The train language of the rest of the world has had limited chance to interbreed with the U.S, leaving America with a unique set of rail words. Most make some sense to English speakers, but a variety of carriage (sorry, car) types and multiple names for the same thing can at times become confusing. In addition, the first time traveller may be surprised by the way the jargon is phrased up with words not heard very often on the other side of the pond. Tickets might be inspected “presently” and the dining car might open “momentarily”. The language is both polite and direct. Once introduced, expect to be called Mr or Miss and then often your first name, and also frequently as just “Sir” or Ma’am”.

Here is my introductory Amtrak language lesson. Please read and repeat until fluent!

ACAT Menu Specials – Amtrak Culinary Advisory Team dishes are interesting looking dinner choices on the restaurant menu of some of the Superliner trains. They are never actually available to order though, so don’t get too excited by reading about them. Take my advice and stick to steak or chicken with baked potato.

All Aboard! – always shouted by the conductor before he signals for the doors to be closed by the car attendants. It’s hard not to join in the fun and shout “all aboard” too.. it can feel a bit like “Von Ryan’s Express” at times with smoking stops on a long journey.

Amfleet Coach Car – standard single deck seated coach car.

Baggage – luggage. Occasionally weirdly used in the plural, like “your baggages must not be left in the corridor”. Travel with as little carry on baggage as possible as there might not be room for both you and your suitcase in a Roomette. You can store it on racks located on the lower level if it won’t fit though.

Bedroom – a room with two beds and an en suite toilet and shower in a Dorm Car. This as luxurious as it gets on an Amtrak train, and you can imagine being in a classic train film like “Silver Streak” whilst you dress for dinner. (N.B. No one else will be dressing for dinner though)

Bed – it’s a bed, not a berth. The lower bed in a Roomette is much better than the upper one. It is bigger and more padded. Negotiate well with your partner if you are sharing.

Bedroom Suite – Two twin Bedrooms with separate en suite rooms joined together by an interconnecting door. The sort of room James Bond would have with the beautiful woman next door if he were travelling on Amtrak, obviously.

Brakeman – old fashioned name for the Conductor, sometimes still used to describe the person responsible for the running of the train.

Breakfast – served in the restaurant, or delivered to your room by the car attendant if you are in a Sleeper and they are in a good mood. Avoid the Creole sauce and grits with your eggs unless you are very adventurous.

Bumper – the end of the line. For example, Conductor: “that’s us up on the bumper at 12.36”

Business Class – rarely seen upgraded coach class car with inclusive benefits like food and wifi. Probably used more on regular non Superliner trains. Most business people in America travel by plane, so not in great demand.

Cafe Car – the lower deck of the Observation Car has a bar and snack shop and a few tables. Open longer hours than the restaurant. Mainly serving passengers in coach class as those in Sleeperettes have meals in the restaurant included. Unlimited supply of ice and often run by a barman who has trained at the Amtrak equivalent of Butlins.

Car – a rail carriage, not a road based car – that would be a “vee-hicle”..

Coach Attendant – confusingly sometimes also called a Conductor. Responsible for rooms on Sleeper cars and anything you might need during your time on the train. Be polite and tip well for the best possible service.

Coach Class – regular daytime seated car that has comfortable seats in Amtrak Coach Car. The Viewliner and Superliner versions feel like first class when compared to many European trains, but with no inclusive benefits like food or drink.

Community Seating – the dining car policy is to place diners together by a reserved dining time. You get to hear the amazing life stories of your fellow table guests. There is no choice in this matter. Most Americans eat early, so usually by 19.45 the dining car will be half empty on its last sitting if you want more peace and personal space.

Cord – the thing you use to plug your phone into the plentiful 120 volt electrical sockets in nearly all the cars. The power supply may not be stable and can be prone to surges, so protection is worth considering.

Conductor – usually a car based attendant responsible for ticketing on a regular train.

De-board – to get off the train.

