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Travel Tales - by Peter Payan
("Backpack Peter")
A TRANS-CANADA CHRISTMAS ADVENTURE BY RAIL - CHAPTER 5
(Apology: owing to a recent web crash this article is incomplete. Efforts are being made to restore the chapters 1-4)
As we left the West Vancouver harbour, we could see the shoreline slipping past in the fog. Entering the strait, the wind freshened and the waves became choppy, making the ferry roll a bit.
The motion was enough for my wife to comment, “Will the cars be safe on the car deck below us?”
We asked a passing ship’s officer who reassured us saying, “The motion is felt less on the decks below and we’ve never had a problem with vehicles shifting on the desk.”
Even so, we soon noticed that the ship turned into the wind to reduce its effect. Over the speaker, they said, “Due to the strong winds, we are turning south and will be about 10 minutes late arriving in Nanaimo . We apologize for the delay.”
As we neared the Island shore, the winds grew quiet, and the skies cleared, showing us the houses dotting the surrounding hills.
We hurried below to our car and waited there for the ferry to dock. By the time we were ashore, the clouds had returned with a hint of snow to the north. We debated taking the ‘old road’ along the shore but opted for the speed on the new highway to get us more quickly to our destination in Comox.
After an hour’s drive northward we arrived there and promptly got lost! Even with the ‘mapquest’ and Laurie's directions, we did a ‘right turn’ instead of a left at the top of a hill. Turning into a hospital parking lot nearby, we called him. He quickly solved the puzzle, directing us to his house for the night.
As we arrived, he said, “Hello, why didn’t you call us from Vancouver as we’d arranged?”
“In the rush, being late arriving there and finding our hotel, I forgot. Sorry to have worried you,” I remarked, “but all’s well now, we’re here safely!”
After a light lunch, he had me drive our car while he gave us ‘a tour of his town’. It was almost too dark and cloudy but we managed to take a picture of the distant mountains.
Early the next morning we awoke to frost on the cars and lawns, and a temperature close to freezing. Later, as we were scraping the ice off the car windows, Laurie said, “Watch out of black ice on the roadways and drive carefully as you head south.”
After saying thanks and waving good-bye, we drove to the main road in town. There, we decided to follow the ‘old’ road back to Nanaimo . Leaving Comox, the skies cleared making everything bright. With no other traffic on the road, we enjoyed its twists, turns and villages. I said to my wife, “Everyone else must have taken the new highway!”
Joining the ‘new’ road in Nanaimo , we found it heavily travelled, being the only road south to Victoria . Once on it, we had to keep up with the traffic and not look like tourists.
At noon, we were near Chemainus, a small town now known for its Logging Murals. Being hungry, we drove down to see the sights. We found that many of the buildings were indeed, covered with the paintings.
One of the steam engines used for logging was preserved on a lawn near the road. Gleaming in its black paint, it looked ready to steam into the woods again at any time.
In the town, we discovered a small European bakery where we could have lunch. The price was right and the food, excellent.
With lunch soon over and places still to go, we were on the highway towards Victoria . This coastal road certainly had its ‘ups and downs’. Divided in most places with two lanes in each direction, there were no places to stop for pictures as we travelled through the mountains and valleys surrounding it..
Finally, by mid-afternoon, we were approaching Victoria . We hadn’t been in the city for at least eight years and hadn’t driven into it from the north before so my wife had the ‘mapquest’ directions in her hands, guiding me as I looked for the road signs, hoping not to miss a turn. Luckily, we managed to arrive at our friends’ house without incident.
We’d be staying with them for two nights to explore the city on foot.
The ‘Tale’ continues next month as we do just that, discovering some interesting places.
Journey to the Magdalen Islands
JUNE 2006! Our maritime adventure this year began on a warm Friday before noon as I met my wife at her office. Carrying our one backpack and our homemade lunch, we took a city bus down to the docks.
On arrival, we were told that within the next hour, a small bus would take us to the ship. While we waited, we ate our lunch within the coolness of the reception building.
At 1pm, they announced that the bus was ready for the short drive to the gangplank. Arriving there, our documents were checked and we were allowed to climb onto the ship and report to the Purser’s office.
There we were told to set our watches on 'Atlantic Daylight Time' (ADT) since the Magdalen Islands were in that time zone. We also received the keys and directions to our cabin, #535, located near the stern.
