The Southern Crescent, New York City, finally, Boston and a Note...

Sunday, January 17, 2010, New Orleans, LA 7:05am: After two glorious and far-too-short days in New Orleans we board Amtrak's Southern Crescent for the 32 hour run to New York City. I had mixed feelings about this segment because the old Crescent operated by the Southern Railway was the first train I ever rode as a 7^th grader going to Washington and New York on a school trip and because we had run into other travelers on this trip who had recently rode the entire segment and described the train as 'horrible'.

Information about Amtrak's Crescent

Nothing could have been further from the truth. This train has a long history of service and pride in it's famous train crews and the level of service they provided. Those pictures you often see of white jacketed African American 'Pullman Porters' and dining car waiters and waitresses were most likely crews from the Crescent. At a time when the highest rank a blue-collar black man could achieve was a job as a Pullman Porter, the Crescent crews were the pinnacle of gracious service proudly offering the very best in Southern Hospitality. The Southern operated hotels along it's route were where travelers could extend that hospitality into a few days stay. Even as late as the 1980's some of these hotels still operated in places like Roanoke, Virginia, for example, where very tired waiters still dressed in the traditional starched white jacket and made feeble attempts to keep that tradition alive. Some of these grand old hotels still rank as some of the finest resort hotels in the World such as the Homestead Hotel in Virginia and Greenbrier resort in West Virginia both at one time owned and operated by the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad.

Updated to a contemporary version of service and hospitality, the train crew on the Crescent did their ancestors proud. Great rolling stock, clean, friendly, excellent food (Our cook had been working on the train 22 years and still prepared New Orleans style meals from scratch each night), service s till prevailed with a smile. It was a pleasure to be back on the Crescent for our last night on the rails.

The modern version of the Crescent consist of two sleeper cars at the rear of the train preceded by the dining car and the cafe car, then the coach cars, baggage cars and engine. This is an especially nice consist as it separates the sleepers completely from the coaches so the sleepers get their food services from the Dining Car and the Coaches get theirs from the cafe car. On some trains the consist has been such that we had to pass through Coaches to reach the dining or Cafe Cars and having dining right next door is so convenient.

The train pulled out of New Orlean's Union Station at 7:05 am on the dot. Union Station is a late 60's Station which was built with style and grace which was not common in 60's architecture. The station has been maintained and not remuddled so it still says, “Welcome, you are in a different place...Relax, and enjoy yourself...” it shares the space with the Greyhound bus depot but has not become tawdry as both train and bus service have declined.

The Crescent makes a diagonal swatch across the South crossing Lake Pontchartrain, then through swamps and fields of Louisiana and Mississippi in many places still showing the old tenant farmer houses I remember seeing in these same towns as a young person. However, now in many places neat towns are stops on the track where pride in the Town and neighborhood have succeeded where economic growth has not. As the afternoon passes soft rain and a dull-gray sky quickly darken the day through the tinted windows of the train. But we can still make out roads of the famous red-clay, which became a major character in the movie, 'My Cousin Vinnie'. With even the thinnest layer of rain, the stuff out our window would have the slipperiness of water on ice. Unless you were a native, walking on it would have been impossible...or would have left you stranded in the middle of the road begging for mommie! Passing through woods and fields next to trails, streams and back roads, for hours the ride is unremarkable highlighted by Cities like Birmingham and Atlanta. Dinner is a remarkable New Orlean's gumbo and a freshly baked chicken and was clearly the best meal we had on any segment of our journey.

As we slept the train passes through South Carolina and North Carolina and as breakfast is called we awaken in Charlottesville, Virginia. Bob decides to sleep in again so I headed to the dining car on my own. The breakfast special is biscuits and sausage with country gravy and grits. Oh my God, I haven't tasted anything this good since my late father's own cooking of this famous breakfast of Southern working people. So, luxuriating in the splendid simplicity of this thrombosis generating extravagance I decide to let Bob sleep and have another cup of coffee... or two.