Depot (“Dee-po”) – often a large junction that may well also be a station. May involve backing in to the platform and lots of tooting of the horn.

De-train – same meaning as “deboard”.

Double Spot – Not a snooker or pool word. This is where the train is longer than the platform, and it stops twice to let passengers from every carriage “deboard”.

Dorm Car – Superliner car which is half used for staff accommodation (lower deck) and connects to baggage car. This isn’t Hogwarts though.

Family Room – 4 bedded room suitable for two adults and two children on lower deck of sleeper car with lots of space, but no en suite.

Gate – entry point to platform, sometimes where tickets are checked.

IC – the intercom, not the PA. The private comms system between carriage attendants for the resolving problems and telling of jokes.

Observation Car – two level car with mix of seating and panoramic windows on the upper deck, bar and cafe below. Usually the social centre of the train and a place to chat with fellow passengers. Just don’t mention politics though.

Lead Service Attendant – the person who supervises service in the dining car. Often heard on the PA announcing dining times and moving people on and off the wait list, depending on his or her mood.

PA – Public address system. Used for all sorts of passenger communication, including dinner reservations, and occasional banter.

Parlour Car – see Dining Car. More specifically the part of the dining car where the on duty service attendant sits and puts together the community seating plan.

Quiet Car – unreserved coach car with no noise, no phone policy. Mainly seen on single deck corridor trains.

Redcap – porter who deals with checked luggage. All big bags are checked in similar to at an airport. The redcaps transfer them to the baggage car.

Restroom – the toilet. On Superliners there is one upstairs and three downstairs per sleeper car.

Resties – a trip to the Restroom.

Roomette – small compartment with two chairs that converts into an upper and lower berth at night. Cosy for one, bit tight for two. Its not a cabin or a compartment.

Service Attendant – person who serves meals and drinks in the dining car.

Shower Room – one per sleeper car located on the lower deck of the Sleeperettes.

Sightseeing Car – see Observation Car.

Smoke Stop – longer stops where baggage is being handled and the conductor invites passengers to stretch their legs on the platform.

Superliner – a two level long distance Amtrak car used on some routes. Deeply impressive.

Surfliner – same as a Superliner but hippyfied and a sign that you are in California.

Sleeper Car – car made up of overnight accommodations – roomettes, family rooms and bedrooms (with en suite toilet). Sometimes also called a Sleeperette.

Transition Car – car set aside for use by crew, usually a sleeperette.

Viewliner – single level/deck version of Superliner used on some Amtrak routes.

Wi-Fi – supposed to be available on most Amtrak trains, but usually impossible to log in to.

To make any sense to your Conductor you should aim to stop using words like “luggage”, “the gents” and “compartment” as soon as possible and embrace speaking Amtrak as fluently as you can. Please do share any new words that you discover and I will add them (“presently”) to this list.

I might have misled you in my last post by saying I was going to San Francisco today. I am actually going there, but to be more specific, my train is not. The Coast Starlight is a daily service between L.A. and Seattle. This takes about 36 hours. My plan is to get off after 11 hours at Oakland and then travel by bus to San Francisco. It should take less than an hour once I’m off the train.

At about 09.40 the train backs into Union Station on platform 10B, supervised by a man in dungarees that I’m convinced was once in “The Dukes of Hazzard” (the early 1980’s version). This train runs with allocated specific seats, and I’m up top in coach 14, seat 4, then seat 57, and seat 55 as I find one I like better. If you are thinking of taking this train the best views by far are out of the left hand side (towards the ocean). Eva, the carriage attendant, is seemingly tolerant of my seat moves and keeps track of me on her paper based passenger seating plan. Many seats are “occupied” but yet empty on trains like this one. This is because people prefer to sit in the observation car or the bar, and stay there for hours. Amtrak tried to get rid of observation cars, but their passengers revolted and they were reinstated.

