Today began at 6:30 after a long and quiet sleep. For the first time since I left home I slept in a bed which was away from noise and traffic. It seems my choice to stay away from the city was vindicated on at least two counts.
After thinking long and hard about getting up, I finally did so and prepared for the day. I was down at the front desk by 7:15 and asked about the shuttle. It was leaving in a few minutes, so I hung around and boarded it, after a few others did. It turned out he was going to the airport, so I had a scenic ride and a very quick chat with a couple who had three daughters in Hawaii and were going there for a wedding. The other brief chat was with a pilot with SouthWest Airlines – he had been in the USAF and would have liked an overseas posting to Australia, but they weren’t around for Hercules pilots.
It was only a few minutes and I was at the BART station. With BART police and such, I almost expected to see Bart Simpson suddenly appear. No such event happened – I got my ticket, waited for a few minutes (I wish the wait times at home were so short) and was off into San Francisco. I got off at Embarcadero station, went to the surface and caught the F-line, which has old tramcars running on it, from different lines and painted up in the original livery. I found out later they have two Melbourne W-class trams, but they are currently in for maintenance. I took that down to Pier 29 and caught the 9 a.m. departure for Alcatraz.
As an aside, the north-eastern corner of San Francisco is an arc which originally had piers radiating out from it. In the east was Pier 1 and in the north was Pier 47 (there may have been more, but that’s as high as listed currently). Many of them fell into disrepair as shipping diminished in importance and few remain in original condition. At least one (Pier 14) has been replaced with a modern version for recreation but many others have been adapted for different uses, such as markets, parking, storage and ferries. One, Pier 29, is used for Alcatraz. And so I set off. Fortunately (or if you’re an ex-student, unfortunately) I was able to return after, unlike some of the inmates.
We landed on the island, had our little reminders about what we weren’t allowed to do (eat, drink, go into prohibited areas), were told a little of the history of the island and then we (mostly) headed off to three theatrettes to watch a short documentary on the island of Alcatraz. It was interesting and covered from the creation of the island by flooding of the low-lying riverbed, through its different uses and the reasons for them up to its creation as a national park. Then it was a quick look at the static displays and then up to the cell block. Here we each took an audio tour of the block. It was well done (memo: remind commentators of self-guided tours to give further identification of where to go other than just left and right for we dyslexics who had to keep asking guides where the next place really was – you go right, sir – yes, but which right?) and covered all the essential features of the area. I bought a CD of the commentary, so those who have already been there can relive it, and those who haven’t may be able to do so vicariously through the pictures I took, with it. On the trip back I sat on the upper deck and took a few photos from there.
While there I met an English couple and a group travelling from Peru. You’ll see my photo with one from Peru.
Once back I walked along the Embarcadero, south-east, then turned up Greenwich Street to visit the Coit Tower. At the end of the street (one small block), it was steps all the way. I couldn’t believe the houses there, only a mile or so from the heart of San Francisco and only a laneway to access them (no road, so presumably no car) and surrounded by beautiful terraced gardens. It was a real oasis in a desert of asphalt and concrete. Finally I made it to Coit Tower (and know the best way to do it is by bus and then walk down) and, after paying, went up. The tower itself has an interesting history (provided for the city by a benefactor) but what is spectacular is the view. There are small windows all the way around and the views are all different and all stunning. I just hope the photos I took give it justice. If any of you ever visit San Francisco, even if you don’t go anywhere else, go there. The tourists up there were mainly American, and I spoke to one who was in San Francisco for work but had time off. He had “done” Highway 1 the day before and highly recommended it, but this took his breath away. Down the tower and on my way to Lombard Street (opposite direction this time) I met two women who lived here but had never been up here or taken photos there before. They took one of me and I took one of them. Then it was down west on Filbert Street (and down is no exaggeration, as it was steep, even on foot) to Washington Square. Again I met tourists (isn’t there anyone here who actually lives here and works?), this time from Germany. They didn’t even know of “Inspector Rex”, but thought the time I was going to be passing through Germany would be good for scenery. Going up north-west on Columbus, I ran into the English couple again and recommended the Coit Tower to them. When I turned west on Lombard, I couldn’t believe the tourists who were just standing in the road taking photos – even getting out of the car having driven down Lombard Street and just leaving the car while taking photos! For anyone interested, there are 251 steps up Lombard Street.
Having done all that exercise, it was time for another cable-car ride. This time I stood out the back and spoke to the brakeman. There were some interesting insights into how the cars work and how the brakemen work. After getting off at Market Street, I had some lunch and photographed Australia’s revenge – Westfield San Francisco. I looked for the Frank Lloyd Wright building in Maiden Lane but wasn’t sure whether I had found the correct one as there was nothing there to indicate it. Further down Maiden Lane I found two maidens, modelling in the window of a store. The owners had employed them for the launch of a new line of clothing. I smiled, they smiled back, I took my photo, they waved, I waved back and went on. I crossed over Market Street to look at the academic and museum quarter. I couldn’t believe the number of Universities and colleges that were a skyscraper or two. But I suppose that they have the equivalent facilities, just up instead of across. One museum (Californian History) looked very interesting, but they were finishing the display and weren’t open until tomorrow. In their bookshop there were many interesting books, but having to carry or post them stopped me from buying (but one full of old maps with text was very tempting!). Further down was a railway museum, small but extremely interesting. That’s where I found out they have Melbourne trams. I couldn’t resist getting a DVD of the trams.
Then, after getting more information from the guide there, I went back to the piers and went up the back of some, where there is not only full public access but wonderful views over the bay, with nothing in the way. Again I got some people to take photos of me with the bay in the background, but they at least were natives of the area.
By now it was starting to have the sun lower and the temperature lower too, so I took the BART back to Coliseum and called up the shuttle (but it was already on its way, so it arrived literally [okay, wrong use of the term – put that red pen away, Bruna, but everyone knows what I mean] a minute later) and was back at the hotel very soon. I went out to get some sealing plastic bags (my medicines in foil packs have torn the ones I put them in), some soap powder for clothes washing and some confectionary to have as emergency supplies in case I am in a position where I can’t get any food for a time. I went to the Pack’n’save to get these (fifty metres away) and, when the checkout girl asked if I had a Safeway card (yes, you read me right) and I said I didn’t as I was off tomorrow, a woman behind used her card – cut over $3 off the total of the tape – for me. Then I walked back and started the washing. To save time, I wrote this and transferred pictures over while washing and drying.
At 8:45 I have finished the washing, drying, folding and packing. The suitcase is ready for tomorrow and I have to finish packing my backpack tomorrow morning. I’ve booked my room for tomorrow evening near the station in LA and I’m just going to check photos and then go to sleep.
