Day T-2

I woke up at 5:30 AM Pacific time, still trying to cling to the dream that I could sleep until we pulled into Victoria. The train ride through the mountains at dusk had been serene, but by morning, the novelty had worn off—I was ready for solid ground. I spent the final hours following our progress on the maps as we rolled through Chilliwack and over the nation’s busiest train bridge.

In Vancouver, Shayne and I explored a few blocks while waiting for our bus connection. I recall giving $2.50 to a kid who claimed he needed $5 for a ticket home. Looking back, my younger self was a bit of a soft touch; I knew it was likely a scam, but I figured I'd want someone to take a chance on me if I were stuck. Seeing him run off when he caught me watching him pull the same line on someone else an hour later was a classic 'welcome to the city' moment.

My first impression of Vancouver wasn't great—it felt 'dirty' and unappealing, a drab architecture nightmare from the seventies. But Victoria? Victoria was a revelation. Clean streets, buskers, no oppressive high-rises—it reminded me of Ottawa in the best way. I even found myself thinking I could move here. The ferry ride over was a beautiful transition, seeing seals in the water and those incredible homes overlooking the ocean.

We ended the day at Melissa’s house, reassembling the bikes and taking a short walk by the Pacific. But then came the reality check: we realized the ride to Nanaimo is over double the distance we originally plotted. Our carefully built schedule is already getting its first trial, and we haven't even officially started.

This is our last day on the train. In one sense it is a relief—we will be able to sleep comfortably tonight—and in another regard it is disappointing to leave since the train ride is such a pleasant way to see the country. The Winnipeg station is a beautiful old building constructed around 1909. It has a large dome and there is a tree lined avenue leading up to its main entrance.

It is partly cloudy on the ride down the Fraser Valley. I wake around 5:00a and return to the observation deck to watch the shadows slowly creep down the mountains. Once we get through Hope, we enter the wide Fraser Valley. As we pass through Fort Langley we see the Centennial Trail that we will be riding. While eating breakfast, I see a bald eagle soaring around a field.

We arrive in Vancouver two and a half hours late at 10:30a. Something about Vancouver bothers me. It seems dirty and grimey, maybe because I have been away from a city for three days. The bus takes us out to the ferry at Tsawwassen. I am instantly impressed with the Gulf Islands. The houses are beautiful and simple, built on gently rolling hills with sheer cliffs.

Upon arrival in Victoria, we pile our gear into a couple taxi cabs and drive to a friend's house on Oswego Street. Before we crash, her partner Phil helps us reassemble our bikes. Everything appears to have survived the 4600km journey. We are here.