Today the Starlight is made up of two locomotives, a baggage car, two sleepers, two observation cars, a dining car and two regular coaches. I’m right at the back in the last coach – no roomette for me on this journey, as I’m getting off at about 21.00. It’s very comfortable here in coach. The seats are business class sized and there is more leg room than I need. Well designed tables pull out and every seat has a 120 volt plug. Perfect.

Before long the café is open (underneath the observation car) and reservations are being taken for lunch in the dining car. There is some comedy value in this, as the diner supervisor announces the progress of bookings over the P.A. “Garcia, party of four, your table is ready”.. then cancels anyone who is a moment late “Garcia, bad luck, you’re now on the waitlist”..

After a couple of hours we stop at Santa Barbara and I have time to get off and stretch my legs. Eva tells me that I don’t have time for a swim (the water looks good) so I wait in the sun on the spotless platform with the posh station building. I must come back here one day.

I think I might have picked up a good American habit. I’m talking to absolutely everybody, and it feels quite normal. Last night I got chatting to a bus driver and before I got off he gave me a high five. I don’t think I have ever done a high five in public before, and certainly not with a public transport employee.

The rest of the journey is fairly uneventful until I head for a beer in the observation car. I’m quickly embroiled in debate with lots of people sat around me, and after a few minutes I wonder if I’m to be the new English Jerry Springer. I have a concept for a talk show, filmed in a train carriage – a quirky Englishman hosts and moderates debate between a very mixed bunch of Americans. Tonight’s debates for my fist show include taxes, native Americans, tobacco, guns and liberalism. Fortunately I’m rescued by some fellow Brits I’m dining with before things get out of hand. Two of my chat show guests are close to war, and I suspect that one of them might be carrying a concealed weapon.

As the sun goes down outside the views are of a mixture of crops – pumpkins, turf (miles of it) and oil. I’m supposed to be getting off at about 21.30 – in Amtrak terms this is to “de-train”. Generally I don’t like long day train journeys, but this one has been great – not just the amazing scenery, the great people, but the space on a train like this make 11 hours a real pleasure.

I shall write a further wrap up, but this is the end of my U.S. train based adventure – one I would commend to you. I hope you have enjoyed my blog – let me know what you thought. If you have a spare moment, please do join my mail list if you would like to stay in touch.

I return to the station after a quick dinner to discover that tonight the train is just ten minutes behind schedule, so I ready myself on the platform. This is the first time that I have seen a Superliner (the double deck long distance trains) approach in the dark. It looks pretty special. First you hear it, the rumble, the tooting and the sound of nearby level crossings closing. Then you see the lights and its monsterous scale. Finally, you get to see just how shiny it is – every light in the station reflects off the silvery sides and bounces back at you.

A chap called Art will be my conductor tonight. He shows me upstairs where I’m in roomette number three. My bed is already made up, but it’s too early for bed, so I remove the bed roll, store it in the top bunk and pull the seats back up. With a glass of wine in one hand, I complete my usual procedure of downloading and editing the photographs that I have taken during the day. Then I start to charge up all my devices ready for tomorrow morning. I’m getting good this, and have even now worked out how to send my pictures wirelessly from my camera to my iPad, then after editing, to airdrop them onto my Macbook. There is no IT department at Matthew Woodward Adventure!

A glance of my watch and I remember that we are already on Pacific time, so I remake my bed. Sleep comes easily, and I wake the next morning to hear Art encouraging passengers to visit the dining car for breakfast at 06.00. I’m skipping this culinary treat and will grab something in L.A.

The landscape has changed overnight. Passing through the outskirts of the city Los Angeles the houses are low and Spanish styled. Palm trees grow in their gardens. As we get into the downtown area the empty concrete canals remind me straightaway of two Hollywood films. The classic alien ant film “Them”, and more recently, “Terminator II” – the scene where Arnie escapes from the T1000 killer cyborg made of liquid poly metal on his Harley with John Connor.

Union Station is much calmer than I had anticipated, and although there are plenty of vagrants wandering about, it looks fairly safe to me. There are no obvious gangs waiting in the concourse looking to recruit passengers or indeed any angry people shooting at each other. A couple of friendly cops observe what people are up to, ready to deal with any problems. “To protect and to serve”.