The cabin itself was very small and compact. If all 4 bunks had been occupied, it would have been impossible to move. The shower, tiny but well-organized, occupied the same area as the toilet – only the shower curtain kept it dry.
Our ship, the CTMA Vacancier, built in Germany in 1973, had been purchased recently by the Magdalen Islands Shipping Company. 12,000 tons in weight, it had cabins for 500 passengers and space for 250 vehicles on the Car Deck. However, with the dining room limited to just 175 people per sitting, they rarely take more than 350 passengers at one time.
As we waited for our departure from the dock, we explored the ship itself, discovering all the 'nooks and crannies' aboard. With 3 passenger decks, there was a formal Dining room, a Cafeteria, snack bar, and lounge, and lots of deck space to walk about.
We left the dock at 4pm ADT right on time, heading out into the harbour and under the Jacques Cartier Bridge on our way downriver.
While waiting in line outside the dining room that evening, we met 2 young French-speaking girls. Knowing that the tables sat 4 people each, we asked if they would like to join us. They accepted with pleasure saying that we could practice speaking each other’s language. They became our ‘table-mates’ for most of the meals until we reached the islands.
Travelling at about 18 knots (19 miles an hour) the ship passed Quebec City around midnight while we were asleep.
Saturday dawned clear and bright as we watched the ship's pilot leave for the Pilot Station at Les Escoumins on the north shore. From there, we crossed to the south shore, following it past Rimouski, Matane, and other towns and villages to Chandler on the southern coast of the Gaspe Peninsula.
Just after supper that evening, we slowly passed between the Perce Rock and Bonaventure Island, now a National Park. Its southern cliffs are covered with nesting Gannets.
At 10pm, we docked at Chandler, ahead of schedule. With just 1 reservation received, we were expecting only the car waiting for us on the dock so they left before midnight to head south for the Islands.
We awoke to a sunny Sunday morning. Looking around the sea, we spotted the outline of something in the distance. Too far away to identify positively, we presumed it to be the islands. Eating breakfast as we approached, we could see Ile du Havre Aubert with its cliffs to port (left). Later, after passing close to Entry Island, we turned towards Cap-aux-Meules and our port while at the Islands.
Outside the harbour, the ship stopped while a small boat was lowered into the water. The staff explained that this was a safety exercise done each trip to practice the moves necessary if there were an emergency. As the small boat travelled to the shore, we were told that it would be picked up again when we left the harbour the following Tuesday evening.
When the ship was securely docked, the gangplank attached, and the hatch opened, we said good-bye to our 'table-mates'. Collecting their car, they were heading for an Island hotel, then travelling homeward by ferry and road through Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, and the Gaspe.
We walked down the steep gangway onto a flight of stairs to the dock. Waiting there for us was a man from Hertz who would be driving us to pick up our car to explore the Islands.
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A TRAVEL GUIDE FOR A DAY
JULY 2006!
This adventure took place in Montreal, my home town, this July. It began when I noticed a posting in the TravelzineYahoo Group requesting information about the city. In responding to it, I offered to meet Vince and Gerry, an American couple, when they arrived at the train station, suggesting that we have a 'get-together' for a meal during their stay.
In planning their 'quick-tour' of eastern Canada with short visits of about 3 days each in Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, and Quebec City, they would be able to see only the Highlights in each city.
During my 'internet conversations', I asked if they were 'walkers' and, upon receiving a 'yes, we've walked as many as 10 miles in a day', offered to show them part of 'My town'.
When their train arrived at 11am, I realized that I hadn't prepared a sign to identify myself so I hoped, 'fingers-crossed', that they would recognize me from my picture on the internet. They did and chuckled about it as we walked to their nearby hotel. As they settled in, I saw that there was enough time to show them the downtown area closeby before meeting my wife in Old Montreal for our lunch at 1pm.
Thinking that they should have a map of the city, we dropped in at the tourist office before heading north to Sherbrooke Street. As we walked along, I pointed out the Roderick Gates on the McGill campus, the mountain, and a museum or two.
Turning south on Jeanne Mance St, we passed the site of the Montreal International Jazz Festival, not yet populated by concert-goers.
Continuing toward the harbour, we walked through our new Conference Centre, 'Le Palais du Congres'. On each side of our path, we saw the original head offices for the Bank of Montreal and the Royal Bank of Canada, both buildings still used today by the banks.