A busy day!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
5 February
After dropping off to sleep, I lasted for an hour before we stopped at just before midnight. We stayed stationary for just over two hours, but after a short move, we were stationary again. We finally moved of in earnest at about 3:30 a.m.
The night was marred by one young woman (I can’t say a lady) who spoke loudly, either complaining about things (not much point in that, we were all in the same train) or talking far too loudly on her mobile phone, complaining to anyone she knew who would listen. There was also one bloke who had too much to drink, but was still drinking. The woman in particular upset everyone in the carriage.
During the night we appeared to stop in Donner Pass for our two hours. Even though it was difficult to see, the starlight and light from the train gave dramatic views of steep-sided rock cuttings absolutely covered in snow.
The full reason for us being late also emerged. Apart from the engine problems (which were solved by putting two Santa Fe / Burlington North locomotives in front of the existing AMTRAK one) and the crew change situation, apparently some rails had cracked because of the extreme cold. This combined with the backup of freight trains made he train up to sixteen hours late.
Because of the delays, everyone was given a complementary breakfast. While having mine I engaged in conversation with two others, but went back to my seat when the conversation began to centre on the experiences both had had in penitentiaries. Not long after everyone had eaten their breakfast, we arrived in Sacramento. It looked quite a large centre, although obviously overshadowed by San Francisco and Los Angeles.
As we left Sacramento, the intensive agriculture became very evident. Market gardening became the predominant use until grazing took over. After Davis, our next stop, gum trees were in clear sight by the train. Unfortunately for me, they were set against the rising sun, so I couldn’t get pictures of them there. Then there were extensive wetlands, fairly obviously used for hunting by the number of decoys visible in the area. To the east there were at least two large windfarms, but because of the distance it was not possible to accurately count the towers there. On the west, an inlet led to views of a variety of shipping, from domestic boats to large bulk carriers and what looked like a car carrier. We stopped at Martinez and had to wait for the east-bound California Zephyr to leave before we could discharge our passengers. After that, it looked like a quick run into Emeryville (the end of the line) at around midday.
And so it was. We arrived at Emeryville on time according to our amended schedule. After a quick look at the literature I booked my trip from Oakland to Los Angeles on Thursday 7 (at last I know what day of the week it is). I also arranged to get on the train to Oakland and arrived there soon after.
However, finding the Visitors Center in Oakland was a mystery worthy of Agatha Christy. Despite being told by many people exactly where it was, it was never there. After ending up in the same place, many times in many different ways (Oakland, get your act together), I gave up and had lunch. I had already decided where I was going to stay and I take it as a badge of honour to find it. So I went out on the BART to Oakland Airport. While trying to decipher how to use and feed the ticket machines, a little old lady who I stepped back for not only told me and showed me, but was going to the same place. Problem solved. At the station, I used the SatNav to tell me how to get there while walking (different directions to driving, but it still warned me to walk on the right!). As all the best laid plans of mice and men gang oft astray, so it happened to me. I knew what the price I was quoted was, and on my leisurely tramp I espied a Days Inn. They had done me good service in Washington, so I decided to ask. Not only was their rate lower and including free high-speed wireless Internet, they also had a free 24 hour shuttle to the BART station (Bay Area Rapid Transit) – interesting as the BART system doesn’t work 24 hours a day.
I signed up, went up, unpacked a little and divested myself of as much as I could to do some serious walking. I went to the shuttle and the last passenger got a hug and a kiss when leaving – I wondered if that was part of the service to all, but was assured it was his girlfriend. At the station I purchased my ticket and was whisked away to the Civic Center / UN Plaza station. Looking like a native of the area (as much as I can with a camera obviously around my neck), I was asked for help twice. Once I could, once I couldn’t. Not too bad for being in the place a few hours.
I walked along Hyde Street – for no other reason than that was the street to the bay from the station. I saw many typical San Francisco dwellings and streetscapes (but did not see the green Mustang driven by a Steve McQueen lookalike). I compared the dwellings with those I had seen in Washington and New York (didn’t see many dwellings in Chicago or Reno) and was amazed to see a Primary Election booth in the garage of a house (it’s the house with the garage visible underneath in my photos). I saw Lombard Street and a line of vehicles driving very slowly down it. While photographing it, I was joined by a girl from Berkley who had never been there either. I went down to the waterfront and walked along that, out onto the breakwater. Alcatraz looked closer than it really is and the bridges’ apparent size showed how far away from them I was. I decided to take a cable car back, as it was quite a long walk and it was well and truly dark. As a matter of policy, I will pursue the policy of not putting myself in places of possible danger in cities I don’t know when I am by myself. At the cable car I took the photo for a couple from Toronto and they took mine (just for you, Phil). They had been here for a few days and were flying out tonight. Our gripman had a sense of humour, made noises at the other gripmen and played tunes while ringing his warning bell. Stopping right in the middle of the intersection to drop and pick up passengers was, well, interesting. At the terminus, I found (by asking a policeman) that the BART station was only a few metres away. I arrived back at the home station at 7:10 and rang, and within five minutes was being brought back. The driver has lived in San Francisco all his life and never been on a cable car – he’s now going to do it so the tourists don’t beat him.
Back in my room I downloaded, named, shrunk and posted all the photos. I called a friend in Benson and confirmed my ETA there. I had a shower and then wrote up this blog, posted it and went to sleep.
A long day – almost the last of this type on my trip, as in Canada I will be in a sleeper continuously on the train (the Canadian) and the Eurostar is a short trip. The rest of the time I will be in a car, except in Japan where I will already have arrangements made for accommodation. The only day remaining like this is when I travel to LA on Thursday.
Now decisions – what do I see tomorrow?
The night was marred by one young woman (I can’t say a lady) who spoke loudly, either complaining about things (not much point in that, we were all in the same train) or talking far too loudly on her mobile phone, complaining to anyone she knew who would listen. There was also one bloke who had too much to drink, but was still drinking. The woman in particular upset everyone in the carriage.
During the night we appeared to stop in Donner Pass for our two hours. Even though it was difficult to see, the starlight and light from the train gave dramatic views of steep-sided rock cuttings absolutely covered in snow.
The full reason for us being late also emerged. Apart from the engine problems (which were solved by putting two Santa Fe / Burlington North locomotives in front of the existing AMTRAK one) and the crew change situation, apparently some rails had cracked because of the extreme cold. This combined with the backup of freight trains made he train up to sixteen hours late.
Because of the delays, everyone was given a complementary breakfast. While having mine I engaged in conversation with two others, but went back to my seat when the conversation began to centre on the experiences both had had in penitentiaries. Not long after everyone had eaten their breakfast, we arrived in Sacramento. It looked quite a large centre, although obviously overshadowed by San Francisco and Los Angeles.
