HELL'S GATE, Avalanche Alley, Jaws of Death gorge. Only a few hours into an epic rail journey through the Canadian wilderness, the names echo some of the dangers faced by thousands of labourers who hacked and dynamited a way from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Dozens died building the Canadian Pacific Railway, a project that many dismissed as madness. In British Columbia alone, 6,000 Chinese, many from Guangzhou, were recruited. Workers were exposed to landslides, explosives mishaps, snow storms, smallpox epidemics, scurvy, and attacks by grizzly and black bears, but amazingly the railroad, spanning 4,600 kilometres, was completed on November 7, 1885, after only 54 months - six years ahead of schedule. The rail gangs had overcome the seemingly insurmountable barrier of the Rocky Mountains and other ranges and bridged many raging rivers to open up the interior and bring isolated British Columbia into the Confederation. It signalled the birth of Canada. William Van Horne, president of Canadian Pacific Railway, announced after the last spike had been hammered home: 'If we can't export the scenery, we'll import the tourists'. Prophetic words. At seven in the morning I make my way through the grand portico of Vancouver's imposing main railway station, a living monument to those halcyon days, to embark on one of the world's great rail journeys, on board the luxurious Rocky Mountaineer. We will travel more than 1,000km, eventually clawing our way up the awesome Rockies, over the Continental Divide, and on to the famous national park town of Banff. The journey will end in oil-rich Calgary in Alberta, whose gleaming, showy skyscrapers huddle together against the often icy winds of the surrounding prairie. The beauty of travelling GoldLeaf class on board the Rocky Mountaineer is that it has two decks. Guests sit in a glass-domed carriage which commands unhindered views of the endless wild terrain of British Columbia and the Rockies. Attendants regularly serve complimentary snacks, coffee, and soft drinks as the journey unfolds, giving an informative commentary on a multitude of historic landmarks. Exquisite cuisine is served in the dining car downstairs, accompanied by fine wines, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafts up the stairs as the train gets under way. The beauty of the Rocky Mountaineer is that you don't miss any of the scenery. It operates only in daylight hours. On this first day we will alight at Kamloops, 460km east of Vancouver, where we will be bussed to local hotels. Our suitcases will be waiting at reception, trucked ahead from Vancouver, allowing us to change for dinner, which is included in the package. Early tomorrow morning, we'll shuttle back to the small railway station to rejoin the Rocky Mountaineer. A long haul this second day, 515km of increasingly spectacular scenery, up and over the Continental Divide to Banff and a further 137km to Calgary. We'll also say goodbye to some of our fellow passengers before we leave Kamloops, for some carriages will be uncoupled and attached to another engine, to branch off on the line to Jasper, 450km northeast, another kaleidoscope of scenic wonders. It's champagne all round as the Rocky Mountaineer pulls out of Vancouver station, and rail staff line up at the side of the track to wave us off. Then it's breakfast time and we make our way down from the observation dome to the dining car where tables for four encourage passengers to break the ice. I'll sit with new acquaintances at each meal. Most GoldLeaf passengers are middle-aged or elderly. They have made their money, expect the best and are prepared to pay for it. GoldLeaf class is not cheap. The two-day journey costs about C$1,190 (about HK$6,000) all inclusive. In the RedLeaf class coaches behind, which comprise single-deck carriages, the cost is about C$700. But there are no fuddy-duddys here: GoldLeaf passengers are well-travelled. At breakfast I sit with two sisters who are well into their 70s. They tell me I must visit Kunming in China ('China's a real eye-opener. We couldn't figure out, though, why every time we went into a restaurant the plates seemed to be cracked'). I feel my face redden. The sisters live in Vancouver. Though my home is Hong Kong, Kunming is one destination on my own 'must-do' list that has yet to be ticked off. We discuss Beijing and Xian, and the conversation switches to some of the other countries they have visited recently. Turkey ('wonderful, friendly people, we spent three weeks there'), Egypt, and Arabia. The sisters have even travelled on board the QE2. I will lunch with a retired British forensic scientist, a rail buff who spends much of his spare time travelling Britain's scenic tracks. This journey has been his life-long ambition. Later, I meet a former Cathay Pacific pilot who was based in Hong Kong for 10 years and now works part-time in his native Australia, training pilots. The Rocky Mountaineer is just the beginning of his holiday. After