As we passed the original Montreal Stock Exchange building, now converted into a Theatre, I spotted my wife heading up the street toward us. Having not seen us at the restaurant when she arrived, she was back-tracking to find us.
After an excellent meal of Polish food and lots of great conversation, we continued our walk to the docks. Finding a cool, shady spot on a pier, we sat down to watch the comings and goings of the various watercraft. Later, as we were about to leave, I noticed a large vessel heading downriver. Noting its name as the CTMA Vacancier, I said that it was the ship which we had taken to the Magdalen Islands in June.
Continuing our tour, we walked to the Palais des Congres subway station. There we took a train going north to the Mount Royal Avenue stop and the city bus which would take up and over the mountain. As the road wove its way towards the top, there were excellent views to the east and north of the city to be seen.
Leaving the bus at the stop nearest the Lookout, we crossed the busy boulevard and walked along the shady roads of the Mount Royal Park towards the Chalet facing the St Lawrence River.
By the time we reached the plaza, we were hot and thirsty. After recovering with a cool drink of water in the chalet, I pointed out the various buildings and points of interest. When the usual pictures had been taken, I asked if they could walk down the many flights of stairs from the summit. Again receiving a 'yes', we set off to do so, quickly discovering excellent views on the way down.
Upon reaching Pine Avenue and the lower edge of the Park, Vince and Gerry looked back up the mountain, relishing its tranquillity and quiet. From there we walked down the steep hill and back to their hotel.
As we reached the entrance to it, Vince took out his pedometer, announcing that our leisurely stroll throughout the city had covered about 6 ¼ miles (10km). Not bad for a warm summer's day!
After advising them of a good restaurant nearby for their supper, we parted giving them our best wishes for continued good weather for the remainder of their trip.
Our adventure of a different sort was now complete.
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Our Steam Train Excursion to
Wakefield, Quebec
The 'seed' for this adventure started with a newspaper ad for a Week-end Getaway in the Hull area. My wife, knowing that I loved Steam Engines and Trains, said that the Package, which included two nights accomodations, two breakfasts, two dinners, a ticket to "Ride-the-Train", a Reserved-seating Ticket for the Fireworks competition at the Casino, and a ticket to any museum in the area, cost only $259. Only after I had booked and paid for it, did she add the word 'Each'. Oh well, it still seemed to be worth it!
On the Friday of our week-end Getaway, we took the train from Montreal to Ottawa, then the bus from the Ottawa station to the hotel in Hull, Quebec.
We had chosen a hotel overlooking the Ottawa river hoping for a riverside room. After registering and picking up the package documents at the front desk, we discovered that we, indeed, had a magnificient view of the river. In the distance, the city of Ottawa could be seen.
Following a delicious dinner eaten in the hotel restaurant, we set out to explore the area, hoping to buy local transit tickets for the ride to the Hull train station. We discovered that all the shops closed at 5pm on Fridays in the summertime so there were no tickets to be found. Oh well, cash, though more expensive, was still acceptable on the buses.
 Saturday morning dawned grey with rain threatening. After an early breakfast, we boarded the local bus nearby and set off in a round-about way for the train station. The bus route took us through many residential areas of the city, giving us a very interesting 45 minute tour before we reached our destination. Carrying our umbrellas, we walked the last block to the station, arriving almost an hour before the train's departure time.
With time on our hands, we explored the station and talked to the staff. We learned that the complete train, Steam engine, diesel switcher, and cars, had been built in Sweden, and was the only European train to travel on Canadian rails. The couplings between the cars were the original 'link-and-pin' type still used in Europe.
The steam engine, no. 909, was built in 1907; the rail cars, in the 1940's. The diesel, needed to help pull the train up a large hill along the route, and to help move the train at Wakefield, was built in the '50's.
"All Aboard!" It's 10am and the train, nine coaches in all, leaves the station, the engine puffing and whistling for the crossings. This morning we have more than 400 passengers aboard, all steam-train enthusiasts and their families. Our route takes us up the Gatineau river for 64 km, winding through the towns and the Gatineau Park countryside for ninety minutes. The rail line, once owned by the Canadian Pacific Railway, then abandoned, now belongs to the Hull-Chelsea-Wakefield Railroad.
 The rain, which started as we left, followed us up the valley, ending, as the skies cleared, just after our arrival in Wakefield. We would have two hours to watch the crew turn the engine by hand on the turntable, have lunch, explore, and shop. The old Wakefield Station, now an excellent restaurant, served us a delicious lunch at a reasonable price.
