The train to nowhere |
To some people, going back in time is an absolute no-no! Their argument is that they live in the present and they strive for the future. I can live with this. It is their life and they are entitled to their opinion. In my case, I am perfectly at ease with my past and I feel quite comfortable revisiting it at every opportunity I have. Some will argue I live in a dream. I sort of agree with that and my next question is "why not?" What is so wrong about enjoying the past. Let me explain with another 'short story'.
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When I was about thirteen years old, I dreamed of long trips to the unknown... my preferred mode of travel then was the train and, when I could get away, the big transatlantic ships from Canadian Pacific Steamships (but... that's another story coming up soon). Yes, trains... complete with steam engines and all as it was the only sort of train we had in those days. Living in Montréal in those days was just great if only because, with as little as twenty-five cents, one could literally travel to the end of the world, at least in one's dream! I can see it as if it was yesterday. It was a nice, warm mid summer day and the big question of the day was "what to do today?". I would take the tramway and head to the CNR Central Station where the 'adventure' would begin.
In those days, train travel was the preferred means of travel as very few people owned cars. There was always a crowd at the station. Across from the Station was a huge gaping hole. You would look down and see the trains as they left the Station which was located behind you across the street (Dorchester Boulevard). You would follow the train as they left, pulled by an electric engine, and they would enter a tunnel and then slowly disappear below the city. The underground tunnel passed under the Mount Royal and headed north toward Ville Mont Royal.
The name of the game here was to board the train and pretend we were heading on a long journey, perhaps to the Maritimes or Gaspesia or perhaps, just Québec City. In actual fact, ten cents bought us a ticket to a stop near Cremazie Boulevard where we would leave the train. From there, we could either wait for the next one heading back to the Station or we could take a bus and go visit St Joseph Oratory or other interesting places.
The point I am making here is that for the measly sum of ten cents or so, we could 'live' an experience. To take that ride, we had to go through the same precedure as if we were buying a ticket for Halifax. We had to make our way through a large crowd to the always busy ticket booths where we would buy our ticket. Then, we would join the crowd and go down to the loading platform where we would board our train. I always tried to get a 'good' seat by the window. Why? I don't really know because most of the trip was underground and you can stare at a rock wall for so long before you get bored.
The conductor would then make his way through each wagon and collect the tickets. Just as when you were heading for hundreds of miles away. It didn't take too great an imagination to play the game. And it was cheap. Today, it's game over. There is no more gaping hole where you could stand for hours, observing long trains leaving for and arriving from points unknown. The hole is covered with the Place Ville Marie Plaza and the Queen Elizabeth Hotel is filling the space over the old Railway Station. Often in the past years, I have closed my eyes and relived these moments.
I am very fortunate, and thankful, in that God gave me a good memory and I continue making good use of it. Many people, when they feel a need for evasion, pay a mini fortune to attend movies where they view other people's dreams... other people's version of fantasy land when, all they would need do is close their eyes and relive 'their' own pleasant past experiences. Think about it for a minute. Doesn't that make more sense?