This has been my final Amtrak overnight journey. I have very much enjoyed travelling on the Superliners. Not only are the Roomettes great for one person, there is a real sense of space with several places to enjoy the journey – the cabin, the dining car, the observation car, and even the café. The food has also been quite reasonable, and the company great. Americans love to socialise on train journeys. Amtrak may not always be on time, but they are comfortable and fun.

I’m off to Long Beach now for a quick stay on the Queen Mary. This is a reminder that I have finally reached the Pacific Ocean. Just sixteen days ago I was looking out at the Atlantic from a boat in New York harbour. I have therefore successfully completed my U.S coast to coast rail challenge. But my train adventure isn’t over yet though. Tomorrow I’m getting on to a day train to San Francisco. It’s called “The Coast Starlight”, not as I keep telling people at the bar, “The Starlight Express”!

On some days they run a steam train, but today we are hauled by a nicely restored class EMD F40 locomotive with matching silver vintage carriages. My seat is comfy enough in a slightly too tightly packed coach class carriage. Other options include panorama carriages, and a spacious cafe car, where I end up spending much of the journey. Onboard it is nearly all tour groups – I’m told that people who live in the national park have to work in the national park, so there are no real rail commuters as such.

As the train gradually climbs up to the rim, our car attendant introduces herself. Her name is Kathy, but she tells us everyone calls her “Kathy with a K”. Much of the two and a half hour journey is spent answering her questions and participating in increasingly bizarre tests of our knowledge of the United States. Occasionally the train comes to a halt to let unhurried cattle cross the line. Outside as the trees thin out, moose and deer also seem unphased by the bright shiny train passing through.

We arrive on time at the South Rim station and back in – there is a loop in the line, so trains can be turned around easily for the return. A short climb up some steps and there was the canyon itself, far more beautiful in reality than in any photograph. I spent several hours walking around the rim and fending off excitable squirrels (the park rangers claim that they carry the plague). The average North American visitor seems unphased by the drop of nearly a mile, with no rails or safety barriers to save anyone if they get caught in a gust of wind. I stayed well back from the edge having a lifelong phobia or fear of falling.

Things get a little surreal on the train on the way back to Williams. Men appear on horseback waving guns and board the train with the intention of robbing the passengers, followed closely by a Marshall in hot pursuit. Nothing to worry about though, just a bit of well staged theatre to pass the time as we trundle back down the line. The journey time is around two and a half hours, and this is perfect, as it gives time to take in the experience and the scenery without getting bored.

The plan this evening is a cunning one. Rather than catch the next train from the Amtrak platform here in Williams, I’m headed back to Flagstaff in the bus to pick the train up further up the line – this till leaves an hour or so for dinner before boarding the “Southwest Chief” bound for Los Angeles. I’m told it often arrives from Chicago several hours late, so I have provisions for a midnight feast at the station if it all goes pear shaped.

My journey today is a totally a tourist one, but in the past it was a vital part of the incredible story of the gold and silver rushes. The Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railway was built in a hurry in 1882. Much dynamite was consumed cutting a path through the Animas Valley and the San Juan mountains.

I’m booked on the 14.30 departure from Silverton, so have time for lunch in a micro brewery before hopping aboard. The craft beer in these parts has been a bit of revelation. Silverton is unspoiled, and all that has really changed in the last 100 years is that today people arrive by Harley-Davidson or recreational vehicle, rather than by horse.

What strikes me about the railway is that this isn’t a few devoted volunteers and a single locomotive, but a thriving route with at least half a dozen working steam trains and plenty of rolling stock. I watch the 13.45 train depart and see another one being readied for departure later in the afternoon as I wait to board.

