On why my train to Toronto was late

Partly from stress and partly from the hot weather, I was sweating profusely when I walked Leonardo into Central Station and began the process of checking in the bike and my duffle bag. This involved taking the panniers off and because it was me, checking that a few important items had actually been packed. I also took off the lower parts of my convertible trousers and my biking shoes. A woman behind the baggage counter joked there should be music to accompany my stripping down.

When he saw my helmet, the attendant in the business lounge asked me how far I had ridden. He was disappointed to hear that I had only come a few kilometres.

The train left Central Station a little more than twenty minutes late as we had to wait for the Ocean train from Halifax (which was more than an hour late) to get in so a hundred plus passengers could make the connection across the platform along with their luggage. The consist on the Ocean was interesting as it started with stainless steel cars, probably from the CPR’s big batch from Budd. It then became Renaissance cars before, changing again to stainless steel Château sleepers and a Park dome car.

Once everyone was aboard, the train trundled along out through Point-St-Charles and St-Henri. A bit short of Dorval, it stopped to let another Via Train by.

At Dorval, we seemed to stop for an unduly long time. Then the train manager came on the PA to say that Via Rail does not tolerate verbal violence towards its crew or other passengers. As a consequence of this, the train was delayed some passengers were being removed from the train! Three police cars arrived. I didn’t see any of the altercation. (Apparently business class passengers are better behaved! ;-) )

As the train pulled out of the station, now an hour late, I saw two old ladies entering the station pulling rolling suitcases. I speculated that they were the offending parties and about just what had happened. From working at the Library, I know that you can get some pretty rude and obnoxious old folks whose lack of respect for rules of behaviour is frequently compounded by poor listening skills. (I also get some sweethearts who are sometimes almost embarrassingly grateful for what I do for them.)