|
Training… ...as in a train with carriages, that is!
I'm sitting in the Club Car of the Amtrak North-Eastern Express as I write this. I'm on my way from Boston to Washington, then taking a first-class sleeping cabin to Detroit. It's 8am and we're cruising down the Mystic coastline of Connecticut, which is shrouded in fog -- pity -- the view is supposed to be spectacular. So I'm typing this while Buddy, the cabin attendant, serves me morning tea. The train slid silently out of Boston's South Station at 6:25am -- smooth, quiet and very comfortable. Equivalent to first class in a plane, but lots more room. 40 minutes later, we were in Providence, Rhode Island, to pick up extra passengers. The Club Car seats 20, but there are only 6 of us making the trip this morning. New England countryside is mostly green forests and fields, with occasional small villages. Everything in Massachusetts is clean and lovely, but I saw some graffiti on railway bridges in Rhode Island. Once the fog lifts, I'll be able to comment on Connecticut in more detail. My initial impression is a lot of small bays cluttered with sailboats, interspersed with reed-infested wetlands with lots of waterfowl. Why the train? Well, to take a first class sleeping cabin from Boston to Detroit costs about the same as an economy air fare (US$345.00). And this is going via Washington, which is the long way to do it (there were no sleeping cabins available on the direct run, which would have been cheaper still). Having recently flown back from Australia, and with trips to LA and Chicago in quick succession, I felt like a break from planes. I actually got the idea from Bill, a limo driver, who was taking me to the airport for my Chicago jaunt -- he is a regular train user. There's an unhurried sense of calm on the train -- the passengers stroll about and converse in low voices; the attendant unobtrusively brings drinks and snacks; even the conductor, an Andy Griffith look-alike, engages me in laconic conversation about train travel whilst punching my ticket. The low rumble of the wheels and the whirring of the air-conditioner are quieter than the constant roar of a plane, and the gentle rocking of the carriage is quite soothing -- a civilised way to travel. The Washington to Detroit leg was taken in a private sleeping compartment on the "Capitol Limited", which goes via Pittsburgh, Cleveland and Toledo to Chicago. (I got off at Toledo and took a 1-hour bus ride to Detroit.) Dinner was an excellent medium-rare steak with all the trimmings and a passable Californian Merlot. All this while the sun was setting, casting interesting shadows over the cliffs and forests of the Potomac River valley, up which we were travelling. A pair of old ladies sitting opposite me explained that they take this train every 3 months to visit friends in Chicago. One of them had a timetable which she periodically consulted, passing comments on the lateness of the train into various stations. After relaxing with a cognac in the Lounge Car for an hour or so, I retired to my sleeping room for the night. The room was about 3 metres by 2 metres, and about 2 and a half high. The two chairs that face each other can be laid right back, and the seats touch in the middle, making a comfortable bed. There's also a fold-down upper bunk, with two sets of pre-made bedding. The sliding door locks and curtains are provided for complete privacy. I lay there in the twilight, soothed by the gentle rocking of the train, as ghostly trees, barns and other objects whisked past in the fading light outside. Interesting how the centrifugal force as the train rounds a corner, coupled with the rocking motion, effects a form of gentle internal massage on the body. I was asleep by about 9pm. I awoke as the train stopped and began some gentle shunting motions. Peering through the window, I recognised the Sheraton Station Square in Pittsburgh, where I stayed a few months ago. As we gathered speed and left Pittsburgh, I was able to recognise other landmarks that I used to navigate by when I was driving there. I slept again until Cleveland. Between Cleveland and Toledo, the train track follows the southern shore of Lake Erie. At 6am, I was sitting eating my breakfast watching the sun rise, when I caught my first glimpse of the lake. It's enormous! I wonder how the size of the Great Lakes taken together compares with some of the inland seas in Europe and Asia? Anyway, it was a delightful part of the country -- lots of boats -- small and large -- canals, bridges, marshlands, estuaries, etc. I was sorry when the train deviated inland after a while, and the landscape became more industrial. Toledo railway station is a study in art deco -- rounded corners and chrome everywhere -- obviously preserved from the original where possible with the addition of modern materials for durability. The bus from Toledo to Detroit was uneventful -- the outskirts of Detroit look very run-down -- lots of derelict buildings and high-rise apartments -- graffiti everywhere. Errol, the Jamaican taxi driver who took me from the Amtrak station to Avis, regaled me with stories about how there's nothing to do in Detroit, and I should cross the border into Canada, where it's all happenin'. "After all," he said, "we got to stick together -- Australia, Jamaica, Canada -- all part of the Commonwealth!". I spent Monday setting up the classroom at Detroit Edison, and noticed a slight tickle in my throat and a tightness in the head. I assumed it was the Detroit pollution at work and thought nothing more of it. By evening, however, I was aware that it was developing into a head cold. On Tuesday morning, my first day of teaching, the headcold had blown into a throat infection, complete with partial lanyngitis -- I was croaking by the end of the day. I went straight to a doctor after the class, and waited to be seen… Tuesday was a weird day (apart from my laryngitis). It started with thunderstorms in the morning, then clear and muggy all day, then violent thunderstorms, wind, rain, lightning while I was in doctor's waiting room. It was the most spectacular lightning I've ever seen -- horizontal as well as vertical -- the lights in doctor's rooms flickered several times, then went out completely -- I was eventually examined by torchlight. Driving back to hotel afterward, saw many trees blown or lightninged down, across roads, power lines, etc. There was flooding everywhere. I asked the hotel concierge about it, and he just yawned and said it's typical Michigan summer weather! The following day, I learned that it was the worst storm in 10 years -- over 4,000 power lines down, and over 350,000 homes without power. Welcome to Detroit! Apart from that excitement, I found Detroit to be mostly uninteresting. The roads are the worst I've ever seen in a supposedly civilised country! Potholes, gashes, partly-laid surfaces -- driving was a hazard. I have this theory that the car manufacturers keep them this way deliberately in order to make cars wear out more quickly! There's not much to be said about the rest of the week -- my throat gradually got better, and I flew home to Massachusetts Friday afternoon. |
