Sunday morning we grabbed coffee at Starbucks and walked to church, a very long walk, but the hike got our blood pumping on the breezy morning. When the service ended, Theresa and Gordon, a couple from Vancouver Island, asked if we wanted a ride back into town. We accepted their offer and thanked them as they dropped us off in the village.
Famished, we ate lunch at Hot Buns, a cozy café famous for their cinnamon buns, but we ordered crepes—lemon sugar and apple cinnamon.
Go Fest, Whistler’s Great Outdoors Festival, was in full swing, and we spent a good hour touring a car show, snapping photos of vintage vehicles, and another thirty minutes talking to one car owner who had his senior giant schnauzer with him.
We shopped away most of the afternoon, picking up where we had left off the day before, and making some warm purchases—fleece. Afterward, we watched a group of hotshot snowboarders and skiers push the limits before we returned to our hotel for dinner.
We had reservations at the Grill Room. We started with oysters on the half shell; this was followed by Beef Tenderloin Neptune, beef tenderloin topped with Dungeness crab and sauce Charon; and Brome Lake Duck Duo, a pan-roasted duck breast and confit duck leg; and a side order of risotto. We enjoyed dessert in the Fairmont’s Mallard Lounge, sitting before a fire, nibbling a fine selection of sweets from the Chocolate Bar, and sipping a good port.
The next morning we boarded another Rocky Mountaineer train to continue our rail tour of the Canadian Rockies. This leg would take us from Whistler to Quesnel, BC. David had planned the train trip so we could get on the train to capture certain scenic routes and off for longer stays in specific towns, and this plan worked well for us.
For most of this blog series, I will let the photos tell the story—the beauty of the Rockies being soul-stirring and breathtaking to behold. And yes, I will set a Darcy McClain and Bullet thriller in Canada.
What struck me about this section of the train ride, besides the magnificent terrain, was all the logging. Of course, I knew Canada logged, but I was stunned by the extent of the industry. After doing more research, I was surprised to learn that British Columbia is the world’s largest exporter of softwood lumber, but not that the United States is the biggest buyer. In order of wood exports, close behind the US is China, Japan, Europe, South Korea, and India.
As a child and young adult, when we lived or traveled overseas, I always heard my father say, “Don’t be an ugly American” and “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Unfortunately, not everyone adheres to either one, never mind both. As soon as we boarded this leg of the rail tour, we had the pleasure of the ugly Americans across the aisle from us, and they soon linked up with the Aussie couple seated behind us. Loud and obnoxious, the four grew louder and rowdier as they drank more than their share of wine, starting at 11:00 a.m.
Behind the Americans sat a couple from Edinburgh, Scotland, and next to them a couple from Surrey, England. Both couples were a pleasure to be with and Mil, the woman from Edinburgh, was a real delight. The six of us moved to the rear compartment of the upper deck and enjoyed each other’s company for the duration of the trip. “There’s a reason for everything,” said Mil, motioning toward the boisterous foursome. We soon forgot them as Mil launched into her tale of living on the same street as J.K. Rowling before the Harry Potter author became famous. Mil also mentioned another writer who lived nearby and went on to become famous. The name escapes me, but I do recall Mil’s punch line: “We called our street . . . writer’s block.”
We pulled into the rail station in Quesnel, much later than anticipated due to work on the train tracks along the scheduled route and a wait while railcars hauling freight switched tracks. But no one seemed to care, me included, as a group of us stood outside on our railcar to enjoy the sunny day and to shoot photos. We were rewarded with a bear sighting. He appeared more interested in foraging for food than the train.
Our accommodations for the night, the Best Western Plus Tower Inn, wouldn’t rate even a four star, never mind a five, as someone on the train remarked. A true statement, but the room was clean and spacious, and the bed comfortable. We decided on room service but heard the hotel did not offer this amenity, so we headed downstairs to the dining room and asked a passing server to confirm this. She nodded, but quickly said, “Here’s a menu. Order whatever you’d like and we will box the meals to go.” We thanked her and the kitchen staff, who were most obliging.
We ate our French dip sandwiches in our room, washed them down with wine we had purchased the day before in Whistler, and critiqued our second leg of our rail tour on the Rocky Mountaineer—five stars being top-notch. The service and waitstaff easily won five stars—no debate there. The food, four stars, and as many of our train companions stated, “We didn’t expect the meals to be this good.”
We retired early, ready for our next rail adventure—Quesnel to Jasper, where we planned to disembark from the Rocky Mountaineer and spend two days exploring the area.
