Interoperability and Intermodality: Or, Taking More Than One Train or Bus

I was reading recently about intermodal fares, the systems by which multiple modes of transit, and frequently multiple operators of transit, can be (or not be!) experienced as a single seamless whole by their customers through the use of shared payment systems, travelcards, etc.

I thought it might be useful to think through how this operates in three different cities I've visited in the past year or so, and what we might take from those cities about how cities in general can make this idea work for them.

1. Montréal and the Integration of Legacy and New-built Systems

Montréal appears in the article I was reading, and for good reason: the system allows you to pay based on zones across any transit you take in the city, regardless of what kind of transit you're taking in those zones.

This machine can get me tickets to the Metro, where it's located, but also to the buses, the REM, and the local commuter rail. 

Anywhere on this island is the same zone; how convenient! 

But what makes this notable is that these are systems with very different histories and operators: while a Metro expansion is finally coming sometime soon, the bulk of the Metro is very much a legacy system (as are the commuter trains) and the REM is completely new (well, not necessarily the track, but the service). It would be natural to imagine that if you set up a completely new system, operated by completely different operating companies, and functionally competing in many ways with the initial system, they would not integrate fares: after all, they didn't integrate the map (no REM above!) and the stations with interchanges still require you to tap out of one system, walk across to the other, and tap in again. 

It's by no means a seamless service. What it is is a service that doesn't charge you more or differently depending on which service you choose to take, and that's really important: it means not only that the REM was freed up to serve new parts of the island without worrying that lack of coverage in the downtown core would make it less useful but also that the Metro actually derives utility and ridership from the new areas that the REM opens up to that service. 

New systems, even ones not controlled by the same operator (e.g. TfL in London) do not have to be a problem for the old ones: if you properly integrate fares, you get a positive-sum interaction.

2. London and the Menu of Choices

Speaking of TfL, there are a lot of different ways to get around London. Some of them are TfL-owned or -branded (most, honestly) and some are not (hi, National Rail!) All share a common fare card, but unlike Montréal, not a common fare structure (except insofar as a travelcard daypass, monthly pass, or daily maximum payment might include multiple services). 

That's partly a feature of the sheer breadth of options available. Integrating the cost structure for heavy rail, metro, light rail, tram, bus, airways...it would be a nightmare. So you don't get quite a Montréal-style "just make it the same for everyone" result in London.

Instead, what you get is the opportunity to select from a menu of choices without being shut out of any, even if the costs may differ.

Stratford can have all these options and know that anyone getting into any of them (except the taxis) is going to have the "right" payment because they're all on the same scheme. You want to get somewhere from here? Go for it!

The bus in the center here will take your fare.

The Tube on this platform will take your fare.

OK, this freight train running on National Rail tracks probably will not take your fare, but pretty much everyone else will.

That may seem obvious, and thankfully as more and more places are just letting you tap any contactless card in and out it's becoming more and more widespread. But it's not always been true, and it's not true everywhere even now, that you can have that kind of payment system integration. And it makes a menu of choices much less overbearing to know that your card will get you on any of them--there's no secret way in which walking to the wrong faregate will get you stopped (I'm looking at you, Chicago Metra, which for a long time only took passes and not payment on the integrated fare card).

3. Toronto and Active Integration

Unlike both Montréal and London above, Toronto actually integrates not only the fare payment system but wherever possible the actual faregates across different modes.

Yes, it might be a long walk to the Finch West LRT, but I don't recall needing to swipe twice.

And when I got into the station on the LRT, I was already in a paid-fare zone for the subway.

Now, part of this is that they aren't, like London does with some transit modes, charging different fares for different modes. That makes it simpler to do this, and arguably shafts the worse modes (since it would make sense to pay less for that Finch West LRT than the subway, for certain values of making sense).

But it also makes the experience much more pleasant to actually go through.

So the overall takeaway for me here? The less barriers you can put to people actually using your service in concert with others in the city, the more productive transit in the city as a whole will be. Transit is the ultimate in positive-sum (even exponential) interactions: getting to a place via transit that not only goes somewhere else but connects to even more destinations is a force multiplier. The fewer barriers in terms of payment (both cost and method) that we can put up, the more benefit we will reap.

