29 January

Memo:
Good ideas useful so far include: power board with only one adaptor,; having currency in the country I’m arriving in already; writing up blog each day; deciding not to carry any excess material (either dispose of it, keep it if small and useful, or post it home when it becomes too much to carry); using public transport (get to see far more of the city.
Bad ideas include not having enough pockets, but next time I will alter what I carry.

The early morning wakeup call did not happen (thank goodness) so it was about 8:30 by the time I rose and went through my normal procedure. I had noticed an express checkout slip under my door, and as I had not incurred any extra charges (as far as I knew), I chose that option. A quick call to the front desk verified that and I was off.
The subway station was at the corner of the block (ten metres from the front door), but the line to Penn Station was a longer walk – but still within the same area, and all underground. It was a quick trip to the station and there I deposited my luggage (backpack and suitcase) so I could walk around unencumbered.
When I walked out I found I was at the main entrance to the station – at Madison Square – so I walked down 32nd to Broadway and decided to walk it, looking at the sights along the way, seeing if I could get a SIM card and also get some breakfast. The first thing that got to me was the lack of traffic – perhaps it was just where I was, but there wasn’t much at all. The second thing was that about half the traffic was New York taxis; a further quarter was commercial traffic and less than a quarter were private vehicles (I know it doesn’t totally add up, but private limousines and hire cars accounted for the difference). The second thing was the amount of sidewalk covered over by scaffolding because of either building or renovation above. The third thing was the number of small shops located on the first floor (our ground) of almost every building. Not only were there so many of them, but they looked to be poorly patronised. The fourth (and last) thing was the sheer number and variety of street vendors (all licenced and wearing their tags). Here I couldn’t resist a bargain, and at five T-shirts for $10, I promised I would buy some on the way back. Just after that I found my first place where I could get a SIM card. The person fitting it assured me I didn’t need a PIN (I hope that’s correct) and made sure it worked (1-347-659-8149 from within the US, 0011 1 347 659 8149 from Australia and ? from elsewhere). One task down and one to go. As I progressed further south hunger and thirst overcame good judgement, so McDonalds came to the fore again. An interesting sign in every store I saw was a time limit of 20 minutes for consuming food and no loitering if you don’t buy food. The toilets were usually locked. Twenty-five minutes later I left, fortunately not evicted or arrested. I was at Union Square, so I photographed that and other places on the way back. By this stage walking was beginning to pall, as was seeing more and more of the same. At one traffic light I commented to German tourists that it was only visitors to New York who obeyed the “Don’t Walk” signs – they agreed, and just to reinforce it, a traffic policeman walked against the red, with a phalanx of natives beside and behind him. Oh to see a Melbourne Victoria Police officer handing out tickets for walking against the red!
I got back to the T-shirt vendor, who recognised me but had his wares covered because it was showering. He quickly uncovered them and I bought five shirts of varying sizes. He knew that Heath ledger had died, but little else of Australia. The only problem with detailing that is my nephews will know how little I spent on the things that will be arriving in Adelaide as soon as I get to a Post Office and can send them over (remember, it’s the thought that counts and the postage will probably bring them up to Australian retail).
Back at Penn Station I looked for somewhere to sit. You have to produce your ticket to sit in the waiting lounge, so I did so and was sat next to by a lady from New York who was off to Washington for a funeral. Discussing my views so far of New York, she agreed that the subways were dirty, New Yorkers rude and not inclined to obey directions and that the population and size were large. Just before she went, we parted and she said she was going to enjoy the funeral – the celebration afterwards would be too good to miss!
I got a drink and had that, read the complimentary New York Post (which was being handed out free) – the style seemed like something out of an old movie and definitely did not make me want to buy the full edition – and did the Sudoku to keep my mind active, lest it atrophy from too much writing and not enough thinking. I messaged Fran with my new SIM (didn’t call as she is fifteen and a half hours ahead, which would make it about 5:30 a.m.) and tried to call Peggy in Arizona, but now answer (so I don’t know if I called correctly and she just wasn’t I, or whether I was using a wrong number).
I picked up my luggage from the Parcel Check, waited a few minutes more, and then at 3:40 boarded the train. This time it was just show the ticket (push the passport out of the way) and down. So I boarded Train 49, the Lake Shore Limited, for Chicago.

Here I was fortunate enough to meet a local from Chicago, Bart, who was able to explain the easiest way to get to the hotel I am booked into (and knew of it, Essex on Michigan). He also sat on the opposite window seat so, if there were interesting sights, we would be able to move seats and I could see them. This reinforced my view of the friendliness of Americans, certainly common to all I have met. Before we left the station Bart pointed out a relic of the past grandeur of the Pennsylvania Railroad Station in New York – a finely crafted bronze handrail, contrasting with the current utilitarian steel. Within a few minutes he was pointing out the Hudson River, so we sat together and introduced each other to many aspects of our respective countries.
This car we are in (all travelling through to Chicago) has power sockets, but only one to each pair of seats, so I can’t recharge the mobile or iPod at the same time as using the laptop. Bart headed off to dinner (at the first, 5:30 call) while I blogged valiantly on.
Two girls further down the car had picked on My accent and when I heard the word “Australian”, I headed back and spoke to them. It turned out that Lauren had studied in Australia at Melbourne University in 2006 and done some travelling, including up to Cairns and down to Phillip Island, the Grampians and the Great Ocean Road. We spoke about many of the differences, in food, culture and sport, and she became quite moved and expressed a strong desire to return to visit soon. I detailed my future trips, both for this section and for the next half, and got some hints. The two girls are going to Seattle to house-sit for Lauren’s grandparents and I referred to the now notorious “Corey” party in Melbourne and hoped they didn’t do the same. After giving them my photo address on Flickr, I returned to do some more writing.
Not long after I came across my first unsavoury incident on trains. Talking to a father of youug children while waiting at the end of the carriage (they were going out ot California to visit), it was pointed out that the passenger in front of them was intoxicated in some way, rude, abusive and had been bothering his children. Over the next few minutes he created incidents with other passengers in the carriage and not long after the train staff moved hm to another carriage – but he continued to be troublesome there, so the staff were able to get him off the train. That was the only incident in what will eventually total not much under 10 000 miles of travel in less than three weeks.
I got to chatting with the family – Greg had been in the Navy for five years, and his father had been in the USAF, but neither had got him to Australia, though he would love to visit. I then tried some puzzles on the children, but they were a little too young to manage them. At this stage the train conductor came back to get some witness statements, as his supervisor wanted all details fully documented. We were all only to glad to support him, but I couldn’t help as I have no permanent address here.
Back in my seat, it wasn’t that long before the Border Patrol came along to check if we were who we were supposed to be and entitled to be both on the train and in the US. I found the process quick and simple, simply having my passport ready with the ID page and the US visa page open for them. They were very polite and the whole procedure took only a few seconds. I think mutual respect – they have a job to do and as a visitor I have a duty to do – makes the process congenial to all.
Later in the evening Bart went through some photos with me of places I had visited in the US so far, and then I went through photos of our trip to Western Australia and some of Tasmania. The scenery in both places was different, and certainly different from the general scenery I have seen so far in the States – although as noted, the desert scenery in the south-west is similar to that of the Nullabour.
At just before 1, I settled down to rest. Sleep? Well, not if past experience is an example.