this, he'll join a cruise to Alaska. We pass through the small town of Hope around 120km from Vancouver, a story-book setting of mountains whose steep slopes are densely carpeted with firs. It acquired its name in 1848, because it was 'hoped' its location would provide an easier route for fur traders of the Hudson's Bay Company. A little further on, in the blink of an eye we pass through Yale. In the gold rush days around 1860 its population exploded to 30,000. Now, officially there is a head-count of just 169. We are now in a wilderness of raging rivers, mineral-rich rainbow coloured lakes, and hills on which you could lose yourself among the millions of packed firs. Disused telegraph poles still line the track, abandoned and wilting under the weight of the copper wiring they support. They stretch ahead for hundreds of kilometres, decaying historic treasures that could enrich antique dealers or scrap metal merchants. But they will eventually crash to the ground and rot, for the tracks are so remote, it is estimated it would cost C$500 to remove each pole. The train attendants fire the imagination with tales of the ordeals and bravery of the trappers and explorers who struggled through this landscape long before the iron horse arrived, often rafting into the unknown. The Rocky Mountaineer now threads its way through a canyon in which a series of concrete shelters protect the line from rock slides and thundering avalanches of snow that are a constant threat in winter. Later, ospreys pop their heads out from thick nests built on top of telegraph poles by the track. They return to the same nests each year, and rail crews neatly clip the nests each winter when the birds have migrated south. The train slows as we enter Kamloops where we will spend the night. A graveyard stands near the track, littered with small white crosses. They mark the graves of Native Americans, but all are empty. The Indians used to carry their dead to the summits of the two holy mountains behind town, where they were cremated. When the white man arrived, the missionaries forbade the practice, and insisted the dead be buried in the graveyard. At night the Indians would dig up their relatives and climb off in the darkness, carrying fire sticks. On day two we pass through the Hoodoos shortly after leaving Kamloops, a region of surreal and ghostly rock formations, eroded sediment on what was once the floor of a glacial lake. On to Shuswap Lake, famous for its houseboats and salmon, and we are coming into bear country. 'Some of the people around here can be a little strange,' an attendant warns. A minute later, a passenger yells: 'Bare on the left.' A fisherman waves to the train. He is naked. We pass through Craigellachie. There's not much to see, but the last spike was driven in here to complete the trans-Canadian railway. Here, east met west. That historic piece of track has been lifted and preserved nearby. The gradient continues to steepen, and the train slows, surrounded and challenged by the stark, towering beauty of the proud Rockies. This day we will climb to a height of nearly 2,000 metres, but the sheer, snow-clad mountains still dwarf us on either side. Passengers stand open-mouthed. Man had overcome impossible odds to conquer this seemingly impenetrable barrier with dynamite, basic tools and buckets of sweat. The gradient here up to the Continental Divide was once so steep that at times trains plunged back down the track, steel sliding on steel, to become mangled wrecks beaten by the Rockies. Now the Spiral Tunnels, figure-eight in design and a marvel of engineering, burrow in and out of the mountains, offering a safe gradient. Breathless, we stop at Banff, the national park headquarters where the Canadian Pacific Railway, which had a monopoly on tourism in those early days, built the Banff Springs Hotel for its passengers. The granite hotel, which resembles a Scottish castle, still stands proudly among the Rockies, and is a tourist attraction in itself. Most of the passengers disembark here, but I stay on board, and a troop of waiters conga-dance through the observation carriage with trays of freshly baked snacks and wine, as we make our descent into the foothills in Alberta. Soon we are surrounded by the vast prairie and as darkness falls, we pull into Calgary, where our cases are waiting on the platform, once more trucked ahead as we soaked up the scenery. What better way to end one of the world's most spectacular train journeys than to spend the night in the elegant and opulent Palliser Hotel above the station. A bell boy collects my luggage on the platform, and leads the way. Check out the Web site for Rocky Mountaineer Railtours at www.rocky mountaineer.com or fax (604) 606 7250 for information. The rail company organises regular tours lasting from two to 12 days. They can be booked through Concorde Travel in Hong Kong, Tel 2526 3319, fax 2845 0485. For Palliser Hotel reservations and information, phone (403) 262 1234 or fax (403) 260 1260