Pensieri di un lunatico minore

The pleasure of trains

I haven’t driven to NYC, since, well, ever. Once I came to the city with a friend named Alice, down from Boston, and she drove her tank down. More recently (i.e. a few years ago), another friend drove up from DC in a rented SUV. Otherwise, for me at least, there is only one mode of travel between DC and NY: Amtrak. Anything else is entirely too frustrating for words.

There is nothing like being able to simply board the train, put my luggage away, and have a seat in a nice, wide, comfortable chair with enough legroom that many people put their carry-on luggage in front of them to have somewhere to put their feet. The tray table actually doesn’t come far enough back for me! How often does that happen?

Today’s train ride started out with me using Bluetooth and EDGE to get on the Internet and entertain myself, but when we hit Baltimore, a very nice guy (i.e., intelligent and attractive) named Todd sat down next to me. From there until Penn Station in NYC, we talked technology, social affairs, politics and the nature of travel in the US. It was a relaxing way to spend the approximately 2:45 of the ride left. Alas, no idea how to maintain that contact.

For whatever reason, those kind of personal contacts never happen on a plane. I don’t know if it’s the droning noise—different that the clack of a train—or just the overall cramped environment, but regardless, a train trip tends to be infinitely more relaxing than any plane trip. That includes First Class travel.