly outdoor gear for walking, climbing, hiking, skiing and other pursuits, with a few gift shops thrown in, one being ‘Bearbury, which would be more amusing if there were bears…

But there is a visitor centre where we book a visit to ‘Spirit Lake’ for next day, Husband going in to reserve it while I wait outside as I’m still coughing. After a search we do find a small supermarket, tucked away between the tourist shops.

Then it’s back to site on the bus. The night is cold and we’re glad of the heater, although our neighbours are all sitting outside by their blazing log fires, knocking back wine.

In the morning when I step outside there’s a layer of frost over everything! Frost in September! This is not something we are used to in the UK. It does, however herald a blue sky and a bright, sunny day, so we anchor all loose items in the van and set out towards Jasper for our day trip to Spirit Lake.

To find novels by Jane Deans, Grace’s alter ego, search Amazon, Waterstones, Goodreads and other book sites. The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend are widely available. Visit my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063988575981

Tunnel Mountain and the Lonely Road to Jasper

Posted on December 3, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

It’s a relief to get into Tunnel Mountain campsite at Banff, another vast site, but properly in the mountains, in a beautiful setting. It’s popular and we need to queue to check in and pay our national park fees. Then we’re off around to our pitch, this time with electric hook-up. There are also clean, warm shower blocks and there’s a free shuttle bus to the town. It’s all good- except that I’m feeling worse than ever, with cold symptoms joing the fever and cough I’ve picked up, even if I’ve stopped feeling like I’ve swallowed a razor blade. A nasty, niggling suspicion creeps in; could this be the rampant new Covid variant that’s running riot across Canada? Then I remember; someone in a seat near us on the Rocky Mountaineer train was sneezing and spluttering for the two days. Hmmm…

If I have the Covid variant there’s nothing much to be done. We’re not able to access tests and we’re pretty isolated as it is. So far, Husband has shown no signs of succumbing, so he’ll be ok to enter shops etc. Retiring to bed isn’t an option, either. I decide to adopt the action we were advised to use in Iceland and stay outside away from others during the day.

But there are beautiful views from our pitch and the wildlife is lovely, with nonchalant deer roaming and tiny, cheeky red squirrels scampering in the pines. It’s also warm and sunny enough to sit outside, which is what I do.

We’ve done much better with the bookings now and will be returning here after our road trip. The next morning we’re up and dealing with the housekeeping- emptying and filling- like pros, now we know how to do it all.

We’re driving on up to Jasper, where again we have a pitch on a site. At the start of the drive, while we’re on the dual carriageway the weather looks threatening and there’s some rain, but then we find our turning without much trouble and the sun reappears. As we wend our way towards Jasper National Park the terrain becomes wilder and it feels remote. There are stretches where signs warn us there’s no phone signal and between Banff and Jasper there’s only one gas station, so it’s advisable to be stocked up on everything. In this direction there are few places to pull in and stop, although the other side seems better served and it takes some time to find a lunch stop.

It feels a long drive, however the notion of distance is different for us, coming from the UK, where we’re no more than a day’s drive from most places and in reality, the loop we’ve opted to do is not vast. But the campervan is wayward, as I’ve described and I’m glad we didn’t attempt anything more lengthy.

We arrive at Saskatchewan Crossing, the one and only place for fuel and for a limited selection of foodstuffs between Banff and Jasper. It’s almost exactly halfway and busy but we get a space, overlooking the snowy mountains. It’s all bathed in sunshine and warm enough for poeple to be sitting outside with picnic lunches, one family feeding a small baby in the seats around a map pointing out the sights. A little further along is the stunning Athabasca Glacier, a frozen river splayed out against the mountainside and glistening in the sun. Opposite is a visitor centre where a purpose-built, red snow bus does tours, but we need to get to our destination so we press on. From here the road climbs and winds but it’s without incident and at last we’re nearing Jasper.

There are several sites here, outside the town but it’s easy to locate ours, just off the road and easy to check in. We find our pitch. There’s little here except for a wood pile, a fire pit, a table and bench and a cleared area to park. We’ve had to forego electricity to get the pitch.