Virginia continues to slide by with famous names like Culpepper, Manassas, Alexandria, then Washington. The roadbed throughout the Crescent's segment was among the best we found anywhere during our travels. So the trip up the Shenandoah Valley was smooth and punctuated by neat farms, rolling hills reflecting the gentile nature one associates with Virginia... unless you've ever lived in this area and received a traffic ticket for going 56 mph on their L-O-N-G Interstate highways. Having made that long, boring drive many times since moving North, I was very glad to be enjoying the postcard version from the train.

Monday, January 18, 2010, 12:05 pm: We roll out of Washington, DC's Union Station right on time and begin the transition from the gentile South to the Gritty North East as we pass through Baltimore with its massive steel works, prosperous Delaware with its equally prosperous chemical plants that steer us into arriving at Philadelphia's Union Station. The skyline of Philly has certainly changed since I lived there with lots of new skyscrapers making the city look like a 21^st Century megalopolis. Passing the famous boathouses along the Schuylkill River I noticed freshly restored and even a few new ones added to the mix since I lived here. Crews were lining up on the river for a race as we passed by giving the image a very Thomas Eakin's feel. The nice part of Philly rolls by and the endless stretches of row houses emphasize the important role neighborhoods continue to play in this great city.

Next, Trenton then Newark signals the packing point to close up the computer, gather our things and prepare for New York City's Pennsylvania Station where we arrive early at 2:05 pm Bob has us booked at a Holiday Inn Express only two short blocks from Penn Station.

For our short stay in New York we had arranged to reconnect with our Friends Mark and Jim and rekindle a relationship last fueled before we moved to Provincetown. Our Friend, Dirk from San Francisco who you will remember from the Posting from San Francisco is also in New York and joins us for dinner. Mark and Jim suggest the High-line and we walk from 22^nd street to its end near the Village where we have an incredible dinner at La Lunchonette on 10^th Ave. After dinner we make the long walk back up to 29th street, say our goodbye's and vow to never let this much time separate us again between visits.

Tuesday, January 19, 2020, 11:00am: North East corridor Service, NYC to Boston. The train was 20 minutes late and felt like an omen. if you've traveled this route before you know it can be notoriously delayed, but today we were in luck. This was an easy relaxing ride as we visited the memories along the way of New Haven, Guilford, our old home, and the beautiful Connecticut shoreline.

This was the perfect end to the perfect trip. We arrived in South Station Boston where we started 3 weeks and one day ago. With 5 minutes to spare we stepped onto the Kingston 'T' and headed off to meet our friend Austin and home to Provincetown.

NOTE...

Is this the end? Well, not eaxctly. we still have a lot of work to to edit all the entries one last time, add-in notes about favorite restaurants and places, link in other material so you can explore many of the same places we explored and most important, add-in the pictures. Through the course of the trip we made about 1000 images. Some you have already seen in the Lake Shore Limited and Empire Builder postings. Because they are shot through a thick piece of acrylic often dirty or scratched, all the images shot from the train require a lot of work. So it will take a few days to complete all the work.

Finally, we will also post an epilogue soon so we can share lots of things we learned about train travel along the way.   We can tell you this, we are already planning our next adventure and encourage you to do the same. We never regretted one part of this adventure and truly enjoyed every moment. We are very sorry to see it end.

So please check back from time to time to learn more about our trip.

New Orleans, Let the Good Times Roll...

Sunday, January 17, 2010 New Orleans, LA; Since this was his first trip to New Orleans I thought it only fitting that Bob give you his own impressions of the 'Big Easy' so here it is...