As we left Sacramento, the intensive agriculture became very evident. Market gardening became the predominant use until grazing took over. After Davis, our next stop, gum trees were in clear sight by the train. Unfortunately for me, they were set against the rising sun, so I couldn’t get pictures of them there. Then there were extensive wetlands, fairly obviously used for hunting by the number of decoys visible in the area. To the east there were at least two large windfarms, but because of the distance it was not possible to accurately count the towers there. On the west, an inlet led to views of a variety of shipping, from domestic boats to large bulk carriers and what looked like a car carrier. We stopped at Martinez and had to wait for the east-bound California Zephyr to leave before we could discharge our passengers. After that, it looked like a quick run into Emeryville (the end of the line) at around midday.
And so it was. We arrived at Emeryville on time according to our amended schedule. After a quick look at the literature I booked my trip from Oakland to Los Angeles on Thursday 7 (at last I know what day of the week it is). I also arranged to get on the train to Oakland and arrived there soon after.
However, finding the Visitors Center in Oakland was a mystery worthy of Agatha Christy. Despite being told by many people exactly where it was, it was never there. After ending up in the same place, many times in many different ways (Oakland, get your act together), I gave up and had lunch. I had already decided where I was going to stay and I take it as a badge of honour to find it. So I went out on the BART to Oakland Airport. While trying to decipher how to use and feed the ticket machines, a little old lady who I stepped back for not only told me and showed me, but was going to the same place. Problem solved. At the station, I used the SatNav to tell me how to get there while walking (different directions to driving, but it still warned me to walk on the right!). As all the best laid plans of mice and men gang oft astray, so it happened to me. I knew what the price I was quoted was, and on my leisurely tramp I espied a Days Inn. They had done me good service in Washington, so I decided to ask. Not only was their rate lower and including free high-speed wireless Internet, they also had a free 24 hour shuttle to the BART station (Bay Area Rapid Transit) – interesting as the BART system doesn’t work 24 hours a day.
I signed up, went up, unpacked a little and divested myself of as much as I could to do some serious walking. I went to the shuttle and the last passenger got a hug and a kiss when leaving – I wondered if that was part of the service to all, but was assured it was his girlfriend. At the station I purchased my ticket and was whisked away to the Civic Center / UN Plaza station. Looking like a native of the area (as much as I can with a camera obviously around my neck), I was asked for help twice. Once I could, once I couldn’t. Not too bad for being in the place a few hours.
I walked along Hyde Street – for no other reason than that was the street to the bay from the station. I saw many typical San Francisco dwellings and streetscapes (but did not see the green Mustang driven by a Steve McQueen lookalike). I compared the dwellings with those I had seen in Washington and New York (didn’t see many dwellings in Chicago or Reno) and was amazed to see a Primary Election booth in the garage of a house (it’s the house with the garage visible underneath in my photos). I saw Lombard Street and a line of vehicles driving very slowly down it. While photographing it, I was joined by a girl from Berkley who had never been there either. I went down to the waterfront and walked along that, out onto the breakwater. Alcatraz looked closer than it really is and the bridges’ apparent size showed how far away from them I was. I decided to take a cable car back, as it was quite a long walk and it was well and truly dark. As a matter of policy, I will pursue the policy of not putting myself in places of possible danger in cities I don’t know when I am by myself. At the cable car I took the photo for a couple from Toronto and they took mine (just for you, Phil). They had been here for a few days and were flying out tonight. Our gripman had a sense of humour, made noises at the other gripmen and played tunes while ringing his warning bell. Stopping right in the middle of the intersection to drop and pick up passengers was, well, interesting. At the terminus, I found (by asking a policeman) that the BART station was only a few metres away. I arrived back at the home station at 7:10 and rang, and within five minutes was being brought back. The driver has lived in San Francisco all his life and never been on a cable car – he’s now going to do it so the tourists don’t beat him.
Back in my room I downloaded, named, shrunk and posted all the photos. I called a friend in Benson and confirmed my ETA there. I had a shower and then wrote up this blog, posted it and went to sleep.
A long day – almost the last of this type on my trip, as in Canada I will be in a sleeper continuously on the train (the Canadian) and the Eurostar is a short trip. The rest of the time I will be in a car, except in Japan where I will already have arrangements made for accommodation. The only day remaining like this is when I travel to LA on Thursday.
Now decisions – what do I see tomorrow?
4 February
An interesting day dawned. The alarm went off, but I couldn’t find it. Eventually I did, under a book. The two had slid off the bed during the night. I got myself ready to face the day, then went to the AMTRAK station to see what the news was. We had been told that we could check back at 7, but even by 7:30 there was no sign of life inside, but plenty outside. A queue (funny about that) had formed outside with members discussing the various shortcomings of AMTRAK and customer service. Finally at about 7:40 the doors opened (but from the other end to the queue, so the system was mucked up before it started).
The assistant made an announcement: “There will be a bus leaving at 7:55. It is nearly fully booked already – it may look empty but there are reservations from people along the way. Some of you may be able to get onto it. There will be special buses leaving at about 10. One will go to Sacramento. It will stop at points along the way. The other two buses will take passengers to points beyond there.” I asked about the train and was told I could get on, but it was 11 hours late and not due until 6. In one way I hope it gets further delayed (or makes up a lot of time) so I can see this famous pass in light.
I returned to my hotel and put the next part of my plan into action. Souvenirs and brochures, by now somewhat heavy and bulky, were to be posted to Fran, so she could get the souvenirs for herself and the boys out and see other things I had collected. I put them all together, removing cards which bore the names and addresses of those I would contact while travelling. I headed off to the Post Office, a four storey imposing building – with ONE clerk on duty. We worked out the cheapest way to send them, so I managed to get them into the parcel size and then stood in line again to actually post it. Here I met my first “conspiracy theorist” – she was convinced the government was reading all her mail, checking all she spent and generally trying to maintain surveillance while also trying to drive her mad. I didn’t know what to say, so I just ummed and ahhed non-committally. When I put in the address tag (because I couldn’t list an address here and it seemed pointless to have the US Post Office deal with me when I wasn’t at home), I went to show my passport to explain why I couldn’t put an address and also to establish my bona fides – but it was not required. At a cost of $37, it was far better than trying to carry all these T-shirts (except the one I had to wear in Chicago) and brochures and maps around and then having to pay excess baggage charges when flying (or buying another bag to put everything into). I wandered back to the hotel, but called into a casino to have breakfast. I accidentally chose the same place as I had my meal the night before. The same cook was on, but changing over. The new cook took my order and chatted to me (business was quiet). He had been to Perth (with the USMC, on exercises) years ago, and had worked in many places around the US. The linguistic variety of the states amazes me and he made it more interesting by not only describing but also using the different words and accents. I found that Boston, Washington and St Louis were the only self-governing cities in the US. I also found that even hamburgers are different depending upon where in the US you buy them (McDonalds and Burger King not withstanding).