There’s still some sun filtering through the windscreen. Husband goes off to explore the site, meanwhile I grab a pillow, slide down in my seat where the sun is warm and close my eyes…

To find novels by Jane Deans, Grace’s alter ego, search Amazon, Waterstones, Goodreads and other book sites. The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend are widely available. Visit my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063988575981

Cold…and Hot

Posted on November 26, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

During the evening of our first night in the campervan on MaCleans camp site I begin to feel hot, then hotter…and I’m burning up. We’ve managed to concoct a meal with the help of our neighbours, who donated us a spare lighter for our non-self-igniting hob. The high temperature I’m experiencing is certainly not to due the outside air, which is cold, although one thing that does function in the van is the heater, for which we are to be very glad! The water heater and the shower seem to work, thank goodness.

Our neighbours stay outside long after dark, sitting by the log fire. The sight of camping Canadians toasting themselves by fires becomes familiar and it’s clearly a favourite activity for them as it happens wherever we go.

It’s clear I’m incubating something, so I take some Paracetamol, which eases it, and we consider how we’ll cope with the sleeping arrangement. There are two mattresses [thin, hard and cold] above the driver cab, which we do not plan to use. We knew when we booked that the van would be designed this way and had taken an optimistic view that we would cope, but we’re not going to be clambering up and down from the lofty bed.

The benches either side of the table convert to a bed, however it doesn’t accommodate two. Hmm… Since I’m not 100%, Husband volunteers to sleep on one of the top mattresses in the aisle, where there’s just about room, so we make the beds and settle down. The sleeping arrangement is far from perfect, the floor position, in particular making for an uncomfortable night.

The next morning is cold, with watery sunlight through the tall pines and I get out and stand in a patch of it.

The next challenge is to get to grips with emptying and filling the van. We’ve seen the video and we know where to stop so after stowing everything we trundle around to the van station and join a queue. Once it’s our turn we pull up by the drain and pull out the hose. The system is not like our own, where we’re used to emptying a cartridge which slots out of the side. Here there is a hose- first for the toilet waste then secondly the grey water. We learn our first lesson: ensure the valve is switched to the correct outlet before undoing the cap-

In a horrific gush, the effluent from our toilet floods out across the tarmac, to the accompanying shouts of disgust from fellow campers. Yikes! Husband manages to switch- but not before we’ve caused a substantial mess, which I must then use the water hose to clear up. We’re mortified, but were not to know and will not make the same mistake again. The water filling, more straightforward, goes ok.

We’re off back to Banff, because Husband has managed to secure us a pitch on a site in the national park called Tunnel Mountain. Besides the pitch price we must also pay national park entry and stay, but it’s a profound relief to have somewhere to park up. It’s easy enough to get back onto the main highway by retracing our steps and we’re even getting used to the van wobbles, but we narrowly avoid a serious incident as we approach Banff. The road in this direction splits and we find ourselves in a lane leading to some ticket booths- the park entrance. Somehow we’ve missed the [one] lane which is just the continuation of the road. Husband begins to reverse the van and then, at the highway, he signals right…but NO…no, no, no, no, no!! We’re on the wrong side- facing the traffic!!

There’s a lot of flashing and hooting as we make a swift reverse back round the corner, crisis averted, then look for a way. We need to turn left and take the exit road then cross the highway via a bridge, a diversion we have to take twice before we spot the one lane that’s a continuation of the highway- the extreme right, beside the park booth lanes. But at last we make it…

A Further Unravelling…

Posted on November 19, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

From the Fairfield Inn, Calgary, we’ve managed to get our first night’s campsite sorted, had a respectable meal at a nearby pub and we prepare to sleep. As I begin to drift off, a small, irritating cough sets in, interrupting my slumbers and making for a less than restful night.

In the morning we’ve a few hours left before we can collect our rental campervan from Cruise Canada, so having done our best to make tea in the plastic beakers, Husband suggests we try and get some mobile wifi working on our gadget, by visiting a nearby telecoms shop which is located in a central shopping mall. In France, we’ve become used to collecting a SIM card from Orange and it seem’s logical that we could have a similar arrangement, although by no means guaranteed.