I was a bit surprised in a most pleasant way that New Orleans did not have a doom and gloom feel to it due to the devastation left behind by Katrina. In fact, it was a maven for party animals all throughout the French Quarter, the Faubourg Marigny, where we stayed and the Garden District. Bourbon Street was ablaze with all the beautiful people of the younger set who were very much enamored of the New Orleans Saints football game that took place last night. So much so that as we walked down Bourbon Street there was no stretch of it that did not echo the sounds of young men and women yelling, hollering, hooting, shouting, laughing all the while hugging, holding hands, patting each other on the back and just smiling as they carried their libations in plastic cups. Up on the second floor balconies were young guys and girls one and two deep who were yelling to those of us down below to get us to reveal a little skin, any skin in exchange for beads. This, mind you, wasn't even Mardi Gras which, from what I have been told, is a fireworks of exposed flesh that in other towns would get you arrested for indecent exposure. Nonetheless, the energy that rebounded throughout the Bourbon Street and surrounding neighborhoods was fantastic. You could not escape the vibe on the street nor the wave of high energy that permeated throughout so it was best to just smile at people and embrace it all because it all seemed to be geared toward letting you experience a sense of “Animal House' antics in an innocent and festive way. I actually only saw one (1) guy drunk who staggered down the street. He was being watched and smiled at by a group of other guys who thought the poor dude was comically wasted but they left him alone as he staggered into the crowd and out of sight probably being held upright by the jammed packed people who were all around him. New Orleans was ablaze with anticipation of the Saints game when we arrived on Friday evening and full of the actual play mania on Saturday so when touchdown after touchdown occurred, the fun and excitement took form in volley after volley of boisterous yelling and glass to glass, bottle to bottle toasting at all the bars so that by the end of the game, you guessed it, there were a lot of very, very happy tipsy people walking throughout town.

If staying in the bars watching the game wasn't your thing there is every imaginable store to walk through that sell everything from tiny dollar trinkets to extremely expensive home furnishings, jewelry and whatever the heck you might think you need. In addition there was no loss for fine dining venues as row after row of restaurants are plastered all throughout the French Quarter offering you anything from gumbo to pheasant under glass to suit you fancy. I'm not big on spicy food so what I ordered was a bit different from what Gary ordered but all of it was good to excellent. Shortly after we arrived in town, we ate at a small eatery on Bourbon Street and had gumbo and a beer which warmed us from the rainy chill in the air. Then, later in the evening, at the recommendation of our B&B host, David, we opted to try Tujague's which was 823 Decatur @ Dumaine. Gary had crayfish over pasta and I had steak for our entrees. It was a six course meal which was good but not really something that stood out enough to warrant the bucks. Saturday we ate at Adolfo's at 611 Frenchmen @ Chartres which was a small upstairs dive but the food was terrific as was the ambiance and the waitstaff so we found a good mix of what can be expected in town. Whatever suits your fancy it's there and more in the French Quarter which draws you in to the interconnecting, intertwining, intersecting streets all within walking distance. Because of the rain and fog, I kept thinking of Anne Rice's vampire stories and Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise's version of Lastat and could see how New Orleans could entice such mysteries from the mind of an ingenious author. Whether old or new ways of thinking, the young, not-so-young and the elder groups co-exist nicely in this town to add color, fanfare and frivolity to the ever changing weather and lots to see and do. I now understand why so many people were in tears after Katrina because they felt the charm, the enchantment, the magic that has characterized New Orleans since the French founded the French Quarter in 1741 might be lost forever. Guess what folks? It's not and it's back and it's gaining momentum and if the year round residents of New Orleans have anything to say about it, it will regain the glory and position it once held as one hell of a town to visit for one hell of an experience.

We stayed in a small B&B called Chez Palmiers on N. Rampart Street. Schuyler and David run it and they do an excellent job. It's an older building with a main floor and a second story. They have a pool out back but there was a bit of a chill in the air so we opted to forgo a plunge especially since it was not heated. Since we only had two days there we thought it best to use that time to scope out the city instead of just resting in the swimming pool. David greeted us upon arrival and gave us the skinny on where to eat, what to see, how the city is laid out, where to pick up the trolley and where he thought we might want to go to see things we voiced an interest in which was very helpful. Even though it rained the evening we arrived and the next evening as well, we took umbrellas supplied by Chez Palmiers and were able to avoid getting wet and cold. We were looking a bit dapper wearing our foul weather gear carrying red umbrellas in hand. When the rain stopped we folded up the umbrellas and used them as walking sticks that sort of gave us a distinct look with, no doubt, tourist written all over us. But, who cared. We had a great time and life was good and it also helped us spot one another in the crowd by raising them above heads and, 'poof', we knew where teach other was.

