Two nights, three provinces, and 1,600 miles. A sleeper train through Maritime Canada is slow travel at its best.

While I slowly woke up, the train rumbled along the tracks, and I watched the broad blue expanse of Chaleur Bay slowly pass by. Across the water, the hills and cliffs of the Gaspé and Acadian peninsulas were visible. It was as if the entire scene had been timed perfectly for the morning entertainment of the train’s passengers.

I was traveling Via Rail Canada’s Ocean route from Montreal to Halifax. The train wasn’t as glamorous as the Rocky Mountaineer, nor was the scenery as grand as the Winnipeg to Churchill trip. But Via Rail’s 22-hour route is a lovely travel throwback with gorgeous scenery. Thanks to the strength of the US dollar against the Canadian dollar, I was able to score a sleeper car with a private bathroom (complete with a shower) for $400 a night. It also helped that I was traveling during mud season. Rates go up during the summer and into foliage season.

The fare included all meals, which were served in the dining car on actual plates with actual flatware. I reasoned that I was getting a room, all meals, and the constant entertainment of the ever-changing landscape for $400 a night. That seemed like a decent deal. I decided to book my return to Montreal on the train as well. That would give me a solid 44 hours on board.

The train departed Montreal at 7 p.m. on Friday and was scheduled to arrive in Halifax at 5:51 p.m on Saturday. I was curious to see how Via Rail, Canada’s national rail company, compared with Amtrak, particularly its sleeper cars. As I cased out my room, I watched the Farine Five Roses sign and the rest of the Montreal skyline disappear behind us. My cabin was designed for two people, but I wanted a room with an en suite bath and shower. The cabin was about 30 square feet (not including the bathroom). It had a sofa that folded down to a bed, with a bunk bed that folded down above it. There was a narrow closet, and in the bathroom, there were towels, a bottle of shampoo, and a bar of soap.

It wasn’t the Ritz, but it was clean and cozy. These cars were built for the canceled European Nightstar train service in the late 1990s. The trains would have used the Chunnel to take passengers from London to cities in mainland Europe. When the project failed to materialize, Via Rail bought the cars and shipped them to Canada in 2000. Despite being in service for nearly 25 years, the train was in good shape.

After inspecting and unpacking, it was dinner time. We were well on our way to Quebec City by the time I sat down and perused the menu. I opted for leek-crusted chicken with wild rice pilaf and roasted butternut squash. This was better than any meal I had ever consumed on an Amtrak train. I was seated with a retired sports editor (pure coincidence) from New York. He had taken most of the Amtrak overnight trains in the United States and now wanted to sample Canada’s offerings.

He agreed with me that the food was better than Amtrak, and the train cars were generally in better condition, but he pointed out something I hadn’t noticed: The staff was much friendlier than the staff on Amtrak, and it made a huge difference. One of my chief complaints, particularly on Amtrak’s Silver Meteor, is that the staff often seemed surly.

By the time I finished dinner and returned to my room, the attendant had made up the bed. I decided I would try sleeping in the bunk, but I quickly soured on the idea when I realized the only way in and out was a narrow ladder. The bunk seemed a bit high for my liking. I folded it back and slept on the lower bed. The bed is 6 feet long and about 2½ feet wide, so it may not be ideal for taller passengers. The mattress was comfortable, and the comforter was wonderfully thick. Each cabin has individual temperature controls, so even though the temperature was in the single digits outside, I was tucked away comfortably for the night. I’m a light sleeper, but I dozed off quickly.

The next morning, it was time to test the shower. To my shock and delight, the water was hot enough, and the pressure wasn’t bad. I went to the dining car and tried the breakfast poutine. I concluded that poutine is a perfect all-day meal. I wrote “open 24-hour poutine restaurant” in my notebook and watched as the train gradually made its way inland. My breakfast companion was a retired teacher from Montreal who was going to visit her grandchildren in Halifax.

“Don’t you dare write anything bad about this train,” she sternly warned me as only a teacher could. “It’s my favorite way to get to Nova Scotia. If it shuts down I’ll blame you.”

The scenery out the window was always changing. When I left Montreal, it was gray. Coastal New Brunswick was snowy and bright, and as the train descended south, the snow disappeared, and the sky darkened. By the time we neared the Bay of Fundy, it was snowing, and then it was raining, and then the sun started peaking out.

The biggest frustration was that the train was running two hours behind schedule. I had made dinner reservations in Halifax for Saturday night but missed them because of the delay. I had one night in the city before getting back on the train the next day and lost precious time.

Another frustration I faced was that the train’s observation car was no longer used. One of the best parts of taking a scenic train is, well, watching the scenery. I could still see the countryside from my room, the lounge, or the restaurant, but the glass-domed observation car on the Ocean route was removed two years ago because of a track change in Halifax. Having that car would have made the experience even more special.

I got back on the train Sunday afternoon, settled into my new room, which was identical to the previous one, and headed back to the cafe car for lunch. All of this investigative reporting was really adding inches to my waistline. I tried the gnocchi pomodoro and decided to treat myself to a glass of local wine. Unlike Amtrak, alcohol is not free in Via Rail’s sleeper class. Again, I was impressed with the menu options, service, and food.

I watched the small towns blur past from the lounge car, one of the few places on the train where the internet was available. Even so, it was usually empty. The pace of train travel, devoid of the internet, is a rare treat. Eventually, a pair of sisters came into the lounge car and asked me if I wanted to play cards with them. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I played cards, so I put down my camera and began a game of rummy. I can imagine that this was what travel was like before planes or even cars. Without screens, I was actually looking up, talking to people, and playing a game that wasn’t on my phone.

That night, before I went to bed, I opened my laptop and started scrolling through the photos I’d taken throughout the trip. I frantically scrolled up and down, looking for a big “wow” photo. I needed a picture with pizazz. Then I stopped scrolling and looked at the pictures together. This trip wasn’t about flashy sites or Instagrammable moments. It was a long weekend of fluffy waffles, snow banks, blue rivers, and expansive brown fields.

Mostly, however, it was about taking a moment to slow down and breathe.

Christopher Muther can be reached at christopher.muther@globe.com. Follow him @Chris_Muther and Instagram @chris_muther.