We find the shopping mall and the store, where we draw a blank but are redirected, then redirected again to more telecoms stores. In the end we opt for a local SIM card in my phone, as nobody is able to get our gadget working. We return to the hotel where we pack up and order a taxi to the rental depot.

By the time we arrive at Cruise Canada I’ve begun to feel a little lethargic and under par. The depot is closed, presumably for lunch and we settle to wait on a bench facing the various vans and motorhomes, along with a German couple with whom we share plans. They have very wisely reserved their pitches from home, a strategy I now wish we’d adopted!

At last the place opens and soon we’re wading through pages of paperwork and agreements before being taken to ‘our’ van. We get a peremptory look along with stern warnings regarding emptying and cleaning prior to return, then we’re directed to fetch our bedding packs from an adjoining store. Other than this, it’s left to us. Husband climbs into the driving seat to have a go- he can take the vehicle for a couple of circuits of the car park, but it’s easier said than done. ‘I thought you said you had your own camper’, the weary woman showing us observes. But this, this campervan is nothing like ours, as we are increasingly to discover…

I watch as Husband lurches the vehicle around the car park, then I get in and we exit the depot in search of a supermarket. It’s immediately clear that the van cannot/will not/does not drive in a straight line, rather swerves in unnerving lunges, making steering hard work. There are, allegedly, supermarkets around here…but where, exactly? We take a few turns and then backtrack a bit, my heart in my mouth as Husband juggles the idiosyncracies of the van, the unfamiliar roads and the traffic. Yikes!

On our way back down the road I do spot a grocery store, ‘Hello Fresh!’ and we pull in and park, much to my relief. Inside we pick up as much useful shopping as we can, stow it and make our way towards what is, hopefully, ‘Highway 1’. By some miracle we get on to it and begin to exit Calgary, back on the road we came by bus- and yes- I’m relieved to spot the Olympic Ski jump, now on the left as we go out of town.

Now to locate the camp site. It should be easy enough, shouldn’t it?

I have the location of the site on my phone, yes, but we’re unused to the distances of this vast country. Coupled with the wobbly nature of the van it leads to us overshooting our turn-off by quite a bit, as we discover when we stop at the First Nations’ casino and gas station to ask where on Earth the site is.

This results in a long trek back along the highway, then a meandering journey into the wilderness. This time I’m more trustful of my phone’s navigation and we follow the tiny dot, turning where indicated, then, EUREKA! We reach the site’s entrance and drive up a winding track, then we have, in fact, arrived. There’s a car park by a store, which also serves as reception where we check in. Phew! We’re also able to supplement the lamentable equipment in our household ‘kit’, which lacks, amongst other items, a kettle and a coffee pot.

The pitch we’ve been allocated is accessed by another long, winding lane; the site being arranged in ‘loops’ off the lane. It is massive, but we get there and park up in a kind of wooded cul-de-sac, where we are almost, but not quite, alone…

Like any typical British adult, I’m gagging for a cup of tea, so I fill a saucepan [as I said, no kettle] and attemp to ignite the gas ring…which solidly refuses to comply…Hmmm…

On to Calgary

Posted on November 12, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

We’ve had two nights in Banff and we must now go and fetch our vehicle for the next ten days, which means a trip to Calgary, a couple of hours away. In order to do this we need to pack up and get to Banff bus station, where we’ll be getting ‘Brewsters Shuttle’. The bus station is smallish but it’s clear which bay we’ll need to wait at. When the bus pulls in we meet our driver, ‘Pat’ who is both jocular and informative. We’re armed with lunch from the town deli, which we’re intending to eat en route, since the journey will be over lunchtime.

The bus exits Banff and sets off along Highway 1. This is a major route, the ‘trans-Canada highway’ across all of Canada from West to East, 651 miles. Pat, the driver knows a lot about many subjects, especially geology and seems to be an expert on the local mountains. Something that astonishes me is that once we’re away from the mountains- which doesn’t take all that long, the terrain is all prairie right up to the lakes on the other side of the country. But we’re not going that far, and before long we’re entering the outskirts of Calgary, with the winter Olympic ski jump tower visible on the right. This is to prove helpful in our efforts to navigate to and from Calgary!