We hopped into a taxi to take us from the train station to the B&B. The cab driver said business was terribly slow and we were the first customers he had had all day. It was 3PM when we arrived in town so go figure. We were a bit suspicious when the cab driver did not immediately put his meter on so Gary said, “Don't you want to start your meter?” The driver said, “No, it's a flat hundred dollars to wherever you're going” Gary said, “I can see why business has been slow at those rates!” The actual cost was around $15, tip included. On the return trip from the B&B to the station it cost us a dollar less. Both cabbies were nice gents and talkative and knew their way around so we didn't get taken on a joy ride to spike up the fare.

Cafe du Monde. For those of you who know what Cafe du Monde is, nothing more need be said. Gary mentioned from the onset of this trip that once we got to New Orleans, it would necessitate a stop at Cafe du Monde. but he would not tell me what awaited us there. All he would say was, “Oh, you'll see!” Not until we arrived and only after we walked in front of the place by mistake was I made aware that it was there they create these fluffy doughy confections with powered sugar piled two stories high on top so that there is no way you can escape a sugar high even if you tried. If I was heard to say I am not a donut eater after partaking of the Cafe du Monde experience, I would immediately be corrected by hearing that they do not serve donuts there; they create a Beignets confectionery experience that is typically French and very decadent, very sweet and a wonderful way to satisfy the sweet tooth. To say they are popular is to say water is wet!. The place was packed. Outside seating was on small street-side cafe style tables and chairs that were all occupied when we arrived and, yet, within minutes we had a table to sit at and were being served. There was an ever-changing flood of patrons coming and going so it was like a tidal way of people arriving, eating beignets, talking, smoozing, leaving and then another cast of characters would arrive and the scenario would play itself out again and again and again. For the passing street crowd, free entertainment was watching those of us sitting down eating beignets while those of us eating at the Cafe were entertained by those same people watching us. No doubt, if someone ventured into New Orleans and just happened to stumble by Cafe du Monde, they would soon know that this was a place they, too, had to stop to experience because this was part of tradition that characterized the New Orleans landscape steeped in the joy of the French patisserie.

And the band played on and on and on. Everywhere you went you could hear jazz being played or singers pouring their hearts out with ballads or torch songs that reminded you of Billy Holiday or Bessie Smith or other great jazz vocalists. Music of all kinds rebounded from the building entrance ways enticing you to stop and listen simply because it was so notable. Tall windows hanging proudly on these old, majestic building lining the streets were open wide so we could listen to what patrons inside were hearing. That was a great way to draw you in from the street to sit, listen, buy drinks and be entertained by fantastic sounds that, dare I say, could even evoke a tear from your heart because of the passion that resonated in the voices that sang so beautifully. Even the street performers, some of whom took up residence in the middle of cordoned off streets, sang with fire in their voices and passion in their hearts making the love of music everywhere evident. Buckets were laid out in front of the street performers so donations could be made but nothing was forced upon the passersby. That wasn't necessary because the quality of the music was so good and the players/singers were getting into their own instrumental/vocal soul not aware of what was or was not being offered all the while giving people a 'feel good' experience free for the listening. Then after standing a while listening to one singer or group of players, you'd be off walking a bit more until you heard a new sound, a new voice enticing you closer and then the same scenario would unfold all over again. It was quite amazing to note the vocal ranges, the skill of the accompaniment that made these open air mini concerts so fantastic. All of that evoked smiles and good cheer and applause and thank-yous from everybody in the street scene.

