Amtrak 479: part two (redemption)

So I guess you heard how I wasn't so cool on the first half of this trip up to Montreal? Well, that being said, the journey did take twelve and a half hours. I could have probably cycled faster than the speed the train was going. So after five hours of fear came five hours of redemption. As in, the journey redeemed itself after the initial rocky start to our relationship.

The train pulled itself upright and stopped slouching (I sound like my mum). Soon it left the murky swamps behind and passed through the most amazing lakes I have ever seen in my entire life. They made the Lake District look like puddles in a Tesco's car park.

The sky was the brightest of blues and a flurry of clouds could be seen symmetrically in the sky as well as reflected below in the perfect water. By now the track appeared to have improved somewhat and everyone in the carriage was glued to the windows with their mouths ajar.

This incredible view lasted for hours. We passed small pockets of houses which had been built into the cliff edges. Overlooking tiny fishing ports which consisted of a handful of trawlers and only a miniature pier. The place was incredible. But the serenity was eventually shattered by the conductor's foghorn of a voice.

He notified us the Canadian border patrol cops would be boarding and everyone had to have their passports at the ready. Back to reality. Next stop Montreal!