Down East, Day One

This is the start of my two-week plus bike trip in the Maritimes. And the first part is already exciting: I am taking the train from Toronto to Moncton, where my friends will meet me to begin our cycling trip. And as I write this, we are leaving Montreal aboard "The Ocean", crossing the Victoria Bridge built over a century ago from the little working-class town known as Goose Village, near Point St-Charles, across the wide river to the South Shore. In it's day, a huge and unprecedented task, which claimed many workers' lives. And still a good strong bridge when newer bridges built in the 60's are beginning to crumble.

Even the trip into Toronto was not without drama. I woke a few days ago with a flare of arthritis in one of my ankles, and it had become red and painful, in spite of anti-inflammatories. But it seemed better today when we started. However, it skewed my thinking and I did not fully tie my bike onto the rack on the car, so while driving, I noticed it as it came partly off the rack. A hurried stop on the QEW was in order, and we were off to Union Station for my train. And the ride to Montreal was just fine. Trains are really the right way to go. Lunch served on real plates with real knives and forks, and a glass of wine to boot.

An hour in Gare Centrale in Montreal, then onto the train, bound for Halifax. Winding up the South Shore, past the hills of Drummondville and beyond into the darkness, I joined an itinerant American for supper, a retired athletics prof from a private college in upper New York, who said he was off to walk across Newfoundland. After correcting his pronunciation of Newfoundland, I tried with some success to correct his views of socialized medicine and the value of public funding and taxation. Then to bed.

One final note: one of the staff on the train thought I was Eric Clapton! I was impressed, at least.

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Location:Montreal,Canada