Gary and I boarded a trolley that took us out to the Garden District section. David from Chez Palmiers suggested we board at the corner of Bourbon and Canal streets which was where people we unloading who wanted to get into the hub of the city so the trolley cars were less likely to be full at that juncture. And they were so we got a seat immediately. It only took about ten minutes to get us to the Garden District where we got off at Washington Street. We walked through a very old cemetery where all the plots were above ground. The water table in the city is so high, they can not bury people underneath the ground because every time it would rain, the caskets would float to the surface. Imagine! So, they use crypts for the deceased which seems to keep the dead from popping up at various intersections of adjoining neighborhoods to the cemeteries. In the Garden District there are ante-bellum mansions (that period before the civil war). They are amazing to see. They are huge, stately homes that have been painstakingly maintained over the decades which give a glimpse of the pride and attention to detail craftsmen had for creating neighborhood beauties that stood out and honored the success and social status of the grand ladies' original owners. Some of these fine mansions are now used by institutions or banks or venues but the District section is about five blocks by six blocks square so there are still quite a few of these great beauties which are currently being used as a primary home. After many photos and endless miles of walking we hopped back onto the trolley again, paid the usual $1.25 fee to take us back into the center of all the noise and partying and just watched the activities going on in the various neighborhoods en route. I think I will return one day to New Orleans. I would like to experience the high energy of Mardi Gras. I would have to make sure I rented one of those balcony stations so I could get a bird's eye view of all the madness going on at street level. Of course, I suspect watching it from above is a blast but that must urge you on to get street-side to be a spectator as well. Needless to say, I enjoyed New Orleans and hope to revisit her in the not-too-distant future.

Postscript...

So from the eyes of an Irish Catholic, YANKEE, New Orleans Virgin there you have it. But just a couple of other things that need to be said. We thought New Orleans would still be down on her knees and struggling to just survive and pleasantly, that was not the case. True the city has lost ½ its population from 10 years ago but it is still the Grande Dame of party. It has a Joie d'Vie which is immediately contagious and an energy which is vibrant, electric and non-stop. Even if you've just gotten off a train and are numb from 36 hours of Texas you can't help but get caught up in the enthusiasm. You want this great city to succeed because we all need a place to let our hair down. Yes, there are still 'tourist traps' , for example, we had a lovely $60 dinner at 'Tujague's' on Decatur and it only cost us $100's so you can still be had. But we also had a truly outstanding dinner at 'Adolfo's' a tiny restaurant over a bar in the Marigny and it only cost us $48. The place had 30 tables, waiters whose attitude was so endearing and Adolfo, alone in the kitchen preparing every dish with a TLC reserved for those tiny restaurants you encounter in Tuscany. The air in New Orleans is made up of 1 part Oxygen, 1 part Nitrogen and 3 parts music. It pours from every doorway, it sits in every vacant stoop , it sets up in the middle of the street and it is ubiquitous, and all good! That was the New Orleans we want to remember and to encourage others to see for themselves. As our taxi driver told us when we arrived at 3:00pm, “You are my first fare since 7:00 this morning.” Put New Orleans into your vacation or travel plans and help this grand city survive. It's not charity, its going to a place which has become our best kept secret. There is nothing to be afraid of and it is all right there just as it has always been: the music, the food, the atmosphere, the Trolleys, the Beignets, the revelers, the Mississippi at your feet and on and on.

New Orleans is back baby, Laisssez les bon temps rouler!

The Sunset Limited from Tucson to New Orleans...

