Fulfilling the Amtrak Dream

The seat was wide and comfortable, with more than enough space in front to go full stretch without any problem. A small panel on the side had outlets to plug in your device(s). The window was huge, and the ceiling was high. At long last, I was finally fulfilling my lifelong dream of riding the famous Amtrak of America. It took off exactly on schedule, 5:45 p.m., if I remember correctly, from the cavernous Philadelphia station.

It was the start of a journey that began with my reaching New York fifteen days earlier. Unlike the last time I landed at Kennedy Airport, some years ago, when things weren’t that automated, this time around, we had to have our passports machine-read in an automatic kiosk. I wasn’t familiar with this, and because I was carrying two passports (the old one with the visa, and the new machine readable passport, that is, MRP) things became a little complicated for me, with several sorry’s having to be endured before finally getting the all-clear.

So, naturally, by the time I handed over my machine-read slip to the immigration guy, all my co-passengers had already left the airport. I didn’t see anybody at the baggage carousel, which was going around empty, my bags nowhere in sight. Fortunately, a baggage handler pointed out a group of bags at one corner, and yes, my bags were among them. Relieved, I fed a five dollar bill into the trolley dispenser, and loaded my bulging suitcases on one. Why were they bulging? That’s another story, and which gave me a lot of problems back in Kathmandu, because I nearly had to pay a hefty excess baggage fee.

But, like I said, that’s another story. Really, international travel over long distances is bound to be pretty adventurous, don’t you think? This time, I flew from Kathmandu to Istanbul to New York. I would have flown on to Philadelphia, my immediate next destination, but somebody was coming to pick me up, so I drove the four hours to my destination, where I spent the next fifteen days. Of course, I did move around quite a bit, to Maryland, Washington, Delaware, and so on. Then, it was time to say goodbye to wintry Philly and travel to Orlando in the sunshine state of Florida.

Ordinarily, I would have flown, because that’s the easiest way to reach point ‘b’ from point ‘a’ in good ol’ U.S.A. That’s what most people do. However, this time around (after two previous trips to the States) I was hell-bent on riding the Amtrak, come what may. So, I booked a ticket online, it cost around 136 dollars (this was a week or so before X’mas, otherwise it would have been double that amount the closer the days to the big day). Since I was living in West Goshner, I had to catch a Philly-bound Amtrak first to reach Philadelphia. Took an hour, or so, but the train was so damn comfortable, I enjoyed the journey.

I disembarked at the 30^th Street Station, a major junction for Amtrak, where I had to wait for an hour or so for my next Amtrak to Kissimmee in Orlando, my final destination. The huge statio  nlounge was well-occupied with many passengers bound for different destinations. I checked in my two suitcases at the baggage check-in counter, and felt free as a bird. A large ticker gave continuous information on incoming and outbound trains, and fifteen minutes before embarking, passengers were asked over a speaker to line up at the entrances leading to the cavernous station one floor below. I waited impatiently, as you can imagine, excited as I was to take off on a night of adventure on a long-distance Amtrak, and really and truly fulfill a long cherished dream.

Finally, my time came, and I lined up with others in front of the stairs going down. A uniformed usher checked our tickets and let us pass. The station below was darker than above, and because it was open space, the air was freezingly cold. Anyway, we didn’t have to wait long; our Amtrak glided in gracefully, and we started boarding. The usher gave me a seat number, and I walked through the long and spacious cabin to my seat. It was like sitting in a business class seat on a plane, so comfortable was the seating arrangement. I was delighted, because I’ve often been disappointed at discovering that the reality does not always live up to my high expectations.

I settled down, my laptop plugged in and sitting comfortably on the fold-out table, my smartphone on charge, and the seat beside me, vacant. I stretched out my legs, and taking off my boots, rested my feet on the footrest. Heavenly! I was very happy indeed at my state of comfort, and a feeling of great wellbeing swept through my body. Amtrak was living up to every expectation of mine. One has to admire America for many things, and one of them is the spaciousness it provides in almost every sphere of human activity. The restaurants have more than enough chairs and tables to sit all who come in, the buses are huge and capacious, the roads are really wide, including the pavements, the parks are expansive, and Amtrak trains are big and beautiful.

At exactly the appointed hour, to the second, our train started moving. It was already getting dark outside, so I couldn’t see much, even if the window was as wide as could be. Perhaps the dawn would bring in some great sights, I thought. For the time being, however, it didn’t matter to me. I was reveling in a feeling of achievement, and couldn’t stop congratulating myself. I was riding an Amtrak for a twenty-four journey through America! I was at long last living a dream.

After some time, I got up and strolled through the cabin, and passing through the linking doors, walked through two more cabins before arriving at the bar and restaurant, where service was provided by uniformed bartenders and waiters. The tables in the restaurant had elegant snow-white tablecloths and linen napkins and shining cutlery and dishes, and the waiters were a mature lot. I must have a meal here, that’s what went through my mind. I mustn’t miss this experience! And, so, the advent of the morn found me sitting at a table and going over the slim menu. An American breakfast, that’s what I would be having.It wasn’t that good, sorry to say, but I left a tip of a dollar and some change anyway, because if there is anything I know about America, it is that you are a barbarian if you forget to tip in a restaurant.

Anyway, the morning light through the windows of the swiftly moving train was pleasant to the senses, but unfortunately, there wasn’t much to see, as the scenery outside consisted mostly of similar-looking trees and other greenery. That’s why, when we stopped at a station, I was happy to see signs of life, such as a couple of trucks, a few people, although it wasn’t really much of a sight. After all, we were going through the ‘Deep South’ of the United States, once infamous for its slavery, and I expected to see more. However, my keen eyes did observe that many passengers getting on board along the way at various stations appeared to be the typical ‘red neck’ kind of Americans I had heard about—huge guys and huge gals, usually in jeans and flannel shirts, most of them blond and white. In the course of our journey, we passed through Washington, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia, before entering the state of Florida through Jacksonville.

While it was something I could get some self-satisfaction from—traveling through such a historical region—I must admit that I didn’t see much, if anything at all, except for the same kind of scenery mile after mile. Anyway, by and by, I finally arrived at Kissimmee, where some relatives had come to greet me, and I rode in their swanky Toyota to their home in Orlando, some twenty minutes away. And, that’s how my epic trip on an Amtrak ended.