As we get towards the centre, Pat begins dropping passengers off at various points, mostly hotels, but he is not able to drop us at ours, the ‘Fairfield Inn’, owing to the fact that there is no access for the bus under the railway line. We get off at the Fairmont, [another Fairmont!] and must find out way to the Fairfield- which feels confusing, but after asking and using my phone we set off in the direction of the Fairfield Inn. Central Calgary looks unremarkable at this point- high rise architecture but without the pizzazz and style of Vancouver.

Trundling our cases, we trudge to the hotel, which is supposed to be part of the Marriott chain, although I’d have expected something a little more upmarket, since it’s on a side street and decidedly lacklustre. Our room is clean but not large. The fixtures and fittings are cheap and nasty and the coffee cups are plastic single-use. It is adequate, though not as good as a Premier Inn in the UK, which is bog standard for hotels. Ho Hum.

But there is internet, which is vital for us this evening, because we must reserve a camping pitch for tomorrow night and we don’t have any resources except Google to find one, whcih must not be too far to reach in an afternoon. We won’t be able to collect the van until then.

We settle to the task, then it begins to become clear that we’d overestimated the simplicity of it. We can find sites, but they are seriously busy! Not at all the ‘low season’ empty state we’d been led to believe. Most are full. It’s a blow. What on Earth are we going to do?

I search and search, then find a site- ‘Macleans’ somewhere between Calgary and Banff, which we’d been planning to return to. There are pitches, albeit without electricity, and it’s vast, but I’m not able to reserve until I’ve set up an account, which proves impossible. In desperation I phone up- and beg the woman on the end of the line to stay with me until i’ve set up an account…and…phew! I get a pitch! Now for the next hurdle… and things become trickier than ever…

Grace is the alter ego of novelist and short story writer, Jane Deans. To date I have two published novels to my name: The Conways at Earthsend [https://www.amazon.co.uk/Conways-at-Earthsend-Jane-Deans-ebook/dp/B08VNQT5YC/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2ZHXO7687MYXE&keywords=the+conways+at+earthsend&qid=1673350649&sprefix=the+conways+at+earthsend%2Caps%2C79&sr=8-1 and The Year of Familiar Strangers [https://www.amazon.co.uk/Year-Familiar-Strangers-Jane-Deans-ebook/dp/B00EWNXIFA/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2EQHJGCF8DSSL&keywords=The+year+of+familiar+strangers&qid=1673350789&sprefix=the+year+of+familiar+strangers%2Caps%2C82&sr=8-1 Visit my writer Facebook page [https://www.facebook.com/search/top?q=jane%20deans%2C%20novellist%2C%20short%20fiction%20and%20blog or my website: https://www.janedeans.com/

Banff

Posted on November 5, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

I wake in the comfortable Rimrock Resort Hotel, Banff, having enjoyed the best night’s sleep since we arrived to Canada. We are here for two nights, which means a day to explore the town, although we’ll be back.

This first look at Banff marks a transitional bit of our trip, as we’ve now finished the train journey, but is also a mini-break in itself, as we are booked to travel up Sulphur Mountain on the gondola. But it’s not until the afternoon, so we can get a coffee from the hotel’s coffee shop then get the shuttle bus, for which we have passes, down into Banff.

The bus takes us through to the centre, where we alight, right beside the tourist information centre. We’re thinking it will be useful to get some information on camp sites along the route we want to take next, although at this stage we’re confident we’ll have no trouble locating them and checking in. How wrong we can be! Inside the tourist office I find a detailed book of our route which does have sites, however we’re keen to get a road map, which proves impossible- and at no point during our entire adventure were we able to buy a simple, paper road map.

The woman helping us can provide us with a tourist map of Banff area though, which she does. assuring us that we’ll have no trouble getting into camp sites as high season has passed. How wrong she could be! She also sells us a can of ‘Bearspray’- apparently a vital piece of equipment we should not be without in the coming days. Again- wrong!

Thus armed, we get a look round at the town, which is small but very charming and also thronged with tourists. streets are all named after local wild animals, which are also depicted on pavement plates. Of course the main thoroughfare is lined with gift shops, the majority of gifts being bear themed. Bears are everywhere, on T-shirts, mugs, keyrings, ornaments, fridge magnets and anything else the Chinese could think of.

