Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Quebec City, Canada
Sadly this is the final day in Quebec City. Shall miss it. Been one of the highlights of the trip. Nice old town and excellent hotel.
Excellent few hours at the Titanic exhibition in the city. I have a VERY tenuous connection to the Titanic. I am friends with the granddaughter of Harold Cottam. You may be wondering who Harold Cottam is, dear reader. Well. Born in Nottinghamshire, he was the wireless operator of the ship ‘Carpathia’ and it was he who received the distress call from the Titanic as it started to sink in April 1912. And thus raised the alarm. His diligence and prompt reaction were instrumental in saving 705 lives.
An unsung hero.
A day of interesting historical facts continues when I take a tour of the hotel I’ve been staying in the past few days. The Chateau Frontenac. It being the hotel where Churchill and Roosevelt met to arrange the D-Day landings. Taken to the room where it all happened. The story goes that they accidentally left the plans for the invasion in the room once they’d left. Only to be hastily retrieved by one of the waiters. And handed back.
Finally time to depart for the railway station. And an early evening departure.
Ho.
Ho.
Ho.
Due to the vagaries of VIA Rail, Canada’s passenger rail service, the departure station is not the same as the arrival station. Scheduled to take a rail bus from the railway station actually in Quebec City to a suburban railway station at Charny, a 20 minute bus ride away. To meet the Montreal to Halifax sleeper train.
However.
There’s been a 5.0 magnitude earthquake near Montreal. Which has delayed the train by about two sodding hours. Notwithstanding that, we are transferred to Charny bang on time.
However.
There is no rail bus.
No.
That’s too simple.
The rail company have laid on some taxis.
Except.
The number of people and their bags won’t fit in the number of taxis provided.
Flipping French. Can’t organise a whatsit in a brewery.
Taxi drivers start falling out with one another as it becomes apparent one taxi driver shouldn’t be there. He’s gatecrashed their little taxi mafia party. They’re not having it. He only has a normal saloon car. The others have people carriers.
I get in one taxi and load up my bags.
Then told I’m in the wrong sodding taxi. Notwithstanding they’re all going to the same station.
Have to decant and swap taxis.
New taxi driver has a hearing aid implant which clearly affects his notion of speed and distance between him and the rear bumper of the car in front. Tailgating at high speed.
Arriving at Charny surprisingly in one piece discover that the train is further delayed due to the earthquake due to speed restrictions on the line. And is now scheduled to depart at midnight.
It is now 2030hrs. Three and a half hours to kill.
For those that have not been to Charny and its railway station you will appreciate that three and a half hours is three hours and twenty nine minutes too long. I use the term railway station rather loosely. It’s basically a shed by the railway track.
No business class lounge. Tsk.
No wifi. Tsk.
No hope.
The shed is hot, sweaty and humid.
A breather is required for some fresh air in the hot and humid night.
Standing there minding my own business. Trying to cool off.
And then.
A single gunshot.
Nearby.
Clucking bell.
Followed by sirens.
Not wanting to be shot beat a hasty retreat inside. Under cover of a solid brick wall.
Train eventually arrives.
Bloody hell.
It’s long.
So long in fact that it has to stop twice.
The first time to take on passengers at the front of the train going to Gaspe. The second time to take on passengers at the rear of the train going to Halifax.
Unlike the Trans Canadian and its original 1950s carriages this sleeper is brand new. Cabins complete with a proper ensuite bathroom and shower. Ah yes. This is nice and modern.
In need of an ice cold beer on account of over three hours waiting for a train in a hot and humid shed am directed to the bar car. In the middle of the train. And a beautiful young stewardess. We stop serving at 2230hrs. Surely she’ll take pity on me as the train’s been delayed?
Nope. Not having it. Absolutely adamant she can’t. It’s the law.
Epic fail on the Taurean charm.
Hells bells.
Losing my touch.
Now grumpy and thirsty, my cabin attendant suggests talking to her colleague in the observation car at the rear of the train.
Actually quicker to jump off train and walk down the platform to the rear and then jump on again.
This is more like it. Much more welcoming and flexible with alcohol laws. At this end of the train.
Couple of ice cold beers? Thank you very much.
And would you like some whisky miniatures to go with that?
Thank you very much.
Taurean charm you see.
Phew. Still got it.
