RTW 53. End of the line

Thursday, 24 June 2010

Halifax, Canada

Well this is it, dear reader. The final rail day on the rails of this trip.

Most of the day is spent trundling along the tracks passing the usual landscape of lakes and trees. Very Canadian.

The train has actually, and unbelievably, run out of food. A brief stop for supplies is required. Lunch is put back. Pretty pathetic service and totally inefficient. Not like the Trans Canadian at all.

About 100 miles from Halifax pass through a town which heard the great explosion of Halifax in 1917, when a French cargo ship carrying explosives crashed into another ship which ignited the explosives and created what was the biggest man made explosion at the time. The explosion demolished structures within a half mile radius thus destroying most of Halifax and killing about 2,000 people. Must have been some explosion if you could hear it 100 miles away.

Arrive Halifax.

This is the end of the line.

No more rail travel.

Quite sad really.

Walk through railway station to the adjoining hotel and ask door staff if they would call a taxi for me. Thus niftily bypassing the long queue for the station taxi rank. Bit of quick thinking. No flies on me, dear reader.

Check in to the Marriott Harbourfront Hotel (https://www.marriott.co.uk/hotels/travel/yhzmc-halifax-marriott-harbourfront-hotel/) to discover there’s masses of rowdy teenagers. Attending the local school prom.

Quiet room please. Away from this rigmarole. Am told there will be no noise or rowdiness. They have the police stationed in the hotel. Just in case.

Reception recommend Salty’s for dinner. Fantastic fish restaurant. Fantastic view of the waterfront. Excellent waiter who knows his wines. We get on well.

This is the perfect place for a period of quiet reflection on an amazing rail journey. A little celebratory drink or two with fresh fish freshly fried.

Oh yes. This is the life.

I am so lucky.

Return to hotel to find the lobby crawling with police. And paramedics.

A young school kid is sitting on the lobby sofa.

His face bleeding profusely.

Fight night.