I finally got back to my hotel to find I was missing a glove. Considering all I have with me and the times I have had to put things down and pick them up, I don’t consider that too bad. I will get a new pair of gloves when I am in the car – the shopping list grows.
So far I have to – look at a SuperWalMart; find what biscuits are equivalent to what I would have at home (after describing Teddy Bears, Tim Tams and others, I fond myself really missing them, even though I wouldn’t normally have eaten them); buy good and warm gloves; get some soap powder (as the washing is high on the list, having only about five more days changes left) and then find a Laundromat; get some bread, toast it and have real toast and vegemite; get some more postcards to send to people at home (I’ve got two ready, but I now have to find a place to post them and the blue US Post Office letter receivers are not as easy to see as red ones (nor as plentiful)) and look at what real prices are because I’ve only travelled in the centres of cities where the cost of living is never cheap.
Some observations are:
no dual-flush toilets – little idea of water-saving;
seen many places with shingles (the little wooden tiles on roofs, not the painful nerve disease);
cars in snow-bound areas have a lot of damage;
most people are very polite and courteous.
Some differences are that:
service personnel are not treated equal by customers and do not have an egalitarian attitude to their customers;
there are an incredible number of people doing menial jobs;
AMTRAK is starved of funds and cannot do its job properly (but then I was told that if it does its job properly and makes money, it has to be sold as the US government is committed to not running successful enterprises against free enterprise);
people are publicly tolerant of bad service but privately intolerant;
married people refer to their spouses as “she” or “he” despite the fact they are sitting next to them, rather than by their name;
so far people in public places have been incredibly honest in relation to other people’s property.
At not long after 11:30 the waiting room was completely empty and the last bus was due to leave. Rick had gone on the bus as, at the moment, it looks as though our travel through the Sierras will be in darkness. This large public space is heated to a comfortable 20°C with only me in it (it holds forty seated and would comfortably accommodate up to 200). What a waste of energy! Other public spaces are heated to at least as much, and employees work in their shirtsleeves, while the public disrobe after entering and robe again before leaving (so outside feels colder than it really is).
I managed to write three letters to post (you know, using a writing implement on a smooth thin white sheet called paper, then placed in a folded and glued larger piece of paper and again written on and having a small adhesive piece of very expensive paper called a stamp put in the corner) and finished them by about 2, with minor interruptions of showing people where the toilets (whoops, restrooms) were and a toddler being shown trains by his nanna. For variety, I went downstairs to the other waiting room which was warmer (I would have said too warm). After a few minutes, some ladies going east (I’m the only one going west) looked after my luggage and I walked to the Post Office and posted the letters. Now, at 3:40, I’m entering my second phase of waiting.
As an aside, I really do enjoy writing real letters. The only problem is they take a lot of time and only one at a time can receive them. But the sheer pleasure of knowing that you have enriched the life of another (unless they take one look at the letter and scrunch it up and put it into the rubbish) is worth it. Which is aesthetically more pleasing – scrunching or pressing the delete button?
There have been more freight trains through, although one is standing in the station at the moment. The line must be clear, but the backlog of traffic will take some time to clear. In this waiting room, level with the tracks (no platforms here), were are about 30 feet below street level, so I can’t even hope to find an open wireless network to see if I can hitch a ride on it.
I listened to the iPod for a little time but then got engaged in discussion about Australia with the lady who had offered to keep an eye on my luggage. I showed her a range of photos and then the others joined in. The east-bound train (Number 6) arrived in at 5:30 and so my temporary companions left. I was only in solitary for a few moments as others had arrived and I started talking with them. It was a family group including a grandfather who had been given the trip as a Christmas present. We chatted away on a variety of topics until Niel and Patricia, the sports people from yesterday, arrived. The conversation became more interesting and intense and the time melted away until at about 10:40 the train finally arrived. We were fooled because it was being drawn by a freight locomotive. The delays were from cumulative delays due to freight, engine problems, a different engine being substituted and the crew being out of shift time and the changeover crew having to drive from Reno down to Sparks. I got on to the coach cars (apparently I should have rebooked, but the station staff just said to use the same ticket), and after finishing writing this up, I went to the lounge car and then finally to sleep.
The assistant made an announcement: “There will be a bus leaving at 7:55. It is nearly fully booked already – it may look empty but there are reservations from people along the way. Some of you may be able to get onto it. There will be special buses leaving at about 10. One will go to Sacramento. It will stop at points along the way. The other two buses will take passengers to points beyond there.” I asked about the train and was told I could get on, but it was 11 hours late and not due until 6. In one way I hope it gets further delayed (or makes up a lot of time) so I can see this famous pass in light.
I returned to my hotel and put the next part of my plan into action. Souvenirs and brochures, by now somewhat heavy and bulky, were to be posted to Fran, so she could get the souvenirs for herself and the boys out and see other things I had collected. I put them all together, removing cards which bore the names and addresses of those I would contact while travelling. I headed off to the Post Office, a four storey imposing building – with ONE clerk on duty. We worked out the cheapest way to send them, so I managed to get them into the parcel size and then stood in line again to actually post it. Here I met my first “conspiracy theorist” – she was convinced the government was reading all her mail, checking all she spent and generally trying to maintain surveillance while also trying to drive her mad. I didn’t know what to say, so I just ummed and ahhed non-committally. When I put in the address tag (because I couldn’t list an address here and it seemed pointless to have the US Post Office deal with me when I wasn’t at home), I went to show my passport to explain why I couldn’t put an address and also to establish my bona fides – but it was not required. At a cost of $37, it was far better than trying to carry all these T-shirts (except the one I had to wear in Chicago) and brochures and maps around and then having to pay excess baggage charges when flying (or buying another bag to put everything into). I wandered back to the hotel, but called into a casino to have breakfast. I accidentally chose the same place as I had my meal the night before. The same cook was on, but changing over. The new cook took my order and chatted to me (business was quiet). He had been to Perth (with the USMC, on exercises) years ago, and had worked in many places around the US. The linguistic variety of the states amazes me and he made it more interesting by not only describing but also using the different words and accents. I found that Boston, Washington and St Louis were the only self-governing cities in the US. I also found that even hamburgers are different depending upon where in the US you buy them (McDonalds and Burger King not withstanding).
I finally got back to my hotel to find I was missing a glove. Considering all I have with me and the times I have had to put things down and pick them up, I don’t consider that too bad. I will get a new pair of gloves when I am in the car – the shopping list grows.