There is no shortage of places to eat and drink, besides which, a supermarket with a fine deli counter can provide us with lunch, since we’re not going to be eating in our, undoubtedly posh, undoubtedly expensive hotel. In any case we’d prefer to spend some cash in the independent places down in the town.

After a lunch in our room we set off up the road towards the gondola station, which just happens to be a couple of hundred yards away. We’re soon ushered into one of the cars as it swings into view and we’re off up the mountainside, the views getting more spectacular as we ascend. We can see our hotel below, the river and best of all, a ring of white-topped mountains. It’s a crystal clear, blue-sky day for such a jaunt. When we reach the top we’re guided out and can wander out on to the walkways which afford views all round. It is all beautiful- a pine clad, mountainous wonderland as well as sightings of cheeky marmots that don’t stay still long enough to pose for photos and dart everywhere looking for crumbs.

But there’s a limit on how long we can stay and soon our time is up. We return to the gondola and make our descent. Then it’s time to get back on the bus and go into town for a meal and a drink. The streets are still busy with tourists and there’s more to see- but we’re planning to return…

On and On and Up and Up!

Posted on October 29, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

We’re up at five am after a sleepless night in the not-very-gorgeous hotel at Kamloops, to assemble for buses to go to the station to climb back on the Rocky Mountaineer passenger train. We are seriously tired but today we’re to be in the first sitting for breakfast, which will surely lift us. There’s nothing like a few calories to gee up a flagging body. We leave our luggage in the lobby, confident, now that it will arrive at tonight’s destination before we do.

Today’s journey promises to be much more dramatic, since we’ll be travelling to and within some of the very best scenery along the route.

While we are breakfasting- enjoying treats from the same delicious menu as yesterday- we rumble out of Kamloops station past sidings and rolling stock. Some of the engines here have snow plough equipment on the front.

Soon we’re back out into rolling countryside, which becomes wilder and more rugged as we progress, the hills becoming higher, the gorges deeper. Sometimes we cross a river on a spindly bridge, the open sides dropping away in a breathless swoon of steep drop.

At last we’re high enough for proper mountains and at last, white tops, clouds swirling above- the fringes of pine trees ending where bare rock does not allow.

During the afternoon- and following another gourmet feast of lunch- some of our fellow passengers succumb to a snooze and I find myself briefly snatching the odd five minutes as lack of sleep catches up with us. But the scenery is becoming more spectacular as we roll on and I’m reluctant to miss anything.

We’re near to a town called ‘Field’ when the train does a spectacular thing. In order to gain height and pass through the mountains, it must enter the mountainside and run up a succession of three ‘loops’ in the darkness. Each loop provides a little more height. Of course, we’re unable to see anything at all until the train emerges from the final loop, but we do get a brief glimpse of the entrance, below us as we exit the mountain. These are the ‘Spiral Loops’. What an amazing feat of engineering!

We’re much nearer to the snowy mountain tops now, the sunshine punctuated by some showers and we have the sense that we are really here- right in the Canadian Rockies.

A delicious afternoon snack comes around- a choice of salty nuts or chocolatey nuts and raisins. It’s a welcome treat when we’re flagging from tiredness. To descend the steps to the footplate feels much chillier now that we’re higher up. The afternoon is ebbing away and there’s late sunlight as we draw towards Lake Louise, where some of the passengers are to be disgorged. Lake Louise is a hot tourist spot- as we are to discover later on in the trip!

But we stay as the twilight descends and at last we’re slowing down for Banff, where our train journey is to end. There’s a last farewell from the four staff who’ve looked after us for two days and a welcome comittee waiting beside the tracks to pipe us in! Then we’re stumbling down off the train and up into buses again.

It’s dark and I feel stretched with fatigue. The bus is to take us to the Rimrock Hotel, which we’re dismayed to learn is up and out of the town. We’d been hoping it was near the centre and walking distance. When the bus pulls up, however, we’re given bus passes for the shuttle that makes frequent trips to and from the town.

At last we’re into the hotel, which is, even from glancing round at the lobby, a vast improvement on last night’s! Having found our vast, comfortable room and checked that our luggage is there, we go down to the lounge area and collapse into a sofa before ordering a bowl of fries and a drink- some soporific calories before bed.