We explored the town, sampling free goodies in the various shops, and, as the time of departure drew closer, retracing our steps to the train. As we travelled homewards, we were serenaded, with lively tunes and tales, by the trains' strolling minstrels. Local bilingual guides shared their knowledge of the regions' history.
 After an excellent supper at our hotel, we set off by bus to see the Fireworks Competition near the Casino.
Never having been to an organized fireworks display before, we were unprepared for the number of people converging on the site. Our "Reserved Seating" tickets were for metal chairs on boards without a roof of any sort. What a disappointment!
 We had arrived early, as usual, so finding our correct seats was easy. As more and more people arrived, the rain started again, so up went our (and others) umbrellas. The rain grew heavier as the skies darkened. The rain dripped off the unbrellas onto our clothes, making us very uncomfortable.
The 'last straw' was when a group of young people arrived, claiming that we were in 'their' seats. Well, that did it! Wet, aggravated, and weary, we left, wending our way through the throngs of people watching the Fireworks. Walking towards our bus stop, we enjoyed some of the displays seen through the trees, hearing the explosions.
 Following another early breakfast on Sunday morning, we checked out and took the bus back to Ottawa to attend church, meeting our friends afterwards for lunch. Following a quiet afternoon's visit with them, they saw us onto our train home, another week-end adventure successfully completed.
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To Quebec City by Catamaran!
 I have always wanted to travel by water between Montreal and Quebec City. The last time I had done so was as a baby in 1944 when the roads between the cities were poor and Canada Steamships ran an 'overnight ferry' service.
After checking out the possibilities, I discovered the Famille Dufour II. A 110 ton vessel with a capacity of 310 people on two decks, it had been bought by a local company in May 2005. Previously, the catamaran had been used for whale-watching cruises between Quebec City and Tadoussac on the St Lawrence River.
 With a large 3750 HP diesel engine in each hull, our cruising speed during the seven hour trip downriver would be about 22 Knots (26 mph; 40km/hr)
On the Saturday, we awoke to clear skies and no wind; perfect conditions to be on the river. Arriving at the dock at 7am, we discovered that the ship, tied to the wharf below, was not yet ready for boarding. Walking down to it, we found that each deck had space outside for those wishing to have the 'wind-in-their-face'. By 7:15am, everyone was boarding the ship, impatient to start the voyage.
 Filled to capacity, we left the dock at 7:30am, heading out onto the river and downstream. Amongst those aboard were about 50 or so deaf French people, all using the American Sign Language with abandon.
Also aboard were a group of nine German Canadians celebrating their 50th anniversary of their arrival in Canada.
We were lucky enough to share one of their tables and listen to their many fascinating tales of hardship and travel aboard an Immigrant Steamer to Canada.
One of their number had started work as a mechanic at Canadair and, after earning his pilot's license, flew planes in Canada's North and over the coastal areas doing things like Ice surveys in the winter time.
As we talked, we were given an excellent and filling Continental breakfast by the ship's staff.
 Throughout the trip we passed ships of all sizes, from small tugs shunting gravel-filled barges to small coastal freighters and large Container ships. Each time we approached another vessel, we would slow down as the captain asked for permission to pass.
Small power boats and yachts wove in and out disregarding our large wake. At noon, we watched the ship navigate through the river's channels and under the bridge at Trois Rivieres as we ate a Box lunch, again provided by the ship’s staff.
 Arriving in the Quebec City harbour about 2:30pm, we went slowly past the 'Seaborn Pride', an American cruise ship, docked one berth away from our spot next to the Maritime Museum.
After disembarking, we walked through the Lower Town and up the hill into the Upper town near the Chateau Frontenac Hotel to look at the stores. With 3 hours until our train left for Montreal, we had lots of time!
Later, as we walked down the other side of the hill towards the Train station, we noticed a Farmers' Market still open at 4pm. There, we bought our weekly supply of fresh vegetables and a few chocolates for a treat.
 Carrying our bags of produce, we walked back to the station to await our train's departure.
Aboard the train, we traveled first class, enjoying an excellent meal of cold salmon, with an entree of cheeses, and fresh fruit for dessert. We had the usual 'nibbles' and fruit juice before the meal and two glasses of wine with it....all included in the price of our tickets.
What a great way to end a day's adventure!
For more of Peter's travels, see: http://www.geocities.com/backpackpeter/
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