So far I have to – look at a SuperWalMart; find what biscuits are equivalent to what I would have at home (after describing Teddy Bears, Tim Tams and others, I fond myself really missing them, even though I wouldn’t normally have eaten them); buy good and warm gloves; get some soap powder (as the washing is high on the list, having only about five more days changes left) and then find a Laundromat; get some bread, toast it and have real toast and vegemite; get some more postcards to send to people at home (I’ve got two ready, but I now have to find a place to post them and the blue US Post Office letter receivers are not as easy to see as red ones (nor as plentiful)) and look at what real prices are because I’ve only travelled in the centres of cities where the cost of living is never cheap.
Some observations are:
no dual-flush toilets – little idea of water-saving;
seen many places with shingles (the little wooden tiles on roofs, not the painful nerve disease);
cars in snow-bound areas have a lot of damage;
most people are very polite and courteous.
Some differences are that:
service personnel are not treated equal by customers and do not have an egalitarian attitude to their customers;
there are an incredible number of people doing menial jobs;
AMTRAK is starved of funds and cannot do its job properly (but then I was told that if it does its job properly and makes money, it has to be sold as the US government is committed to not running successful enterprises against free enterprise);
people are publicly tolerant of bad service but privately intolerant;
married people refer to their spouses as “she” or “he” despite the fact they are sitting next to them, rather than by their name;
so far people in public places have been incredibly honest in relation to other people’s property.
At not long after 11:30 the waiting room was completely empty and the last bus was due to leave. Rick had gone on the bus as, at the moment, it looks as though our travel through the Sierras will be in darkness. This large public space is heated to a comfortable 20°C with only me in it (it holds forty seated and would comfortably accommodate up to 200). What a waste of energy! Other public spaces are heated to at least as much, and employees work in their shirtsleeves, while the public disrobe after entering and robe again before leaving (so outside feels colder than it really is).
I managed to write three letters to post (you know, using a writing implement on a smooth thin white sheet called paper, then placed in a folded and glued larger piece of paper and again written on and having a small adhesive piece of very expensive paper called a stamp put in the corner) and finished them by about 2, with minor interruptions of showing people where the toilets (whoops, restrooms) were and a toddler being shown trains by his nanna. For variety, I went downstairs to the other waiting room which was warmer (I would have said too warm). After a few minutes, some ladies going east (I’m the only one going west) looked after my luggage and I walked to the Post Office and posted the letters. Now, at 3:40, I’m entering my second phase of waiting.
As an aside, I really do enjoy writing real letters. The only problem is they take a lot of time and only one at a time can receive them. But the sheer pleasure of knowing that you have enriched the life of another (unless they take one look at the letter and scrunch it up and put it into the rubbish) is worth it. Which is aesthetically more pleasing – scrunching or pressing the delete button?
There have been more freight trains through, although one is standing in the station at the moment. The line must be clear, but the backlog of traffic will take some time to clear. In this waiting room, level with the tracks (no platforms here), were are about 30 feet below street level, so I can’t even hope to find an open wireless network to see if I can hitch a ride on it.
I listened to the iPod for a little time but then got engaged in discussion about Australia with the lady who had offered to keep an eye on my luggage. I showed her a range of photos and then the others joined in. The east-bound train (Number 6) arrived in at 5:30 and so my temporary companions left. I was only in solitary for a few moments as others had arrived and I started talking with them. It was a family group including a grandfather who had been given the trip as a Christmas present. We chatted away on a variety of topics until Niel and Patricia, the sports people from yesterday, arrived. The conversation became more interesting and intense and the time melted away until at about 10:40 the train finally arrived. We were fooled because it was being drawn by a freight locomotive. The delays were from cumulative delays due to freight, engine problems, a different engine being substituted and the crew being out of shift time and the changeover crew having to drive from Reno down to Sparks. I got on to the coach cars (apparently I should have rebooked, but the station staff just said to use the same ticket), and after finishing writing this up, I went to the lounge car and then finally to sleep.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
3 February
Today was different.
After waking, having a shower and dressing, I engaged in conversation with a lady from Louisville KY. She had been born in Maine, but lived most of her life n Kentucky. I then had breakfast with her and her husband (an FM radio engineer, going to Sacramento). Later, Ron, the Insurance liability worker, came down too. During the first hour there was a constant snowfall, but after that the sun came out and it looked a beautiful day. We had stopped at Ecko not long after 6 and at Wannacca not long after 9.
An announcement came over. The Donner Pass was closed to rail traffic (14 ft snowdrifts, blizzards, and more to come) and I-80 was closed to road traffic. We would terminate at Reno and be put up in a hotel there, and go through by whichever method we were able to as soon as we could.
My thought turned to the way I could open today’s blog (or should it be an SMS to my sister?). “Train snowed in – stopped by 14 ft snowdrifts and now trapped by blizzards. Now need to worry – other passengers look delicious!”
We chatted over breakfast a lot longer than normal and Dan, (this was the one moving to Portland OR and then Albuquerque NM, not any of the others, including the FM engineer – a veritable surfeit of Dans). On my way out I got waylaid by Donna and hubby and another couple from Chicago (who wanted to move to Australia with sport in the late 70s). After discussing regional language differences and having a great laugh over the language children use, I went back and packed up my bag(s) so I would be ready to go at Reno. Of course I didn’t have the telephone number of the place I was supposed to stay in but after, having packed (and found my luggage needed either repair or replacement), I went down to the observation car, set myself up and checked the number on the laptop. The train is travelling between 60 and 80 miles per hour. The sky continued to clear and the surrounding countryside (salt plains and low spindly grasses) reminded me very much of some parts of country Australia. I said so and Rick asked if I was homesick – and the simple answer is no. I am too busy and am meeting so many interesting people for me to be homesick. The only thing I am missing is not being able to download my pictures and my blog each evening. Another bloke came over, interested to see my SatNav in action. I got a root beer to drink and Reggie (our sleeping car attendant) came up to tell me it was only 40 minutes to Reno. After a little more chat, I went back to make sure I had cleaned out the cabin (yes), got my bags ready (yes) and cleaned any rubbish up (yes). I sat down but it was only a few minutes before we were into Reno. Everyone trundled up to the ticket office and spoke to Jan, who gave us a chit for the Harrah Hotel for the night and then told us of the arrangements for tomorrow (two scheduled buses – nearly booked out, the train – which may not run, but nearly booked out anyway if it does run, a special bus to take most of the passengers – which also is dependent on weather). We wended our way over and I got room 1263. After unpacking, I tried out the Internet (a cost option – Amtrak only pay for the room) and then went for a walk around Reno – the biggest little city. Being Sunday, a lot of things were closed so I took some photos and then found somewhere to have a meal (in a casino – cheap, but not the cheapest I have seen). Really, Reno looked like a lot of gambling places – great appearance but nothing behind it. Today is the Superbowl, so I decided just to go up, write a little, get photos up-to-date and relax in a bed that wasn’t moving (and wasn’t costing me, although the reservations I had already made for Oakland I had to cancel because absolutely nothing was moving out of Reno, for today at least. The hotel room was nothing to write home about, so I won’t.