Once i’ve showered I clamber into the huge, luxurious bed and sleep and sleep and sleep…

Long Train Running On and On

Posted on October 22, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

The Rocky Mountaineer is the only passenger train to run on this route- into the Canadian Rocky Mountains, but it is a very well rolled route for goods trains- and they are incredible. Sometimes we rumble past one coming the opposite way, sometimes we must pause for one to pass and, on occasions when the line splits into opposite sides of a valley, we see one from a distance, snaking along on the other track, These trains are huge chains of containers- up to 30 and can be 3700 metres long, taking many minutes to pass by. They are interspersed with two or three engines as they ascend and descend in a slow and stately manner. I wonder what they are carrying? Once or twice we pass one with open trucks full of coal- a slightly depressing sight!

Having breakfasted, we return to our upstairs seats and it’s not long before the top deck stewards are coming round to take drinks orders. Basically, you can have anything you like. The two British couples in front odf us, who have hooked up now are making the most of the largesse and digging in by working their way through the cocktail menu.

The landscape has become progressively wilder, although not yet mountainous. There are huge, tumbling rivers, hillsides coated with conifers, deep gorges- sometimes spanned by a spindly bridge. The waters are a deep, greenish blue and often churning with sediment. Sometimes, when the Rocky mountaineer rounds the bend in a cliff we get to see the front of it- an impressive view.

I’m up on my feet for some of the time, attempting photos, although I’ve discovered that photography is not easy on a train. At times I descend to the footplate at the rear of our carriage, which we are permitted to do, with warnings not to stick any part of ourselves out! But it’s no easier to snap views from here-

It’s early afternoon before we’re called to lunch, which is, again a culinary masterpiece. You have to be impressed by the quality of the meals being served from such a tiny kitchen.

The remainder of the afternoon passes with views, anecdotes from the staff, drinks and snacks and dodging about to try and photograph things. After a long day of clear skies, sunshine and great landscapes, as the sun begins to sink in the sky I remember that we’ve had a very early start and in spite of sitting around most of the time we’re feeling weary.

We roll into Kamloops. It’s getting dark- and late as we clamber off on to the tarmac at Kamloops Station and on to buses. We’re not going to be seeing anything of the town due to the late hour. We’re bussed up and around into an area where there are some hotels then the coaches begin to pull in and disgorge passengers. We arrive to ours. One of the great things about the Rocky Mountaineer is that your luggage arrives independently [by road] and is placed in your room, ready for your arrival. There is no checking in, so we can get our key and go directly there. This is easier said than done, though, as finding the way there is tricky in our [by now] addled state.

In spite of not eating an evening meal I’m too tired to eat, wanting only to shower and sleep, but Husband goes down to the bar in search of some sustenance while I shower. I’m not altogether thrilled with the hotel, since when I return to the bathroom before turning out the light there’s a huge lake in there, meaning I must use every available towel to clean it up. Then the sheets on the bed don’t feel crisp and nice as they should.

All this adds up to a sleep impoverished night- a night which will end at 5am in order for us to assemble in the lobby at 6am. Horrors!

Long Train Running

Posted on October 15, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

Our bus pulls into Vancouver station, along with the rest of the coach convoy. But there’s no platform. We’re facing the tracks, upon which sits a magnificent, gleaming, golden train, its tall carriages stretching both ways as far as the eye can see. In spite of the early hour and my tiredness I feel a frisson of excitement to see it, this iconic train: The Rocky Mountaineer. This is to be our conveyance for two whole days.

On leaving the bus, we must locate our carriage- marked on our boarding cards. Outside each, tall, double-decker carriage there are two stewards waiting to welcome us by the footplate and we must clamber up the iron steps to enter the ground floor. Inside, looking along the carriage, there is a panelled ante room lined with sofas and beyond, a dining compartment where window tables are set for four with pristine white tablecloths and gleaming cutlery. It’s a heartening sight!

There’s a semi-spiral set of stairs up to the seating area, reminding me of the double decker buses of my childhood. We locate our seats, which are large and comfortable. Before the train sets off we’re given information and instructions. There are four stewards in the carriage- two up and two down in the dining car. In addition to this there are kitchen staff in the tiny galley area, producing breakfasts and lunches. Each carriage is self-contained in this way- it’s a massive operation!

