[Writer's note: I just spent the day in Chicago and will be boarding the City of New Orleans train in about an hour to head south for the weekend. This post is from about 24 hours ago; phone was giving issues with posting, hence the tardiness.]
I already love the train. Granted we’re almost two hours behind schedule, but where else can you drink vodka, be served surprisingly good food, laugh with fellow passengers, and come back to your room to take a dump if you need to—all while moving to your destination? Certainly no fucking hotel. And then there are the vistas; and we’re still riding the Hudson. But then again, one could consider this a hotel on wheels, or some sort of transient bedroom. Oh, that sounds sexy, transient bedroom.
Anywho, I digress. I had a lovely dinner. I was supposed to have one of the later reservations, but 6:30 rolled around, I was a few deep whilst enjoying some cheese and crackers and I decided maybe I should eat. I thought we weren’t far from Albany, where we’d loose power for a while, so why not. Well, I was wrong. We were still over an hour from Albany. But that made dinner all the better. I was sitting at a four-top booth, alone. I was on the western side of the train, the riverside, if you will. (Note that my roomette is on the eastern side of the train (we’re traveling north), so I was forced to look at suburban riverfront sprawl—condos and mass-produced blueprinted homes—hence the reason I opted for the riverside of the car.)
The waiter was fabulous. Attentive yet not overbearing, savvy and funny, it was the type you’d expect to see on a cruise ship. I don’t mean that degradingly; he’s been doing Amtrak service for quite some time—he wouldn’t give me an exact date. Anywho. I ordered the only thing a veg could: fucking pasta. But I was pleasantly surprised. It was fresh, tasty, and flavorful. After some time, the woman, of the couple sitting next to me said, “Did you get the pasta? How is it?” I said, “Oh, it’s really quite nice.” They were both on their second Scotch from the time I sat down, and she was glad I helped her make up her mind. That was our launch pad. Suddenly, we were off, off into obscure yet delightfully personal conversation about our respective lives.
Me and my job, studies and travels, them and their marriage, travels, and previous fields of work (both in medicine: he an orthopedist, she a nurse.) I learned that his name was Frank. Not because he told me, but because she kept saying it. They had opted to take the train over the plane because of how annoying airports are. They live in Minnesota. They went from MN to Boston, then to the City to visit their daughter who lives in New Jersey. Like me, they are loving their first long distance train trip. Though they are on the return of their voyage, so they’ve sat through one way already.
We continued chatting. A few more people sat down around us, including the conductor. You could tell he was a bit tense. We were on our third engine and an hour and a half behind. He ate amongst his passengers and answered all the questions I had while sharing personal stories about his life, too.
There is something about the train and the stories that are shared. Intimate, almost inordinate stories that just get thrown up all over. Last year, a travel writer for the Times did a piece about his cross-country train voyage; it was a great piece. Also last year, yet only read this week, was a piece about why train travelers are train travelers. We talk to eat other and welcome the conversation. When you are sitting next to someone on an airplane and you ask a question, most times, they pull the paper they’re reading higher over their face. It’s quite the contrary on trains. People embrace questions and look forward to the discourse. Christ, even healthcare came up!
Well, we left Albany about an hour ago. The train from Boston attached to us, so we’re five longer than we were before, and one of them is the lounge/snack car. Cards, anyone?
Or maybe just some more stories. Cheerio
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Goodbye NY, hello Train Ride
Hello from train 49, Amtrak’s "Lake Shore Limited" train, connecting New York and Chicago, and a split in Albany allowing those from Boston to make their way to the windy city.
It’s a beautiful day for traveling, even more so on the train. I will be making my way to the Crescent City, New Orleans, Louisiana, via Chicago on a two-day train tour of 8 states, making 37 stops. I have about an 11-hour layover in Chicago and I’m most excited about it. I’ve been talking for some time about never having been to Chicago. Sure enough when I started looking into the various ways of getting to New Orleans, the route through Chicago killed two birds with one stone. It helps that I’m not paying for my train or plane ticket: I’ve accumulated quite a few points for my travels between New York and New London, with random trips to DC in-between, allowing me to redeem a one-way ticket, all the way to NOLA, with Roomette accommodations; for the flight back I used some frequent flier miles. And because of it, I finally get to stay in a hotel—not a hostel while traveling alone. VERY exciting!
We pulled out of Penn Station promptly at 3:45. Traveling north under Manhattan Island, as opposed to heading east towards Queens for the trip to CT, allows for a view of sky scrapers through the random rail cuts as the train snakes north in between 9th and 10th Avenues.