After waking, having a shower and dressing, I engaged in conversation with a lady from Louisville KY. She had been born in Maine, but lived most of her life n Kentucky. I then had breakfast with her and her husband (an FM radio engineer, going to Sacramento). Later, Ron, the Insurance liability worker, came down too. During the first hour there was a constant snowfall, but after that the sun came out and it looked a beautiful day. We had stopped at Ecko not long after 6 and at Wannacca not long after 9.
An announcement came over. The Donner Pass was closed to rail traffic (14 ft snowdrifts, blizzards, and more to come) and I-80 was closed to road traffic. We would terminate at Reno and be put up in a hotel there, and go through by whichever method we were able to as soon as we could.
My thought turned to the way I could open today’s blog (or should it be an SMS to my sister?). “Train snowed in – stopped by 14 ft snowdrifts and now trapped by blizzards. Now need to worry – other passengers look delicious!”
We chatted over breakfast a lot longer than normal and Dan, (this was the one moving to Portland OR and then Albuquerque NM, not any of the others, including the FM engineer – a veritable surfeit of Dans). On my way out I got waylaid by Donna and hubby and another couple from Chicago (who wanted to move to Australia with sport in the late 70s). After discussing regional language differences and having a great laugh over the language children use, I went back and packed up my bag(s) so I would be ready to go at Reno. Of course I didn’t have the telephone number of the place I was supposed to stay in but after, having packed (and found my luggage needed either repair or replacement), I went down to the observation car, set myself up and checked the number on the laptop. The train is travelling between 60 and 80 miles per hour. The sky continued to clear and the surrounding countryside (salt plains and low spindly grasses) reminded me very much of some parts of country Australia. I said so and Rick asked if I was homesick – and the simple answer is no. I am too busy and am meeting so many interesting people for me to be homesick. The only thing I am missing is not being able to download my pictures and my blog each evening. Another bloke came over, interested to see my SatNav in action. I got a root beer to drink and Reggie (our sleeping car attendant) came up to tell me it was only 40 minutes to Reno. After a little more chat, I went back to make sure I had cleaned out the cabin (yes), got my bags ready (yes) and cleaned any rubbish up (yes). I sat down but it was only a few minutes before we were into Reno. Everyone trundled up to the ticket office and spoke to Jan, who gave us a chit for the Harrah Hotel for the night and then told us of the arrangements for tomorrow (two scheduled buses – nearly booked out, the train – which may not run, but nearly booked out anyway if it does run, a special bus to take most of the passengers – which also is dependent on weather). We wended our way over and I got room 1263. After unpacking, I tried out the Internet (a cost option – Amtrak only pay for the room) and then went for a walk around Reno – the biggest little city. Being Sunday, a lot of things were closed so I took some photos and then found somewhere to have a meal (in a casino – cheap, but not the cheapest I have seen). Really, Reno looked like a lot of gambling places – great appearance but nothing behind it. Today is the Superbowl, so I decided just to go up, write a little, get photos up-to-date and relax in a bed that wasn’t moving (and wasn’t costing me, although the reservations I had already made for Oakland I had to cancel because absolutely nothing was moving out of Reno, for today at least. The hotel room was nothing to write home about, so I won’t.
2 February
I woke at 6 Central Time – but we are now on Rocky Mountain time, so it was really only 5. After a few minutes of looking to the window and seeing nothing (common in the middle of nowhere with no lighting), I got up and cleaned my boots. They weren’t looking too good after snow walking and then drying out. They looked a lot better after. I got ready to have a shower, but the shower got taken just before I got there, so I had to wait. The showers are larger than on Australian trains, but in most sleeper accommodation there is only one per carriage.
After showering and dressing, it was up and along to have breakfast. My roomette is on the lower level and the dining room is on the upper level (the galley is down below). I joined Ceal for breakfast and she was looking up the delays on her blackberry. A large snowplough on the tracks had fallen, and smaller ploughs had to be sent out to clear the tracks, and the large snowplough had to be recovered. The two California Zephyrs (one eastbound and one westbound) were waiting.
We chatted about things to see in the US and were later joined by another lady who added in to see a museum on the River in Du Berque Iowa. Then, just before I left, we were joined by a gentleman who got photos of all his dining companions.
I went down to my berth and collected laptop, GPS, SatNav and camera. Here it was pointed out that my mobile phone had been making noises – my next-berth companions thought it was calls, but it was the alarm. I must remember to switch it off after I leave, especially if I leave it charging. I went to the observation car, to get a good view of what was happening but also to check that the SatNav was working okay in the US. Here I set everything up, connecting the SatNav to the laptop for power. All worked! The train was travelling at around 70 miles per hour (imperial units while in the US) and I could get the surrounding roads and streets. I chatted to a construction worker who knew about Holdens, so I showed him pictures of DOUG. After a discussion on different construction methods, we parted as he was leaving the train at Denver. We arrived in Denver not long after 9 and I went outside to have a look but it was too cool, so I went inside and gave Velma a call. We had a short chat, but the essential point was that I would miss her and Patrick. I was able to briefly log onto a wireless network and send and receive a few emails, but not long enough to post photos or a blog.
The train pulled out about 9:20 and I settled down to observe the scenery. Both Dan and Rick had told me to be ready to get good sights and photos on the northern side of the train. I was following our progress on both devices and soon was seeing the Rockies. I took plenty of photos (but I’m still not sure how they came out). During this time I chatted with Donna’s husband, who was most surprised that I knew his history; spoke with two girls who had completed a modelling assignment in Denver but couldn’t get back to Grand Junction because the roads had been closed, so were coming by train; heard about the travails of another traveller at the far end of the carriage; found out some more of the sights to see from both Rick and Dan (and met Lulu, who was travelling with Rick) and chatted to some others.
The scenery was magnificent – changing all the time, as we climbed and were hanging on the sides of the mountains. I was busy watching.
I had a late lunch with Dan and furthered our chat about casinos, travelling and Australia.
In the afternoon the weather became overcast and soon snow flurries took away most visibility. Very soon it started to become dark and I went back to my berth to transfer pictures over from yesterday and today, catch up with today’s (abbreviated) blog and get ready for tea at 7:15.
Tea was with Dan and our waitress Kathleen. It stretched out until after 10, so after that it was straight back and to bed.
