The view outside the train window is pretty standard – snowy fields and highways lined with cars, old farm houses that line railway tracks from a time long past. There are a few random towns spattered along the line, though mostly from what I can tell we've taken the scenic route, just at a higher speed. The train travels a little faster than I would typically be accustomed to – my average commute is going smoothly if I get much beyond 60 kms per hour.
This view is particularly unique because I’m in a rear-facing seat, watching everything as if it’s on rewind, as opposed to what would likely be much less interesting from any other vantage point.
Admittedly, I’ve never been particularly fond of train travel – I enjoy the control driving provides, as much as I like the way planes are able to make you weightless and take you somewhere completely new.
Trains seem like the strange hybrid brother of the two, neither as convenient as the car (you can’t pull over for a quick restaurant break, nor can you easily detour) but you also can’t cover nearly as much ground – in fact, it often takes longer.
This trip though, where I was looking for a rare combination of reliable and safe – weather in March can be hit and miss at best, I’ve seen gargantuan storms almost as often as I’ve had the joys of virtually tropical temperatures – it seemed prudent to do something a little off book.
Train travel is not completely lost on me though – I am enjoying the complete yuppy pretentiousness of sitting here on my MacBook, typing my blog while listening to my iPod and texting using my iPhone – all of which would be completely impossible were I traveling by car or by plane. In fact, any one of those things, let alone in combination, would likely be an arrestable offense.
I’ve so far refrained from incurring the wrath of an air marshal. I don’t trust the odds of me coming out of that in tact, let alone able to continue my travels.
So I've got music, and telecommunications, a rather surprisingly free wifi connection, and I almost begin to think this isn't so bad, really. There's a view, and there are people around who look interesting and kind. Random conversation struck up at first seating tells me that we're all at very different places in our lives, and that's both ok, and exciting.
The iPod is kicking out various songs, a mega mix of the 1990's giving me a strange appreciation for today's kinder, gentler music. The tunes are a random mishmash of songs that remind me of my youth. It’s ok, I figure, because today I’m heading back ‘home’ – to the place where I grew up.
I don’t go back often, so it feels like a big deal even though it would so rarely be a noteable journey to anyone on the outside looking in. The truth is, it’s merely six hours from where I currently live, and yet for as many times I’ve traveled further, I very rarely make it back there.
Home is a nice place – complete with family and friends who remember me when I was younger, more naïve, and perhaps a little more willing to trust that everything would always work itself out. There's no reason in particular for not going back, though it sometimes seems like it's everything in general and nothing in particular.
Going back will mean a different view, a different window. It will be interesting to see who’s changed, how they’ve changed, and if, even all these years later, if we could still be friends.
Meanwhile, the view is getting dimmer, the orange sunset now casting a fiery glow on the horizon, making this trip seem even more cliché than it had when I boarded the train. I'm debating the merit of ordering a tetra pak of wine, basking in the extravagance of a elementary school-sized boxed drink, complete with alcoholic properties. I might even partake in some of those absurdly expensive nuts they keep flogging at every pass. I hesitate to mention that these would be free in-flight, or that I could easily swing into a local Tim Horton's were it not for my current method of transportation.
Then again, it might be completely fitting with my current adventure - the endeavor to return home and to check back in my life as it was ten years ago. When doing something backwards, you might as well be consistent, no?
Maybe I was too hard on the train. When you’re doing something completely beyond your comprehension, the best way to do it is in rewind.
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