The Canadian - Part 2

The nights are short, the landscape is beautiful, the food is plentiful, and once a day you can get off the train during a short stop, even at -18 degrees.

On the second day, Bernise joined me as I was sitting at my laptop in one of the lounge cars. On the first day, she tapped me on the shoulder and said, 'You gave me soup at the hotel.' We talked a bit about her journey and her life, and about my journey. Later, she gave me a silk scarf as a gift, because she wanted to give me something that reminds me of her and Canada.

In the end, it is encounters and stories like these that make a trip. When I remember the train journey, I remember the people. Marianne, who was born near Gdansk and still speaks German quite well. She gave me her business card and said I should come by for tea if I'm nearby. Or Matt and his uncle from Toronto, who I should contact when I'm back in the city. Uncle Joe suspects that nothing is real and that we live in some kind of matrix. That's why you sometimes have conversations until one in the morning. And then there was Steven, the Englishman who likes old things and churches, travels a lot, and writes letters.

I ate bison for the first time, didn't skip any desserts, learned something about beavers, bears, and moose, and crossed five provinces and three time zones.

And with a 17-hour delay, it finally said: Hello Vancouver! Hello West Coast! Hello rain!