The brightly painted yellow carriages (actually repainted this colour for Hollywood films) are a mixture of open and closed cars, together with a cafe car serving food and snacks. In carriage 20 the seats are not the most comfy in the world (they remind me of Thai 3rd class), but they will be fine for the 3 or 4 hours it takes to get to Durango. Right on time the 1925 Pennsylvania built K36 loco toots its seriously loud horn and we rumble slowly down the line at walking pace.

The scenery is pretty amazing and as the train switches across the river I’m given occasional views of the black loco billowing smoke as we progress through the mountains. I wonder if the open carriage is such as good idea, as there is so much smoke at times that its passengers may well resemble kippers by the time we reach Durango.

The landscape is strangely familiar, and there is a good reason why. A huge number of Hollywood films have been shot here. I’m personally not a Western fan, but even I can see cues from more recent films like “Cliffhanger” and “Thelma & Louise”. Mark, our Brakeman, and Jed, our cafe attendant, both point out things along the way. As we climb higher into the mountains the drop next to the track to the bottom of the valley becomes huge and is not for the faint hearted. This reminds of of something.. Mark explains that it’s the place where the “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” river jump was shot. Paul Newman and Robert Redford only fell about 5 feet, but some poor stuntmen did the whole thing.

All too soon we descend into the outskirts of Durango, the train tooting frequently to tell the locals of our imminent arrival. They seem to love the train, and there is a reception committee outside most houses waving at us as we pass by. Durango is much bigger than Silverton, and the train looks a bit incongruous in the shadow of its modern buildings.

Later in the evening I enjoy a local pale ale sat outside a nearby bar. The trains run until sunset and I discover that their whistle is loud enough across Durango to prevent any form of verbal communication as they cross the road outside the station.

I’m back on the bus for a couple of days, but bound for the Grand Canyon by train from Flagstaff later in the week.

As it’s my second night on an Amtrak sleeper I know the drill. Bob turns out to be the conductor of my carriage, no 532, and he greets me at the door. It will be the last I see of him. On board I’m in roomette number 3 on the top deck. But so is someone else, and it turns out the whole carriage is double booked. A new schedule means the carriage numbers have changed and the booking system has collapsed. There is an American tour group on board, and their tour leader, a lady called Patti, is keen to get me and a few others turfed out of what she believes is her carriage. The ticket inspector is a middle aged Polish lady who doesn’t know what to do other than throw her arms in the air and say that there is a big problem. After an hour or so she calls a conference in the observation car and a plan is put into effect. I’m exchanged like a refugee from one carriage to another, and welcomed in my new car, no 531, by a lady called Jenelle. She is the only one of the crew who seems calm and helpful, the rest just seem to hide and leave it to someone else to sort it out. 531 has been refurbished and is slightly nicer than 532. It is also the carriage next to the restaurant, so I’m closer to the bar – this move is a win/win.

Jenelle comes to see me with her manifest and a worried look. I fear I’m on the move again, so I set a firm tone that I have moved once and I’m not going to play a further game of musical roomettes (chairs). There is clearly still a problem. Tired of hearing people talk about whre I should be moved to next, I decide to leave 531 all together and head for the observation car. This one is a bit different, the bar is downstairs. Here a man called Martin serves drinks, snacks and offers his brand of madcap humour. He wears a badge with a “needle” gauge indicating how mad he is feeling – it is already in the orange zone and its only five o’clock. From time to time he passes through the car doing a dance whilst blowing his train whistle. Its rather zany for Amtrak – more like Butlin’s on soft drugs. I sip a can of Bud and eat pretzels whilst chatting to other passengers – I’m reaching a view that American trains are some of the most social that I have ever been on. In fact try stopping them talking! I’m in that rail zen place – drinking my beer and staring out at the vast corn fields and the setting sun.

At 17.40 we cross the Mississippi river and the train stops briefly at Burlington. I bump into a couple of friends who are sleeping at the other end of the train. An American gentleman explains that there is a “transition car” down there – it’s a new word for me and I have to get a translation – this is the car where the crew sleep. The train really is full and they are having to use every available berth tonight.