Airport Connections

How important is it that a city have a rail link to the airport?

Well, frankly, it's not that important, in the sense that there are lots of cities that don't, and the world has not ended.

But how important is it that a city have a high quality transit link to the airport? 

Well, that's a different question. I'd suggest that it's very important--for equity for those who don't have cars, for the reduction of traffic, exhaust, and other factors associated with cars going to the airport, and to reduce the amount of space that has to be given to cars around airports.

1. Rail and Transit Aren't the Same Thing

While transit advocates may sometimes be guilty of acting like a rail link to the airport is the only kind of transit that can work, it obviously isn't. To be clear: if you have a direct, regular stop on an already-useful rail line that stops at the airport, that's basically the gold standard here. 

Denver does this pretty well from Union Station, for instance. 

And I'm a big fan of Chicago's Blue Line El connecting directly to O'Hare.

But a good, consistent bus that has clear signage, lengthy operating hours, a relatively express trip, and frequent service can do plenty, like in Montréal, where the REM will eventually go to the airport but the 747 bus isn't bad right now.

Not bad timing at all.

Is it perfect? No. But it's good transit to the airport, and it's not hard at all to use or to then connect in to the rest of Montréal's transit. In fact, the ticket on the 747 is a daypass on the rest of the system within Montréal Zone A automatically, encouraging that transfer.

Then there are cities that do have a rail transit link to the airport but it's not well-implemented: e.g. Boston Logan.

I love the T, but "take a bus to the train to downtown and transfer again" is not the highest recommendation I could give to a "rail" link to the airport. Yes, the Silver Line exists, and it's not that bad, like the 747, but the implementation of the rail connection is mediocre at best. An airport subway station is not itself evidence of good transit to the airport.

2. Where Is the Terminal, Anyway?

Add to the above: where does the transit actually serve in and around the airport? A lot of airports rely on people movers to actually get people to and from the terminals where the planes are even if they've been dropped off by transit.

This example is Chicago, which is not the worst. Perhaps the worst is Seattle, where the transit connection to Link light rail requires a) a long walk from the terminal through the parking garage, with little assistance for the disabled, followed by b) using a people mover to actually get to some of the more distant terminals anyway. Neither the benefit of a close rail connection nor the speed of a people mover: the worst of both worlds somehow.

Look, I'll admit sometimes it's a function of size: O'Hare is huge, hence the need for the people mover. But there are other options. Heck, Heathrow has multiple Tube stations for its various terminals, which means that you don't have to switch transit modes, unlike the people mover model. More generally, it's worth considering: when you say you have transit to the airport, which part of the airport do you mean?

3. Foot Traffic

Now, I'll admit most airports don't do great at this. But you know what's better than just having a transit connection?

Allowing people to safely, easily, and efficiently walk to the airport.

And no, Boston, I don't mean the above giant roadway with a courtesy inclusion of a sidewalk.

I mean people actually wanting to walk in the space you provide. Technically the above photo is of the ferry to Billy Bishop in Toronto, but rest assured you can also walk through a tunnel underneath the lake, and it's very easy and drops you off in a nice enough neighborhood!

Obviously that's difficult for airports that are far from the city center and surrounded by hotels and parking lots. But hey--if you could minimize all that land used for car access, maybe you could make a few more of those airports walkable as well.

More generally: the better you do at making an airport approachable by other means than a car, the better the airport experience--train or not.

Finch West Feedback

Since I talked about the Eglinton Crosstown, I figure I should also say something about the Finch West light rail, which I rode during the same weekend.

This line has already received some negative feedback, especially in urbanist circles, to the point where there were immediate changes proposed after it opened. 

So today, I want to focus on the positives. Yes, I think it's less-well-implemented than the Eglinton line. But I think there are good bones there and for many cities I've been in the Finch West would be a major upgrade. Just...not Toronto. But let's look on the bright side today!

1. Clear, Effective Advertising

One critique I have of many transit expansion plans and implementations that I've seen is that there may be very good reasons for the expansion and the expansion may be great on the ground, but it's not clearly communicating to the public what all this disruption and money and time was about.

Finch West, ironically for a project so bedeviled in the implementation, does not have that problem.