After showering and dressing, it was up and along to have breakfast. My roomette is on the lower level and the dining room is on the upper level (the galley is down below). I joined Ceal for breakfast and she was looking up the delays on her blackberry. A large snowplough on the tracks had fallen, and smaller ploughs had to be sent out to clear the tracks, and the large snowplough had to be recovered. The two California Zephyrs (one eastbound and one westbound) were waiting.
We chatted about things to see in the US and were later joined by another lady who added in to see a museum on the River in Du Berque Iowa. Then, just before I left, we were joined by a gentleman who got photos of all his dining companions.
I went down to my berth and collected laptop, GPS, SatNav and camera. Here it was pointed out that my mobile phone had been making noises – my next-berth companions thought it was calls, but it was the alarm. I must remember to switch it off after I leave, especially if I leave it charging. I went to the observation car, to get a good view of what was happening but also to check that the SatNav was working okay in the US. Here I set everything up, connecting the SatNav to the laptop for power. All worked! The train was travelling at around 70 miles per hour (imperial units while in the US) and I could get the surrounding roads and streets. I chatted to a construction worker who knew about Holdens, so I showed him pictures of DOUG. After a discussion on different construction methods, we parted as he was leaving the train at Denver. We arrived in Denver not long after 9 and I went outside to have a look but it was too cool, so I went inside and gave Velma a call. We had a short chat, but the essential point was that I would miss her and Patrick. I was able to briefly log onto a wireless network and send and receive a few emails, but not long enough to post photos or a blog.
The train pulled out about 9:20 and I settled down to observe the scenery. Both Dan and Rick had told me to be ready to get good sights and photos on the northern side of the train. I was following our progress on both devices and soon was seeing the Rockies. I took plenty of photos (but I’m still not sure how they came out). During this time I chatted with Donna’s husband, who was most surprised that I knew his history; spoke with two girls who had completed a modelling assignment in Denver but couldn’t get back to Grand Junction because the roads had been closed, so were coming by train; heard about the travails of another traveller at the far end of the carriage; found out some more of the sights to see from both Rick and Dan (and met Lulu, who was travelling with Rick) and chatted to some others.
The scenery was magnificent – changing all the time, as we climbed and were hanging on the sides of the mountains. I was busy watching.
I had a late lunch with Dan and furthered our chat about casinos, travelling and Australia.
In the afternoon the weather became overcast and soon snow flurries took away most visibility. Very soon it started to become dark and I went back to my berth to transfer pictures over from yesterday and today, catch up with today’s (abbreviated) blog and get ready for tea at 7:15.
Tea was with Dan and our waitress Kathleen. It stretched out until after 10, so after that it was straight back and to bed.
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.
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.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
31 January
Today started out really well. The room was warm and the bed very comfortable and the alarm woke me (because I had set it) at 7:30. After showering and dressing, I was off about 8.
I walked along Michigan Avenue north until I got to the river – there I really did notice the four buildings, one on each corner, about the same height but in very different styles. While walking along, I found walking in the bare sidewalk okay, the slush okay but occasionally difficult, the tramped snow sometimes difficult, but fresh snow very difficult. I can understand why some shoes have tread patterns deeper than the lugged tyres on four-wheel-drives – that would have made it easy (except then I would have to carry three pairs of shoes). I arrived at the Hancock Building just after 9 – not because it was so far, but because I was looking around. I went straight up ti the observatory there. Unlike the Empire State Building, it was totally glassed in. The temperature was very pleasant, but visibility was only a mile or so. Still, I could see the lake (Lake Michigan) and the general layout of the city and get my bearings. It was well worth it.
When I got down it was starting to snow. One chap was having a cigarette in shirtsleeves. I asked him if he was cold and he said he was from Minnesota. He assumed that I would understand, but I don’t know whether that meant he was from a cold place (and this felt warm) or whether it was like Tasmanians for us and, “where there’s no sense … “ so I’ll have to wait for an explanatory note from someone else.
On the way up I had seen a place called the Tribune Liberty Museum. I went in there and saw a display about the change in rights (and responsibilities) of US citizens and also the pesidential election process. I got my token to vote in their poll, so I have voted for someone who may become the next US president – I’ll find out in November! It also brought me back because there was a school group touring through, and I was trying to understand one student who wanted to ask me questions about Australia, but another had to translate – some have too thick a Chicago accent!
I took my photographs of the buildings and also the Trump Tower, which although still under construction, has tenants in the hotel section already.
I then set out to participate in Bart’s tour. I did the Cultural centre, which is a magnificent building hiding from the public. Not only does it have a lot of information, it has displays and is a sight to see in its own right. I spent a lot of time seeing the displays of art there. Then I thought I had beeter see the Sears Tower. I grabbed a quick lunch in the Richardson Centre (and spoke to some police there and had some questions answered – they do patrol on Segways, but the batteries cut out without warning in cold weather, they get a lot of questions about where the Blues Brothers movie was shot – I got a picture in there, but Jake and Elroy weren’t waiting for the elevator) and made it to the Sears Tower just as total cloud cover set in. I couldn’t resist going up anyway, saw the movie on its making (you don’t have a choice) and got an attendant up there to take a photo of me. I did take one photo, but you can’t see anything but cloud in it. At the foot, while talking to the attendants there (I think I should work freelance for the Australian Tourism Commission), I heard another Aussie and he heard me. As he was spending four days in Chicago, he decided to try later (to see something). He then asked where his hotel was (okay, he knew where it was but he needed to know how to get there) and the attendants told him to get a cab or something, but I had just walked from nearly twice as far away (it was just over a mile). I now know why there are so few pedestrians – they either hop a cab or public transport, or drive, but walking more than a few blocks is anathema to many. Given the snow and cold, I can understand why, but without luggage it isn’t a problem for most of us. I also found out that the sidewalks outside the Sears Building are heated (so there is no snow there), that many buildings and the city employ people to shovel snow off the sidewalks (and into the gutters, so cars grind it up and splash it back over people silly enough to walk!). I saw my first gritter and also a small tractor clearing snow on a plaza area.
After that I went off to the Washington Library. Bart had added this as almost an afterthought, but in fact by the time I had had a quick look through, seen the exhibits on the ninth floor, asked and answered the questions of a security guard there and then dropped in to look at the Talking Books section (where I ended up in conversation with two assistants AND the chief and gave them my email so they could see how they featured in this blog – Hi girls! – and they could see my pictures of Australia), I had run out of time for the day. I will do the Ars Centre and the lobby of the Architecture Building tomorrow, but I must put on record (in case you look) that your map was very useful but the time line was waaaaay out, so thanks, Bart.