A few minutes into the ride, an older gentleman came to collect my ticket. I asked him a question and he said that was something my room attendant could answer for me. Fine. A few more minutes later, a chipper lady with a big smile in a bright red apron came to talk to me about dinner. I asked for the latest reservation—I’m a New Yorker and ate a late lunch—to which she advised was not a good idea. By 8:00pm, the last reservation, sometimes they can be wiped out of certain things. This made me nervous as a veg, so I settled for 7. She said that was a great idea.
A few more minutes later, my room attendant came by to introduce himself, do an overview, and answer questions. He also passed out today’s Times (idiot me bought a copy at the station), timetables, and route guides. His name is Ainsley.
Over the Harlem River crossing, continuing our climb up New York’s famous Hudson River (celebrating its 400th Anniversary this very year!), thick smoke blew past my big windows. I didn’t think much of it. A few minutes later, we were at a total fucking stand still; we still are and it has been nearly an hour. They just announced that we blew an engine. Yes! Not even 20 miles into my adventure, and we’re already delayed! This should not have come as too much of a shock:the "Lake Shore" is famous for its poor punctuality.
They said a new locomotive was being brought down from Croton-Harmon, 18 miles to the North. Once they take off the dead guy and put on the newbie, we should be rolling.
Oh well, such is life.
A minute ago, another uber polite gent just came to let me know I have the option of eating earlier. When we get to Albany, we loose power for 20-30 minutes when they hook up a lounge car and new locomotive car. (it’s 5:20 and we’re moving!). I said I have no problem waiting until after we leave Albany to eat. I came prepared: I brought my picnic cheese board and knives, a block of cheddar, crackers and peanut butter, Veggie Booty, health nut bars, and peanut M&Ms. And libation supplies: seltzer, lemons, and vodka.
Speaking of Vodka…it’s after 5. Time for a cocktail—bottom’s up.
It’s a beautiful day for traveling, even more so on the train. I will be making my way to the Crescent City, New Orleans, Louisiana, via Chicago on a two-day train tour of 8 states, making 37 stops. I have about an 11-hour layover in Chicago and I’m most excited about it. I’ve been talking for some time about never having been to Chicago. Sure enough when I started looking into the various ways of getting to New Orleans, the route through Chicago killed two birds with one stone. It helps that I’m not paying for my train or plane ticket: I’ve accumulated quite a few points for my travels between New York and New London, with random trips to DC in-between, allowing me to redeem a one-way ticket, all the way to NOLA, with Roomette accommodations; for the flight back I used some frequent flier miles. And because of it, I finally get to stay in a hotel—not a hostel while traveling alone. VERY exciting!
We pulled out of Penn Station promptly at 3:45. Traveling north under Manhattan Island, as opposed to heading east towards Queens for the trip to CT, allows for a view of sky scrapers through the random rail cuts as the train snakes north in between 9th and 10th Avenues.
A few minutes into the ride, an older gentleman came to collect my ticket. I asked him a question and he said that was something my room attendant could answer for me. Fine. A few more minutes later, a chipper lady with a big smile in a bright red apron came to talk to me about dinner. I asked for the latest reservation—I’m a New Yorker and ate a late lunch—to which she advised was not a good idea. By 8:00pm, the last reservation, sometimes they can be wiped out of certain things. This made me nervous as a veg, so I settled for 7. She said that was a great idea.
A few more minutes later, my room attendant came by to introduce himself, do an overview, and answer questions. He also passed out today’s Times (idiot me bought a copy at the station), timetables, and route guides. His name is Ainsley.
Over the Harlem River crossing, continuing our climb up New York’s famous Hudson River (celebrating its 400th Anniversary this very year!), thick smoke blew past my big windows. I didn’t think much of it. A few minutes later, we were at a total fucking stand still; we still are and it has been nearly an hour. They just announced that we blew an engine. Yes! Not even 20 miles into my adventure, and we’re already delayed! This should not have come as too much of a shock:the "Lake Shore" is famous for its poor punctuality.
They said a new locomotive was being brought down from Croton-Harmon, 18 miles to the North. Once they take off the dead guy and put on the newbie, we should be rolling.
Oh well, such is life.
A minute ago, another uber polite gent just came to let me know I have the option of eating earlier. When we get to Albany, we loose power for 20-30 minutes when they hook up a lounge car and new locomotive car. (it’s 5:20 and we’re moving!). I said I have no problem waiting until after we leave Albany to eat. I came prepared: I brought my picnic cheese board and knives, a block of cheddar, crackers and peanut butter, Veggie Booty, health nut bars, and peanut M&Ms. And libation supplies: seltzer, lemons, and vodka.
Speaking of Vodka…it’s after 5. Time for a cocktail—bottom’s up.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Life
In six hours, Life happened.
It was sudden, shocking. Startling.
Quickly. Eyes open, jaw drops.
It’s simple really: I signed a new lease. Came home; ran back out.