The TTC's branding and advertising around the new line are, to my eye, attractive, positive, and direct.

They are not afraid of telling you that this is good, that this is useful, or that this is an improvement for the whole region.

The branding is even directly imposed on the LRT trains themselves, not just in stationary stations where you would need to already be there to see the ad.

And I think it's a friendly, welcoming font and general color palette as well. Seeing this branding made me want to take this particular train (as opposed to my general orientation that I want to take any and all trains, of course) and that's to the good!

2. A Pleasant Experience

Look, speed is and remains an issue. But actually being on the train itself was a positive experience: that "1 smooth ride" branding isn't just talk.

The seats are comfortable and I like the colors. It's a pleasant LRT/tram/streetcar experience. Is it a metro? No. But for what it is trying to be, it does the on-ride experience well.

The stops are simple, but that helps keep costs down and they are certainly equal to or better than most surface-level tram stops I've encountered. And I like trams! 

There's decent cover, clear signage, and a decent waiting experience even in the rain when I took these photos.

Overall the physical experience of the system is a good one, and I think that that's something to build on.

3. Good Final Station

The Finch West LRT runs right into the main subway system, with a good connection at, unsurprisingly, Finch West.

The final stop is underground in a facility connected to the Finch West stop on the subway, and it's both easy to find and easy to get to.

I know this is a repeat picture, but again: very clear.

Now, it's not currently connected to any other part of the network (other than buses). But the potential exists for such connections--in theory it will hit GO trains and maybe even line 5 at the airport. And the fact that the final station is a good one is a sign that if the expansions to the network are done well, there's nothing that means that the other complaints about Line 6 have to be permanent. It could speed up; it can connect better; it can run faster and more often.

The potential is there. As I said, I know of other cities where the speed and frequency of this line would be desired. It's not at the level of Line 5 or the actual metro-type subways in Toronto, but it is, for example, much better than the TTC streetcars downtown.

It's something to build on, and I had a good time on it--even if I'm not going to pretend that it's a perfect system.

Eglinton Crosstown Considerations

When I recently visited Toronto, I found myself staying just off Eglinton Avenue, and thus primarily utilizing the Eglinton Crosstown extension of the TTC: a light rail that in many ways (including on the TTC maps) wants to be a subway.

Because where I was staying was directly on Line 5 (as it's designated) and my destinations largely weren't (shoutout to the Center for Renaissance and Reformation Studies at Victoria University, University of Toronto and to Snakes and Lattes), I took Line 5 a lot, including transfers to other lines and buses. And I have thoughts!

1. Seattle-Like

My first and dominant impression was that the line reminds me heavily of taking Sound Transit in Seattle. It's a light rail that operates more like a subway in terms of demand and frequency, but lacks the grade separation it should have for part of the route and has some weird variations in stop spacing and thus speed.

Also, visually, both involve cars that are a little less efficient at what they should be doing (carrying a ton of passengers) than they should be, because of their more tram-like design.

Both are/were also a single line (yes, I'm both aware and very happy that Seattle's is not anymore and that it's been a big boost to ridership, and obviously Toronto has other lines) that seems to fall a bit below expectations while still being awesome.

The stops that aren't underground could be a bit more physically protected from the elements, for instance, and definitely spaced further apart.

Basically what I mean by saying it's Seattle-like is that I'm so so glad it's open, but I have minor critiques of how it was designed and implemented that do not overall detract from that gladness.

2. Good Connections

Of course, where it's massively distinct from the 1 line or even the 2 line in Seattle is that it is the 5 line, and that means its intimately connected to a lot more transit than anything in Seattle is.

The connections to the 1 Line (Yonge-University) are pretty straightforward and generally well-marked, and allow the 5 be a fully-integrated part of the larger Toronto transit scheme. 

This is clearly and appreciably indicated at the stops as well, and honestly extending a lot further down Eglinton is a big boon to the overall transit health of the city/metro. Is it the full vision of Transit City? Probably not. Is it a meaningful upgrade? Oh yes.

Frankly this line unlocked a great deal of the eastern part of the city that I had previously found annoying to access, and the concomitant changes in bus service also made general access around the city better. Maybe Toronto should edge out Vancouver if I ran CityBracket again...but this line wasn't open yet, and we didn't know how it would turn out.