I walked back through the snow, with forecasts of feet of snow overnight and tomorrow morning, to my hotel – the walk was shorter than I thought but still long enough. My poor camera got coated with snow because, with so much that I have to keep on me, there isn’t room under my jacket for it.
Some current observations:
public buildings being warm, many people seem to go in for shelter from the cold, but if they weren’t quite so hot, the heating bill would be less, fewer would shelter inside and outside wouldn’t seem so cold.
commercial areas have restricted access to toilets, but in some public buildings, the toilets are unrestricted access and far better maintained.
people look to the pavement rather than in front when walking along not because they are rude or ignorant of others, but to cut out the wind and snow from hitting them in the face and mouth.
most Americans love the feel and look of Australian money and see the sense of having different sizes and colours of notes (bills).
it’s a good job there is a visa waiver program because most Americans would love to visit Australia.
most Americans only know of Paul Hogan and Steve Irwin and have no idea of the size or population of Australia (it’s nearly the same as the continental US, with gaps where Washington state and Texas would be, and around 21 million).
people in Chicago go on merry-go-rounds, not carousels, and what we see on TV as “American” is as accurate as what overseas people think of Australia from Crocodile Dundee, Steve Irwin or the soaps (Home and Away, and Neighbours).
Hopefully I can get another early night and, after a morning look around the last of “Bart’s Tour” I shall be on the Californian Zephyr before 3 and go through Denver (and miss seeing Velma, my cousin, there, though I have spoken to her and her prospective husband) on my way to San Francisco!
I walked along Michigan Avenue north until I got to the river – there I really did notice the four buildings, one on each corner, about the same height but in very different styles. While walking along, I found walking in the bare sidewalk okay, the slush okay but occasionally difficult, the tramped snow sometimes difficult, but fresh snow very difficult. I can understand why some shoes have tread patterns deeper than the lugged tyres on four-wheel-drives – that would have made it easy (except then I would have to carry three pairs of shoes). I arrived at the Hancock Building just after 9 – not because it was so far, but because I was looking around. I went straight up ti the observatory there. Unlike the Empire State Building, it was totally glassed in. The temperature was very pleasant, but visibility was only a mile or so. Still, I could see the lake (Lake Michigan) and the general layout of the city and get my bearings. It was well worth it.
When I got down it was starting to snow. One chap was having a cigarette in shirtsleeves. I asked him if he was cold and he said he was from Minnesota. He assumed that I would understand, but I don’t know whether that meant he was from a cold place (and this felt warm) or whether it was like Tasmanians for us and, “where there’s no sense … “ so I’ll have to wait for an explanatory note from someone else.
On the way up I had seen a place called the Tribune Liberty Museum. I went in there and saw a display about the change in rights (and responsibilities) of US citizens and also the pesidential election process. I got my token to vote in their poll, so I have voted for someone who may become the next US president – I’ll find out in November! It also brought me back because there was a school group touring through, and I was trying to understand one student who wanted to ask me questions about Australia, but another had to translate – some have too thick a Chicago accent!
I took my photographs of the buildings and also the Trump Tower, which although still under construction, has tenants in the hotel section already.
I then set out to participate in Bart’s tour. I did the Cultural centre, which is a magnificent building hiding from the public. Not only does it have a lot of information, it has displays and is a sight to see in its own right. I spent a lot of time seeing the displays of art there. Then I thought I had beeter see the Sears Tower. I grabbed a quick lunch in the Richardson Centre (and spoke to some police there and had some questions answered – they do patrol on Segways, but the batteries cut out without warning in cold weather, they get a lot of questions about where the Blues Brothers movie was shot – I got a picture in there, but Jake and Elroy weren’t waiting for the elevator) and made it to the Sears Tower just as total cloud cover set in. I couldn’t resist going up anyway, saw the movie on its making (you don’t have a choice) and got an attendant up there to take a photo of me. I did take one photo, but you can’t see anything but cloud in it. At the foot, while talking to the attendants there (I think I should work freelance for the Australian Tourism Commission), I heard another Aussie and he heard me. As he was spending four days in Chicago, he decided to try later (to see something). He then asked where his hotel was (okay, he knew where it was but he needed to know how to get there) and the attendants told him to get a cab or something, but I had just walked from nearly twice as far away (it was just over a mile). I now know why there are so few pedestrians – they either hop a cab or public transport, or drive, but walking more than a few blocks is anathema to many. Given the snow and cold, I can understand why, but without luggage it isn’t a problem for most of us. I also found out that the sidewalks outside the Sears Building are heated (so there is no snow there), that many buildings and the city employ people to shovel snow off the sidewalks (and into the gutters, so cars grind it up and splash it back over people silly enough to walk!). I saw my first gritter and also a small tractor clearing snow on a plaza area.
After that I went off to the Washington Library. Bart had added this as almost an afterthought, but in fact by the time I had had a quick look through, seen the exhibits on the ninth floor, asked and answered the questions of a security guard there and then dropped in to look at the Talking Books section (where I ended up in conversation with two assistants AND the chief and gave them my email so they could see how they featured in this blog – Hi girls! – and they could see my pictures of Australia), I had run out of time for the day. I will do the Ars Centre and the lobby of the Architecture Building tomorrow, but I must put on record (in case you look) that your map was very useful but the time line was waaaaay out, so thanks, Bart.
I walked back through the snow, with forecasts of feet of snow overnight and tomorrow morning, to my hotel – the walk was shorter than I thought but still long enough. My poor camera got coated with snow because, with so much that I have to keep on me, there isn’t room under my jacket for it.
Some current observations:
public buildings being warm, many people seem to go in for shelter from the cold, but if they weren’t quite so hot, the heating bill would be less, fewer would shelter inside and outside wouldn’t seem so cold.
commercial areas have restricted access to toilets, but in some public buildings, the toilets are unrestricted access and far better maintained.
people look to the pavement rather than in front when walking along not because they are rude or ignorant of others, but to cut out the wind and snow from hitting them in the face and mouth.
most Americans love the feel and look of Australian money and see the sense of having different sizes and colours of notes (bills).
it’s a good job there is a visa waiver program because most Americans would love to visit Australia.
most Americans only know of Paul Hogan and Steve Irwin and have no idea of the size or population of Australia (it’s nearly the same as the continental US, with gaps where Washington state and Texas would be, and around 21 million).
people in Chicago go on merry-go-rounds, not carousels, and what we see on TV as “American” is as accurate as what overseas people think of Australia from Crocodile Dundee, Steve Irwin or the soaps (Home and Away, and Neighbours).
Hopefully I can get another early night and, after a morning look around the last of “Bart’s Tour” I shall be on the Californian Zephyr before 3 and go through Denver (and miss seeing Velma, my cousin, there, though I have spoken to her and her prospective husband) on my way to San Francisco!
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