1 February

Ah, the bliss of sleeping in! That was this morning, as at about 8 I pondered my moves for the day. The first order of business was to get the clothes out for the day (memo: look outside first – saw deep snow – wear T-shirt) and then pack everything away – remember, if there is nothing left, then I have it, even if I can’t see it.
After ablutions I was ready. To the station, check in bags, finish off the tour. First problem – the bill was incorrect, so I got that fixed up. Second problem – the front door was closed because of the weather (that should have told me something but no, I know better). Third problem was the taxis were down at the Hilton because I was now in rush hour (8:30). The fourth problem became evident as I scrambled my way the 100 metres from the front desk through the garage, along Eighth Street to Michigan and then to the Hilton. Apart from falling once, nearly falling twice, having a pile of snow about half the height of my suitcase in front of it (and although snow looks light, try pushing it in front of wheeled luggage) and seeing the slush on the road and the snow on the footpath (sorry, sidewalk), the falling snow convinced me I should reconsider my idea. I got a cab almost straight away and, after the trunk (boot for us) was popped and I put my bag in, I hopped in to find I had a good driver. He took off gently, looked and went around the corner carefully. At each intersection he allowed vehicles to clear before he entered and he maintained good clearance to the vehicle in front. When we got to Union Station I resolved to tip him for good service, so he got out and took my suitcase from the boot. However just to get to the station took superhuman effort through the snow, so I decided to spend the time waiting in the station until the train left at 2.
The first part was easy – I found breakfast at the station for $1.99 ( little extra with some things I wanted) and it included TOAST. Out with the Vegemite and my little taste buds were in clover. I had a look around the station area and got a drink, then went to the Metropolitan Lounge (that’s the fancy waiting place for Sleeping Car passengers, who have paid a lot more for the trip, so they get looked after before the trip). Here I put my luggage in so I didn’t have to carry it around. I then had a good look around Union Station, Chicago. It is quite expansive, all undercover, and it contains some beautiful architecture. The art deco signs outside and the waiting area (Great Hall) inside are simply magnificent, and like the old library, need to be preserved for posterity.
Back in the Lounge I found out that drinks were free, as were small muffins. The toilets were a class above the others in the general waiting areas. So I settled down and wrote up part of my paper diary and listened to a book. The call for tickets and boarding was scheduled for 1; that time was approaching and I began to get more excited as my first (and most likely last) AMTRAK sleeper experience was approaching.
Like many other things, it was approaching. At 1:15 it was approaching. It continued to be approaching at 1:30. It reminded me of promises made you hope are fulfilled, but you fear they will not. A mother with one toddler and one still in a stroller was running out of ways to amuse them and stop the older from cuddling, kissing, slapping and hitting the younger. Older people were becoming restless. A family with two young girls had them doing everything they could in the Lounge short of watching a soap (more trivial entertainment was on the TV screen). I got my luggage, sure that as 2 approached, we would be told what track our train was on and we would be out. Our tickets were clipped, but still nothing until just before 2, up flashed “delayed” on the California Zephyr. After another half hour I ended up chatting with the clerk (his family had a real railway background and he was able to tell me that US rail used the same heavy and light rail as Australia) and then with another frustrated fellow traveller. Dan, from Las Vegas, was with security at casinos and was on his way back from a successful operation to recover money for a casino. We compared careers (and with the length of the wait, both our careers looked like extending even further before we became passengers) and finally, at after 3:30, we were called to board.
The delay was apparently because the overnight crew couldn’t get out of their driveways (too much snow) and the day crew couldn’t complete all the maintenance necessary in the time allocated, so we all waited.
Once on board I found my room (13, towards the front of the second sleeping car and on the lower level). It had two berths (but I was the only one in there) and there were toilets and a shower just down the corridor. I went along to check everything and take some photos and met Rick. We chatted about photography, especially from trains. I booked in for early dinner, then settled into my berth. After some more chatting with Rick, I went to dinner.
My dinner companions were Steve (a librarian), Ron (an underwriter liability tester in the fire area) and Dan (no not that Dan, a younger fellow). I would like to say that we all revealed mysteries and nefarious deeds from our pasts to each other, that the lighting failed, that there was a murder which occurred while the lights were out and that our combined talents solved the mystery even before the police arrived. However we simply detailed what we did and enjoyed a good meal with congenial company. After starting at 6:15, we had finished by 8:30. I got my laptop, fully intending to blog my way to the end of this day. I was waylaid, caught out by Donna, who had lived with her dentist husband in Bega for a year or so in 1969. Then we were joined by Dan (no, yet another Dan) and we went on to discuss Chicago, education opportunities, my trip and what I should see in San Francisco and San Diego. Why research beforehand when there are so many wonderful sources of information to hand? The only thing is, if I followed all advice, I would be back home in June 2800, not June 2008. Dan (yes, the original) popped by to say he had a rather weird companion from a few doors down who was making himself at home – but in Dan’s compartment, not his – and that once he was rid of him he would be back.
However, the toll of waiting was more tiring than touring and so I retired to my berth (which had been made up for the night), finished my blog and lay back to watch the world go by as I entered into the arms of Morpheus.