Thursday, January 14, 2010; 7:15am El Paso, Texas; We both slept fairly well if only for 5 hours. The feel of the train stopping brought my senses to alert. I opened the curtains and looked out the window and staring back was the industrial side of El Paso,TX  gritty and uninviting. This is South Texas on the border with Juarez ,Mexico, two cities facing tough times from a variety of problems including the recession, NAFTA, drugs, gun smuggling and more. I'm feeling brave so I got up and wandered down to the dining car, while Bob decided 5 hours of sleep was absolutely not enough and grumbles as I slid out the door. Some days the dining car chemistry just didn't work and Thursday was one of those days. Not one of the 4 of us sitting together could come up with a conversation with enough general appeal to make us chat. Which was just as well as the lack of sleep had not left me very chipper...Sort of in a, “If your not setting coffee in front of me people are going to die!” kind of mood... Plus the man sitting next to me had some sort of interpersonal relationship with sheep and yelped, “Bah, bah, bah” several times during the meal. Oh god, I'd been seated next to a nut! We all looked deeply into our plates when these utterances repeatedly profused. Breakfast was introspective to say the least.

Breakfast over, Thank God!!, I grabbed a Tea-to-go for Bob and headed back to the compartment. Our compartment on this segment is much like the one we had on the Empire Builder with spacious berths, shower and toilet en suite. Bob is still complaining about the size of the hot tub though and I keep reminding him IT IS A TRAIN afterall, but he is not amused.

8:15 am and right on schedule the Sunset Limited pulled out of the El Paso station headed East for Alpine, San Antonio, Houston and on the following day, New Orleans. Shortly after leaving El Paso the terrain flattens out and runs to the far horizon bleak, empty and unbroken. A terrain so flat and desolate there isn't even dirt...just nothingness, but Texans would probably extol the virtue of it because it's: “nothing as far as the eye can see!”. Eventually grassland and cactus join the emptiness and after an hour more, we begin to see rolling hills, then mountains as we climb to Paisano Pass, the highest point on the Sunset Limited's route.

12:30pm, Leaving the mountains behind we pull onto the siding at Alpine, TX. Someone really had a very sick sense of humor when they named this town Alpine... Not a snow covered mountain or field of wild flowers in sight. In fact, not a single thing that would bring to mind an 'Alpine' setting...but, as before, “nothingness as far as the eye can see!” A better name might have been sans-Alpine. Joking aside, Alpine is the jumping off point for the Big Bend Ntl Park and a good place to explore the NPS and AMTRAK 'Trails and Rails' program. Also, Alpine is the mid-point on the Sunset limited line as we waited on the siding for Sunset Limited sister Train #1 to pass us. We had to make an emergency stop at Sanderson, TX as one of our passengers was sick. We heard the car attendant call the conductor to car 219 and then saw uniformed trainmen hustling past our cabin door to wherever that person was.located then the inevitable, “Is there a doctor or nurse on the train?” Then, we rolled into Sanderson station which was not a scheduled stop so passing an ambulance and police car we assumed they unloaded the person. As we sat in the station yard we looked around the town and immediately thought of the Twilight Zone show. There were buildings all around and streets that were lined with homes, cars parked in driveways and left derelict in yards or on nearby fields but there was not one human being walking around. This was a town set in the valley with not too tall mountains surrounding it and there were quite a few homes accounted for that were all lined up in row after row but... not a sole was walking to anything or from anything. There were a few cars driving through the town but... nobody was driving them or so it seemed. Soon the train started to move again so we assumed the sickened passenger was left on the station platform... in the Twilight Zone and would be taken care of by Rod Serling! We can only imagine how this passenger must feel stuck in a hospital miles away from anything familiar. We were just glad to get out of there as it was a bit eerie. Then we started to pick up speed so we felt we were 'back on track'... so-to-speak. Then the train slowed to a crawl and stopped. Oh, boy, we hoped we weren't heading back to Sanderson. Finally we were rolling again. The scenery through our cabin window was dull and boring yet it draws you into a trance even though there is only endless ranch land full of cactus, old telegraph lines, scrub grass and small stones that stretch far off into the horizon. It is a land fascinating in its vastness and monotony.