That's right, this actually opened this year, 2026: it's brand spanking new. And so it's good that it hasn't had quite the growing pains of its cousin, the 6 Line, which I'll get to in more detail than last time someday soon (yes, I rode that too). 

3. A Good Experience

That's the thing: overall, this is a good line. It's a good experience. Quick dwell times, even on weekends; quick transportation, unless you're literally going end to end; a good vehicle experience, though I do think they could be more subway-like and less tram-like and do a better job of throughput.

It would probably also help if they could be full walkthrough and if they were a bit clearer on the outside stops about where the trains will actually stop: they future-proofed the line to larger trains, but that means that the back of the stop usually doesn't actually have train doors.

They're good at indicating this at the underground stations (and the wayfinding in general is better than most North American transit I've seen) but not so much outdoors.

The trams are pretty, too.

The seats are comfortable, if again it would likely be even better if they were more subway-style, leaving more standing room around them.

And they are often faster than the traffic--though it would be nice if they didn't have to stop for the same lights.

Overall, I really enjoyed taking the Line 5 Eglinton Crosstown, and I highly recommend it to anyone visiting or transiting Toronto.

A Tale of Four Light Rails

 I recently had the opportunity to visit Toronto, which in turn recently opened two new light rail/tram/streetcar lines--with a distinction in branding that marks these lines as more intended to be part of the metro/subway network than the existing tram lines. Today I wanted to talk a little bit about my experience, and how these three different light rails (together with the also fairly new Montréal REM, which Google Maps has decided to also mark as a light rail) show very different sides of what we can mean when we say something is a "light rail"--and what makes a "light rail" effective.

1. Priority Matters

The single biggest difference between these various light rails is the degree of priority that each receives in relation to other transit modes serving the same space.

The regular Toronto trams (the 500 numbered streetcars) get no signal priority at all and are indeed just...on the street (with a few exceptions like the Queensway tunnel).

The Finch LRT, line 6, does better, because it mostly exists in a separate center lane, but it doesn't get signal priority at all and is mostly on the street surface, so it still stops at red lights--sometimes right in front of a station--and famously isn't necessarily faster than a person on foot.

The Eglinton LRT, line 5, is faster, not because it actually has signal priority, but because (despite the above picture), it spends a lot more time underground, and thus grade separated from the traffic.

This makes it act more like a metro, and therefore faster and less at the whims of traffic, lights, or anything but its own passengers and track.

And then there is our friend the REM, le Réseau Express Métropolitain, which is, despite Google's claims, actually an automated system like the Vancouver SkyTrain and maybe "light rail" but not a streetcar or tram at all in the way that the other systems are. It doesn't run on the street, because it's automated so its entire length is grade-separated to allow for that. It therefore needs no signal priority over cars because it doesn't even bother with them. I don't have a picture of just a train of it, because it has platform screen doors (above) which means that it's actually more advanced than most North American metro systems.

Yeah, it's basically just a second metro for Montréal, and good for them.

2. Capacity Matters

Here's where the REM is most like the other systems: they do all run "tram-like" vehicles, without full gangways between the cars across the whole train (unlike, say, the TTC Subway or some lines of the Montréal Metro). But the capacity differences are still surprising. Here the almost-entirely roadbound TTC streetcars fall woefully behind.

Even when they're grade-separated, like here, they're really just a couple units long, and combined with the slow speeds created by the lack of separation from cars, that means that you can't really get that many more people on them than you could on a bus line. 

Finch West LRT is a bit bigger, and the rolling stock also seems (subjectively to me) to have a bit more space on it.

Same for the Eglinton, which I would bet moves more people per hour than Finch West LRT but only because of speed, not necessarily actual max train capacity.

And once again, the REM trains kick everyone's butt, because while you can't walk down the length of the whole REM train, there are multiple units connected together that each equal the other LRTs' size.

In real terms, then, the REM is both faster and more capacious than the other systems, and the main difference between the lines 5 and 6 in Toronto is how well they actually let the system run as opposed to letting cars get in the way. And then the streetcar is basically a bus on rails.

