Day 12 - The Skeena Train to Prince George

The day dawned foggy (an American couple asked us if we were Australians as we checked out of the hotel), and it was still foggy when the taxi dropped us off at the VIA rail terminal in the same place we'd been dropped off by the ferry two days before. We checked in, got our boarding passes, and while Sandra went to use the washroom (they don't seem to have toilets here, just washrooms), I went outside into the carpark. I could hear the warning ding-ding-ding of a North American level crossing, and then howling out of the fog came the blare of our train's horn. The train materialised out of the fog, huge and silver, and pulled to a slow stop in front of the short queue of people waiting for it.

Our suitcases already checked in, we just boarded with hand-luggage, found some seats (amazingly roomy) in the economy class section, and settled down. For extra bucks you can go in the cabin where the windows run from one side to the other, giving a complete 180 degree view of the landscape. But since at least 100 degrees of that 180 is sky, I'd decided we wouldn't bother. Given the scorcher today turned out to be, I'm glad we didn't, it must have been like a greenhouse in there.

Boarding complete, the train moved out on time at 8am, and we were introduced to the cabin crew, Bruce and Patrick. It must take a certain type of person to do their job, dealing with people of all nationalities with their individual quirks and needs, and these guys have the right qualities. Coming around with the breakfast trolley, I asked what options there were. In the list he rolled out, Bruce mentioned "Freedom Pastries". What? "We used to call them Danish Pastries, but because of the dispute over Hans Island, we don't call them that any more, they're Freedom Pastries, like what the Americans did with Freedom Fries when the French wouldn't help them in Iraq."

Further questioning dragged me into the somewhat tongue-in-cheek international border dispute between Canada and Denmark over Hans Island. Bruce appeared to get quite heated over it. "The Danes, they keep invading Hans Island. Hey, you're English, right? You should be helping us, you still owe us from One and Two. You could get us some of those Harriers, we need those cos there's no place to build a runway on Hans Island. Hey Patrick, this guy doesn't believe the Brits still owe us from One and Two. What kind of nick are those Harriers in anyways?" And so on, down the carriage, always funny, mostly slightly close to the bone ("You're a farmer? What do you farm? Any of that Mary Jane?").

The fog burned off quite quickly, and the day was another sunny and gorgeous one. Bruce read out the itinery for the approximately 460 mile journey to Prince George, but it was all a bit much to take in, especially when we were plunged straight into the spectacular scenery of the Coastal Mountains and the Skeena River, from which the train gets its name.

And that's it, really, for the next 460 miles. Trees, lakes, mountains. Mostly trees though. They never seem to leave you (pun not intended). Most of the time they're quite close to the track, but when there's a gap the scenery causes a mass fumbling for cameras... usually too late, as by the time you're ready to take a picture, the trees have closed back in again.

There was plenty of leg and arm room available on the train, even in economy class, and with the sun pouring in through the windows I soon nodded off (I usually do on trains). I woke when we stopped for about ten minutes to let a train pass the other way, and Sandra and I disembarked to stretch our legs along with a number of other passengers. We were at an altitude of about 2000 feet, halfway up British Columbia, and already the temperature was in the high twenties. It got higher later; most of the day was in the low to mid thirties.

Back on the train and the journey continued, with a few stops along the way, which surprised me; I thought we were only stopping at Prince George. It turns out that this is actually still a passenger train, and not just a tourist attraction. In fact we're travelling almost 700 miles over two days for approximately £80 each, which isn't bad.

The railway winds its way through the Coastal Mountains, then pushes on to the Interior Plateau, which is just another excuse - were one needed - for more trees. It was here that we saw first hand the effects of the Mountain Pine Beetle. An infestation of these beetles can kill a pine tree in a fortnight, and in the past this was an accepted part of nature, because every winter the terrible freezing temperatures they get in northern Canada would kill off lots of the beetles, keeping their population in check. The problem is that recently the winters haven't been getting cold enough, and the Mountain Pine Beetle population is increasing and causing a real problem for the pine trees in large parts of British Columbia.

The journey continued, the constant trees driving people to read books, watch videos on laptops, sleep... Occasionally Bruce would speak over the intercom and draw attention to a feature of the landscape, or an animal (saw my first moose - not a wild one though), or tell an anecdote about the line (like the crew who turned up one freezing morning to blast some rock away for the railroad and found their nitroglycerin explosive too cold to use, so they warmed it up in a pan first... 12 of them died, along with their foreman, in the ensuing explosion).

At one point, two hours out from Prince George, the landscape did change, and for the first time in what seemed like days I saw carpets of rolling fields, beautiful grass-greenery stretching out over the plateau... but then the trees came back, along with one of the biggest lumber mills in the world.

After a solid hour of close up trees, 13 hours and 460 miles since we set off, we finally arrived in Prince George. Bags unloaded, we walked the short distance to our hotel and checked in (no hookers, Jeff).

Tomorrow should be a shorter journey to Jasper. Must remember to put our watches forward an hour - we're crossing into a different timezone.