The conductor points out interesting places and features. As we pass though Ottumwa, Iowa, we are reminded that this was the factitious home of Radar O’Reilly from the hit TV series of the 1970’s “MASH”. Who knows, one day that could be a vital pub quiz fact.

My dinner reservation is for 19.45, a very late time for the average American. I opt for the chicken with baked potato and what turns out to be a rather good Californian chardonnay. Service is both friendly and relaxed. Dan, our attendant, answers questions about life on the rails as well as American television programmes between courses.

Back in 531 Jenelle makes up my bed and all I have to do is to put my watch back an hour to “mountain time” before retiring. The night is quite bumpy, and I’m woken at 01.27 by a collosal sway which throws the contents of my washbag all over the roomette. Other than that I sleep soundly in the comfy lower berth.

Dawn breaks over a dull grey plain at about 06.30 the next morning. Although it looks flat we have been climbing all night and are now close to a mile high. I can verify tis as my water bottle creaks every now and then with the reduced air pressure.

I have given up on getting any breakfast this morning as nearly everyone is getting off at Denver and there is no way the restaurant will cope with all its customers between its opening at 6.00am and our scheduled arrival at 7.15am. But about 30 minutes before we arrive Jenelle spots what I have done and offers to go and fetch me breakfast and serve it in my roomette. I steer clear of the grits and have an omelette with bacon and potatoes (every American breakfast seems to have potatoes).

We are about 25 minutes late into Denver, and the final approach is a dead slow reverse into the station through a busy freight yard. Out on the platform I thank the crew, say goodbye to Patti, and find a jumper in my bag. Its much colder than Chicago, maybe 15 C. For the next few days I will be travelling by tour bus to connect up some tourist train journeys, but today is just R&R in Denver to recover and get used to the thinner air. The news back at the hotel isn’t good though, the Rockies National Park have closed one of the main access roads today due to snow – my plans may well be changing over the next few hours..

As I have time to spare I take a walk down to the front of the train where two locomotives are already attached to haul us west. The train is made up of two sleepers, a dining car (with bar area), an observation car and then two more regular seated carriages.

My carriage is number 2900, and on returning to it I find that the conductor has locked the door thinking everyone was on board. No need to panic, I have lots of time in hand. I wave through the window at him whilst trying to look calm. Once he has finished a speech on the PA he opens the door to let me in, helps me with my bag and introduces himself as Cliff. He seems very friendly. After showing me to my roomette on the lower deck (no 13) he checks that I have a table reservation for dinner and explains how things work. He also books in a time later on to make my bed up for the night.

Washington D.C. (departs) 16.05

Pittsburgh (departs) 23.59

Cleveland (departs) 02.59

Toledo (departs) 05.22

Chicago (arrives) 08.45

764 miles, 1230 km

My first thought is that I wish I was on the upper deck, but once we get going I realise the degree of sway up top is significantly magnified, and it feels like we have put to sea in a moderate swell up there. Instinctively – like being on a Boeing 747 – I aspire to be up top looking down, but I think the lower deck here has other advantages. Passengers walk between cars on the upper deck, so down here is quieter and less disturbed as there is a dead end at each end of the carriage – just the doors onto the platform half way along and the stairs up to the top deck. There are also two toilets and a shower nearby (but not too nearby) – there is only one shared by more roomettes on top. I shall update on this view as I will probably be on the upper deck for a later journey.

My roomette reminds me of the Australian (Indian Pacific) single room layout, as I will be sleeping in the direction of travel – in my opinion this is the most effective solution for good rail based slumber. It’s compact, but well laid out. It also has a second berth up top, but I will be using it just for single occupancy. I decide to unpack as best as I can in a space 6 feet by 3 feet, and wonder what to wear to dinner. I can’t help but think of one of my favourite train films, “Silver Streak”. All the cues of the film are around me, even though this particular type of carriage wasn’t built until a nearly decade after it was released. I have that film on my iPad, and will try to watch it later on. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.