We move off, a slow rumble through the outskirts of Vancouver, past sidings and rolling stock, here and there passing elevated railway tracks, warehouses and retail parks, It’s not long before the first diners are summoned- and we must wait- except that while we are waiting, coffee and warm, delicious cherry cake is served to us, which revives me, although I’m hoping it doesn’t spoil the appetite for what is to be a very posh breakfast.

After a while we’re in the countryside, crossing a bridge over a wide river, a ‘skytrain’ winding above us, or following alongside the river. The travel is punctuated by snippets of information from the upstairs stewards, who regail us with stories and facts from time to time. There’s also an upstairs kitchen area from where drinks and snacks are dispensed, served to us in our seats whenever we like, however I’m not inclined to embark on cocktail consumption at this hour of the morning.

The passengers in our carriage consist of many British with a smattering of other non-Canadians; near us are an Australian couple, a German couple and a pair from a village a few miles away from us in the UK.

When we’re called down to the dining area we filter along to fill up tables. Besides the tables for four there are two odd tables for two, either side of the aisle. The German couple slide into one booth and we sit in the other. This becomes the pattern for the remainder of our meals. I’m a little disappointed not to be able to socialise so much, although Husband points out that the chatting couples are so interested in their conversations they’re missing the scenery and the sights- which is correct.

Breakfast consists of a fruit and yoghurt starter and a choice of main course, all immaculately presented and accompanied by tea or coffee and fruit juices. It is all delicious. Outside, the rolling countryside slides past…

Stanley Park and Goodbye

Posted on October 8, 2023 by Grace Lessageing

Our second and last day in Vancouver happens to be a bank holiday, although most stores and cafes seem to be operating normally, which is lucky- as I need to buy a raincoat. Once again we’ve woken at an indecent time, but on this second day we find a beautiful patisserie serving coffee and pastries, which sets us up for the day. I get the perfect coat, however the sun is out and the temperature balmy, so I am not convinced I need it [except that I will, later].

We’ve checked in for our next leg of the trip and the plan for this day is to walk to Stanley Park, a large area of parkland fringing the bay, around it and back. It’s heralded as a ‘must-see’ in Vancouver.

We need to be packed and ready to vacate our room early next day, to which end we return to hotel and do some preparing before we set off- as well as lunch, from the supermarket deli as before.

Leaving the centre of downtown Vancouver, the streets become leafy, the homes affluent and grand. The maple trees are shedding their leaves, producing a magenta carpet on the ground. We’re walking parallel to the waterfront, eventually arriving at the entrance to the park. There’s a wide lane next to the water, shared by walkers, cyclists, skaters etc. We turn left, taking care to avoid the pedestrian and cycle traffic. It’s busy! Near the entrance there are horse and carriage rides, as well as a cafe.

It’s a pleasant, green space for the residents of Vancouver. A few minutes in are the iconic totem poles, common in brochures of the city. Though they’re not authentic, First Nations’ totem poles they are fun and colourful.

There’s a lot more park, and it’s attractive enough, although there’s little else of great note. It has become very warm by now and we stop at a central cafe for a drink. We give the mini zoo a miss and turn towards home, as it’s quite a distance, this time sticking to the waterside until we reach the cruise terminal near our hotel, the Fairmont.

With an early start looming we opt to eat at the local pub, just along the road, then it’s back to the hotel bar for a drink and to bed.

I’m awake before the alarm, of course, which was set for 6am. We’ve to be down in the lobby for 7am, which we are- although not as early as everyone else, as the lobbly is full to bursting with luggage, luggage trolleys, hotel guests and porters. It looks like chaos, except that the guys mustering us appear to know what they are doing. We’ve only to show our boarding passes and our cases our whisked away. Will we see them again? I wonder…We join a queue for a coach, many of which are lined up outside the doors, then we’re allocated to one and clamber on. I’m relieved we’ve managed to be ready in time.

The coach moves on out into the city streets. Where is it heading? Ahh….that would be telling… [next week!]…

Anecdotage

Views from the Descent

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