3. Common Experiences

What these do have in common is that they're all pretty comfortable to ride, and in very similar ways because they share a lot of that "tram-like" body.

I'd suggest this is the best aspect of the streetcars in Toronto: they do feel better than a bus to sit on, and their comfort is much closer to the others in this study.

The Finch and Eglinton LRTs felt very similar to me, with the main difference being the color palette where the Finch (above) and Eglinton (below) are very similar to each other but distinct from the red of the streetcars.

And then there's the REM, which I got fewer pictures of the interior of (because there were more other people and I tend to avoid taking too many pictures of people in public), but which is a bit more spacious and "metro-like" but still clearly the same tram-style overall space. As you can see in the picture in the last section, it has more space for standing and less comfortable seats--with more emphasis on capacity than on fabric.

This is perhaps the only way in which I'd "prefer" to be on the other systems than the REM: the seating is legitimately more comfortable on all 3 Toronto lines.

But overall, this should speak to the wide variety of what we mean when we say "light rail." It can cover everything from a fully separated, fast, capacious system like the REM to something that is basically a bus like the Toronto streetcar--and a lot in between, as we see at Finch and Eglinton. 

Perhaps we could use some better definitions...or at least a wider array of terminology for the systems we already have.

And perhaps also we could consider building more of our "light rail" to a REM standard than a TTC Streetcar.

Boring Places

I was walking down the street near my house and it occurred to me that, boring as I found the street, it was no more boring than the street next to the hotel I'd stayed at the last time we were in Toronto.

But my memories of that trip are not boring at all, even though we walked there just as I was walking here--similarly late at night, even. 

So I wanted to think: if it's not the streetscape that makes it boring, what might it be? Or, to think more positively, if that's not what makes somewhere interesting, what is it?

1. Connections

The most obvious answer is that nothing actually makes it more interesting in itself, but rather the Toronto spot was more interesting because of where you could go from it and how--the connections that the space had.

The space itself was similar, but from that spot in Toronto, even well after dark, I could easily get anywhere else I wanted, without a car and without much effort on my part. Partly from a light rail line, but also just because of buses.

Here in the Quad Cities, well, I could walk a long way or I could drive. That was it.

And either of those options requires a lot from me: time, if walking, and both sobriety and the willingness to be in charge of navigating, conducting, and parking a vehicle, if driving. None of that responsibility and much less of that time was required in Toronto.

2. Community

I'm not going to lie: there were not a lot of people in that particular part of Toronto all the time. The Don Valley Freeway was nearby, and Eglinton Ave was not hopping. But there were more than there were in the QCA, for sure--and the fact that I was on foot was not itself inherently remarkable or unusual.

Kinda different here.

Actually, very different.

In Toronto even on a quiet street, the presence of the connections (see #1) creates a sense that the space is intended to be potentially used by people even if they are temporarily absent. In the QCA, the design makes it so that the street is clearly not intended for anyone even if the street temporarily has someone walking by it. The sense of community is different, as one implies an absent community of souls and the other implies that any present community is a threat or an abnormality, not a good thing. One is not excited to see another pedestrian here; the question arises of why they're out, even though you are too.

3. Accommodation

Part of this feeling is the little bit of a lie I told above: the street design does indeed differ somewhat in a meaningful way. Even though both are pretty boring, the Toronto (technically North York) area site is clearly accommodating of pedestrians and the QCA is not, or at least no more than minimally.

For example: the beg buttons in Toronto not only actually work but some are labeled as "audible signal only"--that is, they are there for visually impaired pedestrians to know for sure they can cross, but the pedestrian light will change anyway. For another example, the sidewalks were actually maintained to a point I wasn't tripping as I walked. Seemingly obvious, but...

I could go on. There was a staircase where it was needed to connect sidewalks to businesses despite a hill. The bus stops (present in both locations, technically) were not only marked but sheltered in Toronto. And so on.

Again, not to mention the light rail line--the bus stops did this too. But I like the light rail line, so that's the picture.

One space accommodates people; the other doesn't technically ban them. The difference is palpable, even in places--like, I re-emphasize, both these spots--that are basic, boring, and pretty empty.

We could do a lot better here.