The toilet flooded.
I’m moving.
Holy fucking shit.
Much as I’ve contemplated it, conjured or imagined, never did I ever expect to truly be moving. Unless of course, something foreign came up—but that’s neither here nor there.
I’m moving. Two floors down…and I’m freaking out.
As I stood from the hallway just outside the soggy bathroom, reality flashed before my eyes. Edge hit me.
The apartment is my personification, an utter depiction of existence. And I have to move it all?
[Holy shit.
The toilet flooded.
What?
Yes.
Don’t forget to drop of the dewy towels at the laundry mat.
You're signed to move. ]
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
President Obama
We have a new president and I need time to digest it.
Goodbye W, your service could not have been worse.
Hello to a new America.
More to come later.
Goodbye W, your service could not have been worse.
Hello to a new America.
More to come later.
In Position
After just about three hours in line, here we are. Not the prime spot we wanted as we weren't the first ones in line, but a breath taking view of the capital and staging area. We will be able to see Barack, but pics will be tough.
The San Francisco is serenading the masses as they heard their way into place. Aretha Franklin will warn the crowd with her pipes too.
Perhaps the most exciting thing about today is that Dick Cheney will be in a wheelchair!! He pulled a muscle in his back while moving boxes in his new home. Haha. Karma's a bitch and irony can really make something.
The sun is up now but the chill is deep.
The people that are here are continuously blowing my mind. Janette, the one doing interviews with her video cam, is a riot. She bring it out and ask someone where they're from, ask them what today means to them and then find someone else right next to them. People began screaming where they were from when they found out she was trying to do a 50-state interview. Her energy was amazing, screaming as she met someone from a state she had yet to find.
My aunt just called to let me know Barack is running 15 minuted late. Mass at the national cathedral ran late and so goes his day, fifteen minutes gone astray.
The San Francisco is serenading the masses as they heard their way into place. Aretha Franklin will warn the crowd with her pipes too.
Perhaps the most exciting thing about today is that Dick Cheney will be in a wheelchair!! He pulled a muscle in his back while moving boxes in his new home. Haha. Karma's a bitch and irony can really make something.
The sun is up now but the chill is deep.
The people that are here are continuously blowing my mind. Janette, the one doing interviews with her video cam, is a riot. She bring it out and ask someone where they're from, ask them what today means to them and then find someone else right next to them. People began screaming where they were from when they found out she was trying to do a 50-state interview. Her energy was amazing, screaming as she met someone from a state she had yet to find.
My aunt just called to let me know Barack is running 15 minuted late. Mass at the national cathedral ran late and so goes his day, fifteen minutes gone astray.
The Joy of Waiting
The sun is up but the air feels colder. My toes are already numb; for some reason I forgot about my feet when I was packing.
We've been in line for almost two hours. The people are amazing: Janette from Mississippi with her video camera who has interviewed everyone around her and then some; Elizabeth, who's probably in her 50s, dancing to stay warm, she told the story about how people in her "conservative village" have come up to her and said: "Elizabeth, I didn't vote for him, but I am excited." The family of five from Charlottesville who drove up this morning, the three boys range from about 6 to 10. I wonder what they'll remember from this day?
We're moving closer and closer to the security screening. Screams of joy from movement belt out here and there.
Cirrus clouds are scattered about the sky with the sun breaking through. The clouds scatter the light, subtly fracturing it, sending it all over the city.
The city that had been taken over by those yearning to witness history. To be a part of the change we created.
We've been in line for almost two hours. The people are amazing: Janette from Mississippi with her video camera who has interviewed everyone around her and then some; Elizabeth, who's probably in her 50s, dancing to stay warm, she told the story about how people in her "conservative village" have come up to her and said: "Elizabeth, I didn't vote for him, but I am excited." The family of five from Charlottesville who drove up this morning, the three boys range from about 6 to 10. I wonder what they'll remember from this day?
We're moving closer and closer to the security screening. Screams of joy from movement belt out here and there.
Cirrus clouds are scattered about the sky with the sun breaking through. The clouds scatter the light, subtly fracturing it, sending it all over the city.
The city that had been taken over by those yearning to witness history. To be a part of the change we created.
to the train
5:22 am at East Falls Church, VA on the orange line. We arrive at station with one minute before a train arrives. Jump on the escalator to see the train is in the station...I start yelling, "move people move, that's a washington bound train!!" NO ON FUCKING MOVED.
Bridget and I pushed our way to the top and people still did not move! They were even taking up two lanes to stand on the escalator!
We made the train regardless. It's packed. Energy abounds. Change is in the air....
Bridget and I pushed our way to the top and people still did not move! They were even taking up two lanes to stand on the escalator!
We made the train regardless. It's packed. Energy abounds. Change is in the air....
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