We Rode a Train! (Part 3)

So, when we left off I was whining about the Amtrak roomette being tooooo tiiiiny and tooooo hooooottttt and you would have thought that I hated the whole experience because you do know me. But in point of fact, I loved our 30 hours on the train. Loved them. And here is why:

1. The Scenery. I have very little photographic documentation of how beautiful it was to ride through the northeast in mid-October because in addition to being a terrible photographer I am a slow photographer, and the train waits for no one to frame that one flame-colored tree just perfectly. Plus much of what you see is the backside of America. You are, after all, on the wrong side of the tracks from Main Street, but this is very much the more interesting side. And when you're on the train for 30 hours, you also get to see the outside during all hours of the day and night, which leads me to my next favorite aspect...

2. The Rock-a-bye Baby Effect. Want to sleep more soundly than you have slept since you first heard the word "deadline"? Place yourself in a comfy bed, with darkness and stars just outside that window where you can wake up to see more darkness and stars, then add a swaying train car and the rhythm of the wheels for white noise and you will sleep oh, so soundly. You will, that is, if you have glommed onto the roomette's bottom bunk. The Boys placed bets on who would have the lower bunk and who would have the upper, and quite wisely not one single penny was on Husband for the comfy spot. Husband got the fold-down bed, and his sleeping experience was less than ideal. (His description of "like an MRI without sedation" spoke to both the size and windowless aspect of the coffin-like upper berth.) I, however, woke up to blue skies rushing by outside after some of the best zzzzzzz's I can remember. I did manage to bestir myself in time for breakfast, where we met the third best part of the trip...

3. The People. When you have a sleeper car on Amtrak, all of your meals are included in the (not inconsequential) cost of the trip. However, seating is community style so we had different dining companions at each meal. ("You WILL make a friend" the seating announcement ominously ordered us.) And guess what? We did! The delightful young lady above is Mary, who is a professional storyteller from England. I know! Is that the person you would have thought you would chat with over a Western omelet and sausage? We shared life stories and giggled with her about the biscuits on the breakfast menu (that word means something different entirely in England) and I made her promise she will at least consider visiting Small Town on her grant-funded swing around the colonies. At another meal we shared our booth with newly-met retired companions traveling back to Florida from California. They had accidentally been booked into a roometiny instead of larger accommodations "but we're Americans and Americans adapt so we'll be fine," one said. (I'm making "We're Americans and Americans adapt" my mantra during this election season, by the way.) But the very best part of being on the train was...

4. Nothing at All. What did I like the most? Nothing at all. When you are making airline connections or driving, there are constant decisions. Should we stop here? Is this the right route? Where do you want to eat? When you are on a train these decisions are in someone else's hands, so for hours on end I knit and listened to Madeline L'Engle on an audiobook, with breaks for catnaps and looking out the window. I didn't have to feel guilty about not working (limited internet access) and the most pressing decision I made was whether to shower now or after another nap. Enforced nothingness can get old, but a few days of it was delightful.

So there you have it. We had an uncommonly wonderful trip, with no derailments in spite of my boss's dire predictions. And we had connections scheduled loosely enough that a two-hour delay for heavy freight traffic didn't bother us at all.

Our train trip was heavenly. I can't wait to do it again.

The End