With no immediate tasks to attend to, I explore the train in the manner of a small excited boy at the start of a new term at boarding school. Climbing up to the top deck I walk straight through to the restaurant (easy to use the press button air powered doors), meet the chefs, then through a bar area and on to the observation car. The train feels quite empty and I think the passenger density is low for the amount of space we have. Can you imagine an observation carriage (or even a proper bar) on the train from London to Edinburgh?!

I enjoy a couple of Yuengling beers in the observation car before dinner. As we pass through Virginia the scenery at first appears to be the stuff of picture postcards. White washed wooden boarded houses with neat lawns and stars and stripes flapping in the gentle breeze. Eagles flying over lush forests and river valleys. But behind the trees I can spot hidden trailer parks, rusty cars and higgledy shacks.

We pick up speed after a short stop and I notice that other than the swaying motion, the ride is quite smooth. No rough points or clattering bogies most of the time. Hopefully that bodes well for some sleep later. On the subject of sleep, I purchased some combined painkilling and sleeping tablets from a local drugstore yesterday as I have been having a bit of foot pain, I took one last night and fell asleep almost instantly – I didn’t even manage to get out of my chair and into bed they worked so fast. A couple of glasses of merlot might have accelerated their effect!

I’m liking the mix of people on the train, and wonder who I will be sat with at dinner. It really does look like a slice across American life here. The college student on one side of me has a star intriguingly tattooed at the top of her right breast. The elderly couple on the other side of me are Amish and wear gowns and aprons. The man has a big white beard and is very friendly. Other than testing my knowledge of Chaucer he asks me questions like “What are your hopes for the trip?”. It’s a good question, and I have no immediate answer.

Dinner turns out to be a pleasant surprise – ranch salad, a carefully cooked steak and half a bottle of Cabernet. The price of the food is included in the cost of the roomette. The table policy is called “community seating” – you get to sit with people you don’t know, which is great fun or a disaster, depending on how you feel about that. I found it great, and we all agreed how people don’t even make eye contact on planes these days, but on trains like this you get to enjoy dinner together.

I retire early and when I get back to my room I see that Cliff has been busy, it’s now two beds with no space to do anything other than sleep. The bed is very comfortable and I fall asleep after watching the first five minutes of “Silver Streak”.  The driver toots his horn throughout the night, but I find it a soporiphic noise, more reminiscent of a Wild West film than a disturbance. I sleep so well that I rise well rested at 6am to have breakfast and watch the sun rise.

Breakfast is a bit weird, but I’m determined to try new things. I opt for Creole scrambled eggs with grits. I can’t really describe what this tastes like. It’s my first experience of grits, and combined with the spicy sauce, I might just as well have been eating spaghetti bolognaise for breakfast. Whenever I hear the very word “grits” I always think of a rather unexpectedly good film, “My Cousin Vinny”. Grits become a key part of the plot, and I won’t reveal why, but the film well illustrates the reverence with which some Americans treat their breakfast dish of choice. Having tried them with an open mind, I have to tell you that I’m not a fan at all. It will be French toast for me next time.

It’s beginning to get light outside. Good morning Indiana! The timetable says we are due to stop at a place called South Bend at 07.51, and here the clocks go back an hour as we cross the state line and enter Illinois. Things are going too well though – Amtrak trains take second priority after freight, and we get delayed by around an hour before we can get going again. At 09.45 we arrive into Chicago Union station – and it looks very familiar. It doesn’t take me long to work out why. The steps on one side of the lobby where I exit the station were featured in “The Untouchables” (1987). Sean Connery at his very best!

I only have a day or so in Chicago before getting back on the rails. It seems like a very civilised city and I wish I had longer here. I shall report back from the Californian Zephyr  in a couple of days – next destination – Denver, Colorado.

The subterranean world of “Penn” is busy place, but not by Chinese standards. Wikipedia says that this is the busiest station in the Western Hemisphere, serving around 600 000 passengers a day. I think I have missed the rush hour though – there are no serious crowds and everything looks well ordered. I still wish I was setting out on my adventure from Grand Central Station, but that serves lines going in other directions, so “Penn” will have to do today.

