The SkyTrain of My Dreams

Although the SkyTrain sounds like a fictional storybook device, it really exists in Vancouver, B.C. You don't have to know a secret password or pay in gold coins to get a ticket, but you do have to slide a magic card through this giant computer. Fortunately, Matisse's dad had one of these in his wallet.

I guess you already know that my family visited Canada two weekends ago. (If you didn't, better catch up on your reading over at Mom's blog.) Our last day there it was pouring rain and I was worried we wouldn't get to go out, but our friends said, "What better day to ride the SkyTrain?"
It didn't matter that it was all wet outside, because we were inside the whole time. In fact, we were underground half the time. We started our journey by descending into a tunnel station. (Note the Winter Olympics poster behind me and Dad -- that great sporting event just wrapped up. No, we didn't go. This was my first trip to Canada.)
I've been a little obsessed with trains lately -- I don't need much encouragement to run through my litany of sound effects: choo, choo, toot, toot, ding, ding, pshhhhhhh (that's the steam pressure release valve). So this was pretty thrilling for me.
With a great whoosh of air, the train zoomed through the tunnel and stopped right in front of us. Doors slid open and we stepped aboard.
And much to my surprise, there was no one driving! My friend Matisse hustled to make sure we got the best seat: the front row, looking right out the windshield. We could pretend we were driving, which was cool, but didn't exactly answer my question about how the trains were moving or knew when to stop. Matisse said he figured the trains stopped at the stations because they didn't want their passengers to be late. Maybe... There was a man sitting behind us who looked to be in a hurry. We weren't, though.
We rode out to the airport, just for fun, crossing this arty bridge in the process. And several trains passed us going in the opposite direction. I kept looking for the engine or the caboose, to no avail. I really would rather ride a steam train. No offense, SkyTrain.
At the airport (a mere 15 or 20 minutes away), we got off and Mom got a coffee in the terminal and Matisse and I played around a giant sculpture. Then we rode the train home and I noticed it didn't even turn around at the end of the line, it just reversed direction. I guess it would be hard for a steam train to do that. OK, I will admit it was pretty cool to be watching jet planes take off out the window of our moving SkyTrain. A transportation nut's dream come true!
But all the excitement made me hungry -- and sleepy. I spent much of the ride back in Mommy's arms. Yawn...sweet dreams!