Waiting . . .

Deep in the bowels of Toronto' historic Union Station, Jools and I - along with a handful of other patient souls - await the arrival of the 20:31 from Montreal. Union is a wonderful pile right in the heart of the city. Twenty years ago, the council planned to flatten it, now it's a national monument, upon which many millions of dollars are being spent to increase its passenger - and moneymaking - capacity. About time, too, beneath its marvelous booking hall, the place has more in common with a gloomy, menacing 19th Century asylum than a modern travel hub . . .