The atmosphere is understandably sombre, as it is the morning of the 16th anniversary of 9/11. Small groups of soldiers dressed in disruptive camouflage uniforms observe the crowd, whilst the police hold a short parade in the concourse next to the lounge complete with pipers and drums. Around them a few people stop to watch and take pictures whilst others hurry on to catch their waiting trains.

I’m amused to listen to the two competing announcers on the public address system – it’s just like the opening scene of the classic disaster genre comedy film “Airplane”, with conflicting advice about where to wait and what is happening on various platforms underneath us. I’m not sure if I’m in the blue zone or the white zone.. My most challenging moment of the morning comes from my visit to the toilets just a few minutes before boarding. There in the middle of the room sits a man on a toilet doing his business without a care in the world, or any screening around him. He looks at me with a strange glint in his eye as I do my best to ignore him and find a safer place. Quite why I cannot work out, but I’m rather wishing I could un-see that.

My train today is a regional service, and I can see from the departures board that there is actually a faster train on the same route (the Acela Express), but I’m in no hurry. Being new to train travel in this country, I also realise that Amtrak is actually just one of several train companies operating on this line. In 1970, the Rail Passenger Service Act effectively amalgamated most of the separate operating companies into one, but a few remained independent. Today Amtrak is struggling to make money, and the current president has said that he wants to reduce long distance routes from 43 to just 23 states. That’s very sad news, and I hope it never happens.

New York City (depart) 09.35

Philadelphia (depart) 11.11

Baltimore (depart) 12.18

Washington DC (arrive) 13.05

Boarding of the North East Regional 141 service is civilised, as passengers descend via an escalator onto the platform once the train is ready on the platform. After ten minutes we set off (almost on time) with much bell ringing and tooting, perhaps more reminiscent of the Wild West. After a few minutes in the tunnel under the Hudson river, the train emerges into a bright New Jersey morning as we trundle through the outer suburbs.

My first impressions of the coach class carriage that I am sat in are that it is both clean and pretty comfortable. It is the equivalent of second class, but the seats are more roomy, the climate is good and the toilets are possibly the cleanest I have ever seen on a train. There are no reserved seats, but the system works as only so many tickets are sold in each carriage. Passengers are guaranteed a seat. The conductor folds ticket stubs and inserts them in different ways on the rail above the seats, but I can’t decode what this means. There is a new and slightly strange train dialect. Baggage can apparently be in the plural, things will happen “presently” and the conductor will “communicate to let the passengers know”.

Behind the carriage I am in is a “cafe car” selling drinks and snacks, but I don’t use it as I have had a big breakfast in my local Upper West side diner before setting out. Instead I relax and listen to the remastered version of “Animals” by Pink Floyd.

The journey gets a lot more scenic as we get further south, but as is always the way with trains, you also get see the worst and most run down parts of cities from the rails; Philly and Baltimore are not seen at their tourism best from my window. We arrive in “DC” nearly on time and emerge into a station concourse that I know Michael Portillo speaks highly of. It is grand and imposing, reflective of the city I’m staying in for the next couple of days before getting onto my first big train, the Capitol Limited.

Outside I jostle with a weird mixture of men wearing dark suits with secret service issue sunglasses and homeless people carrying all their possessions on trolleys or in bin bags. A beggar pursues me on his mobility scooter, so I have take evasive action, only to bump into a well dressed lady at the road crossing who wants to tell me all about her religion. Later, in the nearby Irish bar I drink a couple of pints with the locals, whilst watching both a football and a baseball match simultaneously on two screens. They are very friendly, and the social norm seems to be to say hello and introduce yourself on arrival at the bar. The only problem I’m having so far is getting any writing done, as it’s nearly impossible to get them to stop talking without appearing rude.

More news of my adventure when I reach Chicago in a couple of days.