My couple of days in Winnipeg passed relatively quickly. The gig - purpose of my stop - was a good hit-laden affair; Winnipeg art gallery had a new exhibit by a local man of Ukrainian extraction, his acrylic of the northern lights over vast wheatfields particularly resonant for me (for the astral displays rather than the fields of corn); a German room-mate who worked in - wait for it - Maidenhead for 18 months last year (his opening enquiry: "What's the best nightclub in Maidenhead?"..."Smokey Joes", I replied. How to make friends and influence people rule number 1).
Back to the familiar green-blue-grey upholstery of the train, the westward procession of bodyless telegraph crucifixes continues. Seemingly endless expanses of flat prairie, yet this leg passes quicker than the first (relatively). A young deer or two; a lake; a sudden unexpected gorge, too swift to be committed to film.
I approach Jasper, and a week of exploring the National Parks of the Canadian Rockies. There will be trails and glaciers and spectacular views aplenty. There may also be wild animals, as my Rough Guide is only too happy to point out...
"Two types of bears roam the Rockies - black bears and grizzlies - and you don't want to meet either...grizzlies are unpredictable and readily provoked...if confronted don't run, make loud noises or sudden movements, all of which are likely to provoke an attack.
"Cougars pose a somewhat lesser threat...while you would be unlucky to encounter them...unlike bears, the best strategy is to try and fight them off..."
I went to a Pocketbooks gig a couple of days before I left the UK. I am ready.
It transpires the cumulative sixty-four-hours-on-a-train is worth it. The last ninety minutes into Jasper is unparalleled. The train snakes its way out of pine forests and above large logging settlements into the beginnings of the Rockies: glacial rivers, as wide as a small town, accompany the telegraph poles on the flanks; crystal lakes lap against pine-lined shores; everything is cradled in the fingertips of snow-wristed mountains.
The Park Information Centre in Jasper tells me "all types, everywhere" when I enquire which animals are in the vicinity right now. My visit, it seems, is perfectly timed. Whether that timing is perfectly good or perfectly bad, well, hopefully I'll be able to report at the end of the week. Second job upon arrival is to pick up my toy car (public transport exists, but distances are such that I'd be a slave to it without my own wheels). My car moves just by turning it on, which is novel, and it requires only one limb to pilot rather than the customary four.
The five minute "drive" from car park to hostel is utterly breath-taking. Alan Wake/Twin Peaks/erm/Twilight (sorry)...whichever takes your fancy...I am truly blown away.
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