The return of the young man

Early yesterday morning,  the young man started his return home for Christmas break. The trip requires a lot of patience and travelling. His day begins with a cab ride to the bus station, then a two-hour bus ride from Sherbrooke, Quebec to Montreal. In Montreal he catches the subway to the train station (Mom forked out the money for the express train). The train ride from Montreal to Toronto takes approximately five and a half hours. Once in Toronto, he catches another train, which will take him to Aldershot, where he will be picked up by his father. The entire trip takes approximately nine hours, so he is quite the tired camper when he arrives home.

When he started his trip yesterday, I sent him a text message, this was how our conversation went:

Mom: Have a safe trip today.

The young man: Pretty sure the bus is going to crash.

Mom: Why of why do you say these things to me?

The young man: I can’t even see my hand in front of my face, it’s so white out and I’m in the bus.

Mom: Are you serious or are you just freaking me out.

The young man: Oh, it’s my turn to drive now, can’t talk. The driver lost his arm to a wild boar, so we’ve been rotating.

Mom: Geez. Love you. I’m off to the market now.

The young man: Don’t forget to actually buy, and bring food home.

Mom: I’ve bought milk, one is defrosting, plus cereal, and chewy bars. Now I just need Brussel sprouts to go with the ribs.

The young man: NO! My first meal home is not going to be Brussel sprouts. I refuse. Buy good food. Broccoli.

Mom: Wide grin.

The young man: Cauliflower. Beans. Potatoes.

Mom: Squash.

The young man: No, ew. Didn’t you get the memo? Contrary to popular belief, everything isn’t about you. You have a child (which you seemingly forgot about) who wants to eat. You have to cater to everybody. Surprise.

Mom: I have to make your sister happy too.

The young man: She doesn’t like food. It’s pointless.

Mom: She likes veggies. Gotta go bye. How is your window seat I bought for you?

The young man: Could be better.

Mom: How?

The young man: It’s fine.

Mom: Okay, enjoy. Text me when you get into Toronto. Your dad is picking you up in Aldershot right?

The young man: Yes. I don’t suppose the GoTrain station is where the GO buses are, right?

Mom: No. They are in union, down 2 floors. I think.

The young man: Score. So I don’t have to walk anywhere?

Mom: Not really, it is under construction, and a mess.

The young man: Yeah, its been under construction since I’ve been born so I’m used to it. (Mom: Not true)

Mom: Whereabouts are you, besides on a train?

The young man: Golly you know me so well.

Mom: Yep.

The young man: Passing some trees.

Mom: Ass

The young man: I need a landmark.

Mom: I was thinking towns, cities, but it might be to fast for you (referring to the speed of the train).

The young man: We haven’t passed a road lately, so no idea. I’m in this really big forest area, though. I bet if you Google map it from space, you could see it, it’s that big. It’ll be a big green blob.

Mom: Your sister says for you to turn on location on your phone, then Google map yourself.

The young man: Oh I know, but where’s the fun? Look. I describe landmarks and you guess. I spy with my little eye a big field. Probably a farm.

Mom: That will never work, I can’t guess who sings a song so why would I be able to figure that out.

The young man: PING. Whoops

Mom: Why are you pinging me?

The young man: ahem note the “whoops”

Mom: Sticks tongue out.

My trip to Lennoxville, Quebec

Yesterday my morning started with the alarm going off at 6 a.m., for my trip to Lennoxville. Anyways, I got dressed, did my face, packed the rest of my stuff and headed for the local bus. The first train I took was a GoTrain. It would have been nice if the ticket man had bothered to tell me that cars 22 & 25 are accessible when I purchased my ticket. Instead I lugged my very heavy knapsack and large suitcase (4 day trip but middle child had a list of stuff for me to bring) up into the train. Oh well, I did spill my coffee all over the ticket agents kiosk.

Within an hour, I arrived at Union station in Toronto and a very nice lady tapped me on the shoulder directing me to the elevator, I was in the line for the stairs and she knew I would have tumbled down probably bringing the rest of them with me. Okay, if you have never been to Union station in the morning rush hour, well it is a zoo and of course there are ‘under construction’ everywhere making matters worse. Luckily, I finally found the right direction to go for my next train ride on Via Rail, but it was on the upper floor and apparently there was no elevator to be found according to some guy I asked. I stood at the bottom of the 20 million stairs and gasped as I looked up. I lugged my heavy knapsack which is tied to my very large, heavy suitcase and lifted it up one stair and stopped. I am never going to make it I thought and of course murmured my favourite word fuck. As I stood there bewildered and sort of blocking the stairs, a nice gentleman looked at me and asked if I needed help? I smiled my biggest smile and said oh yes, thank you. My knapsack and suitcase are now at the top of the 20 million stairs.

Next I am in a short line for my ticket for Montreal, then on to gate 17 which has a long line, but this is when I do not mind being disabled – Preboarding! The Via Rail agent takes me to the elevator and next thing you know, I am the first one in my car and I have first choice of a seat. Yes! And coffee soon comes. My morning is getting better.

No surprise here, the Via train was late getting to Montreal. Apparently a freight train was on the track in some sort of ‘emergency’ situation. I was expecting to see flames but nothing, instead we just sat there for twenty minutes. It now looks like I will be late for my next connection. Crap.

I arrived in Montreal and the Via stewards are all very nice wanting to assist me (looking for a tip) so I let the steward take my luggage and he says he will meet me upstairs under the red ball in two or three minutes. Another ten minutes go by, I am not happy, his tip will be crap. Off to my cab and I told him he has fifteen minutes to get me to the Central Bus station, yes, in rush hour. He gets a nice tip, even though I gained more grey hair with his driving, I make my bus.

Immediately I fell asleep on the Montreal to Sherbrooke bus and before I knew it, I was hauling another cab to take me to my daughter’s apartment.

The bonus, she has made stew in the slow cooker (without a recipe) and it tastes good.