29th May Cicely, Alaska
Snow covered mountains distant, the air crystal clear.
Hard to believe that I am actually here.
What an adventure!
The train serenely speeds through the Alaskan plains,
Spectacular views all around and afar
Comfortably sat in my observation car.
So many inane and inept phrases come to mind
Holiday of a lifetime!
As I struggle to describe to myself what I can see and
find.
The ferry journeys for days uncomfortably from Vancouver
Glaciers, islands, humpback whales; but it was so cold!
I know I was warned, but I wouldn’t be told.
Now sitting back and enjoying trying to spot
The abundance of wildlife, moose and grizzly bear.
It’s just out there!
I shake my head, chuffed, pleased with myself
I knew I could do it, even at my age, I could ask
To fly and ferry, bus and train second class.
Another new country ticked away
Just awesome. Train almost to myself!
This is so the way to travel
Suddenly there is a lurch and a shudder.
And another.
The engine sounding not right. And we grind to a noisy halt.
And I waited.
“Hey folks! This is your driver speaking.
We seem to have run into a little problem.
Please stay in your seats. Take a moment to wait.
Now, don’t you go and getting worry…
I’ll all get it fixed in a hurry.”
And I waited.
“Sorry sir. We have engine problems.
We’re in touch with the depot.
We’ll have to shunt into sidings.”
The conductor smiled, confident and calm:
“If you want to stretch your legs just go ahead.”
But be careful. It’s cold out there.
It’ll be minus 20 later tonight.
But we’ll get something sorted, you’ll be alright.
In a while longer than we are led to expect.
There was a coach or two or three that came to collect.
And the others go a separate way.
Ours plays ‘Chris on the radio’ all the way.
And as the morning turned to afternoon we drove
To a little town,
So wild-west and run-down.
Called Cicely.
There must have been twenty of us on the coach from the
train.
Looking bedraggled, confused about where we were in main;
We were ushered into
An establishment, a bar, restaurant they called ‘The
Brick’
Maurice was there. Apologising sincerely and promising
To put everyone stranded by the train
In the best accommodation available. As much was able.
“Now, you are all guests of our town.
Make yourselves at home. You will be well cared for”
He said.
And Chris on the radio played the blues.
Holling was busy cooking us all steaks and frites
With Shelly bustling about with her wide hospitality
smile
“What can I get for you? It’s all on the house!”
An old man, dressed in a backwoodsman way,
Beckoned me over.
“You’re not here for the shooting then?”
And ignored my hesitated reply, pouring me a shot
Of whatever he was drinking from his flask.
Decline I did not.
A native American man with long black hair laughed
As I coughed. “It won’t do you no harm” said Ed.
And the evening progressed through substantial food
And drink. All apparently free.
Music live from Chris piped in
And laughter and an ethereal feel
And bingo. All rather unreal.
I don’t remember going to my room.
But it was spacious, clean and fine.
And the strange sensation I am inclined
To say. Continued.
I am sure Tlingit natives danced in the street
During the night.
But I can’t be sure.
The coach was waiting for us bleary-eyed
After an early snatched breakfast.
Coffee and pastry left out for us.
Nobody said goodbye.
And like some sort of brig-a-doon
With no sense of closure.
I feel I’ve had just a bit of Northern Exposure.
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