Soon ,we would began to pass terrain which would make even Sanderson seem cosmopolitan and endless vista of buttes, pointing to canyons, stretching to the horizon and back again. Every cow-boy movie cliche set image passes by our window. Shortly after sunset in that time of day when there is more darkness than daylight but not quite night yet, we cross over the Pecos river .. This breaks the terrain for a few fleeting moments, then as night falls we think we will soon be out of Texas... won't we???

Friday, January 15, Beaumont, TX 7:00am; Is this some cruel joke? Yes, gentle reader we are STILL in Texas...It is unbelievable, but will this state never end? We showered, headed down to the Dining Car and while chatting with our breakfast partners a man and his LSU sophomore grandson show us the exact point where we crossed from Texas to Louisiana. A quick scope of some license plates of cars sitting in drive-ways tells them we are, in fact, in their home state of Louisiana. Thank you Huey Long!

The discussion turns to whether what we see out of our window is a bayou or a swamp, the younger, an undergraduate in civil Engineering said it was a bayou, his grandfather said it was a swamp. Seems a bayou is deeper and moves more slowly but, to us these differences were completely philosophical... they were all swamps to us.

As the morning passes we are definitely in the bayou or swamp country of small hard-scrabble towns, trailer parks, shuttered businesses, refineries, highways on stilts. We passed over the first Mississippi delta around noon and were definitely in endless bayous, or whatever the hell they were, on both sides of the train. Bob has observed that there are a LOT of people in these United States who live in trailers...or used to. Plus, there doesn't seem to be much of a market for abandoned trailers... I'm sorry, I am politically incorrect, the correct term should be 'manufactured housing'... ie; trailers...

12:45, Schriever, LA our last stop before the 'Big Easy' slid behind us as we stared the approach to New Orleans. Wheat fields,. Sugar cane, swamp/bayou, in no particular order as we cross the parishes leading to New Orleans. Around 1:30pm we started passing refineries and huge industrial complexes, these stretch on an on until the skyline of the 'Big Easy' came into view. The only evidence of Katrina we saw was a forest knocked over about 20 miles out of New Orleans, a full half-hour ahead of schedule we roll into New Orleans Union Station, grab our bags and head off into the party capital of the Universe, New Orleans, Louisiana... Let the good times roll

A side trip to the Grand Canyon...

Sunday, January 10 Grand Canyon, AZ; The trip from Phoenix to Grand Canyon takes about 3 hours. So we get a very early start around 10:00am...Well, we meant to get an early start. Taking Interstate 10 out of Phoenix, there is a variety of terrain and flora as we climb up from the Sanoran desert with Saguaro Cactus and century plants to the evergreen forests around and beyond Flagstaff. Road climbs steadily upward from Phoenix and is well maintained. It is a pleasant drive but beware to keep the speed limit! There was a lot of police activity the day we drove
.

Flagstaff is a medium-sized college town famous for it's record-setting snow falls. Making the interchange from I-10 to I-40 then taking I-40 west out of Flagstaff we drive about 20 miles and make the turn up State Route 68 to begin the 55 mile straight drive to the Grand Canyon National Park. As we get closer to on either side of the road. the canyon, Bob points out the many miles of flat terrain running to the edge of the horizon in both directions. It seems like we have been driving for hours with nothing taller than low shrubs and sage brush on either side of the road. You don't actually realize you are actually on the top of a high Mesa with level terrain and a straight road seemingly leading to no where. It isn't until we see the Ntl Park Svc signs that we realize the Canyon must be nearby. Following the signs, we weave our way into one of the many parking areas and begin to follow the crowd of silent pilgrim headed toward... what? This forested and flat terrain does a great job of masking the surprise ahead. People begin to slow and move off to the various viewpoints as the first glimpse comes through the trees. Nothing can prepare you for what happens next.

