Monocle arrives at Winnipeg’s Union Station an hour early for the 12.05 train. The station is almost deserted and we only have a handful of travellers for company. There are no departure boards, no other trains and no shops (though thankfully there are a couple of vending machines).

We end up sitting in this cold, echoey hall for almost seven hours; hour after hour, the train is delayed. It finally sets off at 17.45. Downtown Winnipeg in subzero temperatures 1 / 2 Downtown Winnipeg in subzero temperatures 1 / 2 Deer 1 Almond restaurant in Winnipeg 2 / 2 The route:Winnipeg to Churchill Riding the rails The question arises soon after boarding: will the “magic” of Churchill that tourism websites tout be enough to justify this ride?

The Hudson Bay Railway is not the Orient Express. The rail cars, built at the height of the Cold War in the 1950s, feel frozen in time. Made to service routes to remote places, their corridors are so narrow that only one person can pass at a time.

The single-berth rooms – in a shade of mint green – might once have been considered a marvel of ergonomic design but are lacking by today’s standards. Every berth includes a chair facing a steel pull-down sink resembling those found in prison cells. A toilet, which doubles as a coffee table, is positioned in the centre of the cabin.

At night the bed, on a hulking metal frame, slides out on top of the toilet. It’s like sleeping in the bathroom of a commuter train. Attendant Tev Judd, who has worked on the rails for seven years, gives us a tour.

Down the long hallway is a single shower, to be shared between the passengers. Past two sets of bunk beds are bathrooms and the dining car. “Just roll with it,” says Dave, a fellow passenger who works as a photographer for Via Rail Canada.

He has done the trip once before and refuses to elaborate further. Stopping at The Pas (pronounced ‘The Paw’) station on Via Rail Canada’s Hudson Bay line For the next two days, the train groans, shakes and rattles along, taking us further into the frozen wilderness at what feels like 30 miles (48km) an hour. It’s like a kids’ train at an amusement park but sometimes slower because in winter the steel tracks contract and can snap.

In the tiny towns that we chug through, dogs run up to bark at the train – and then outrun it. That first night, seven sleeper passengers linger at the metal tables in the fluorescently lit dining car and, unsurprisingly, are in no rush to return to their toilet-stall bedrooms. For dinner, Lana, the cook, recommends the microwaved butter chicken, though she has never tried it.

“We bring our own food,” she says, a little disconcertingly. The next morning early birds Francine St Germaine and Michel Vinet are back in the dining car to watch the sunrise. A hot-pink halo forms over a patch of scrubby, tall pine trees like a UFO.

Vinet worked for Via Rail Canada for 28 years – freight from 1974 to 2004, then passenger service until 2013. His whole family has worked on the railroad. “I helped to rebuild this track and it’s the only one left that I haven’t ridden,” he says.

“I have always wanted to go to Churchill to see its bears, northern lights and nature.” The train has a capacity of 124 people in coach and 14 with beds. Our train carries 13 in total: nine passengers in sleeper rooms and four crew. This doesn’t count those who get on and off along the way in the coach section.

Passenger Michel Vinet, who worked for Via Rail Canada for 28 years 1 / 2 Passenger Michel Vinet, who worked for Via Rail Canada for 28 years 1 / 2 Francine St Germaine of Montréal 2 / 2 The map in the carriage shows a string of communities that this single rail line stitches together. These range from small Indigenous towns with populations as small as 148 to Thompson, with about 12,300 residents. People take the train to stock up at the big-box shop in Thompson, then return with plastic bins filled with groceries, supplies, nappies and car parts.

After Thompson, there are no roads leading to Churchill so, unless you fly, this is the only way to get there. That first morning, the other inmates have a not-terrible breakfast of scrambled eggs. Heidi, an Inuit woman who works for a non-profit company, is here from Ottawa.

She’s on a long break from everyday life and is seeking to return to nature to reflect and reset. Forest Gustavson, a cheerful, colourfully tattooed wildlife photographer, is making this journey to celebrate his birthday. “The ride gives you time to contemplate our role in the world,” he says. “An