As the trees thin to nothing you find yourself standing on the edge of the very world itself. The terrain drops away from you in an undulating but unbroken line left and right only to re-appear hundreds, or is it thousands, of feet below you and in front of you. It stretches as far as the eye can see around the mesa to your right, then peering off to the left it follows the valley out of sight up the canyon of the Colorado. Way, way, way below you can catch a fleeting glimpse of the khaki-green Colorado river on its way to being gobbled up by the cities of Southern Arizona and California. It doesn't matter how many pictures you have seen, or how many movies or Ken Burns' specials you have watched nothing can describe the feeling of standing at the edge of that precipice. Use any adjective you can think of ...Link them altogether if you wish and still you will have failed to describe this place, this moment. We spent three hours just looking, walking, taking pictures, with our own camera and the cameras of others, scouring the Visitor's Center to learn as much as we could in the brief time we had to enjoy this most special of places. Although it was cloudy when we arrived, as we were leaving we were treated to the late afternoon sun which plays in the shadows and highlights the many layers which make up the Canyon. What a treat and what a day! The three hour drive home is quiet and uneventful with some favorite tunes on the MP3 player and a brain chocked full of those once in a life time visuals of the first time you see the Grand Canyon.

Listen to us... Put this on your list of places to see before you die. It's not easy to get here Las Vegas is 400 miles away and Phoenix is not many miles less but it is worth every mile to see and experience this place. If you can do it, try to spend a few days in the Canyon or the village to really enjoy this grand place.

Palm Springs and two very short days with Ron...

Tuesday, January 5, 2010 Palm Springs
Amtrak station; Meeting us at the station was Ron, our mentor and
very special friend from Connecticut. Ron moved to Palm Springs 5
years ago and has established a nice community of friends in his new
home in Rancho Mirage. We dump our gear at Ron's beautiful home, have
a quick cocktail then head to one of Ron's favorite restaurants.
Since eating out is a major form of recreation in Palm Springs, bad
restaurants cannot survive. After a splendid meal with Ron and
introductions to some of his friends who passed by our table, he
took us on a tour of the various Cities as the areas are called which
makes up the Palm Springs region. After an hour of touring, Bob and
I were both surprised by how much the desert had exploded with new
buildings and businesses since our last visit over 12 years ago.

With a day to spend exploring the area,
Ron took us up in the mountains about an hour drive to the Town of
Idylwild located high up in the San Joacquin mountains, which is a
perfect escape from the hot weather in Palm Springs and a nice drive
anytime of year. They get snow up there on a pretty regular basis and
the Town's streets still showed signs of a 12” snow fall within the
last 2 weeks but most of it was melted which is a nice way to
experience a blanket of white: short term! Ron took us out to see
his new building lot where he hopes to build a cabin to escape from
Palm Springs. Location, location, location with spectacular panoramic
views of the valley and mountains below and around his track of
paradise. Ron will certainly enjoy the peace and beauty of this very
special place and if we are lucky, we'll get invited back to see it
in person. after it is built.

Our arrival in Palm Springs coincided
with the Palm Springs International Film Festival so we treated
ourselves to two exceptional movies before grabbing our bags,
visiting Jules, another friend of ours and Ron's who just recently
bought a five-bedroom house in Palm Springs. Then it was off to
catch the 5:08pm Sunset Limited for the next leg of our trip to
Tucson, AZ.

Palm Springs to Tucson on the Sunset Limited

Friday, Jaunary 8, 2010, 4:50pm, Palm Springs Amtrak Station; Having spent the day running between movies at the Palm Springs Intl Film Festival, we had barely enough time to grab a dinner at 'Jack in the box' to eat on the train. Figuring from our previous experience we figured the train would be around 30minutes late, so we decided to picum-nicum on the station platform until some one yelled “It's coming round the bend now” Oh Christ, I'm gobbling down fast food...Train stops and people begin to move, faster, faster, chew, chew... people began to board. Stuffing food for chewing later I continued forward. The conductor asked me which destination and I had no room for words to make the 5 inches from the back of my throat to my lips they were so stuffed with food. Looking like a chipmunk in September, I grabbed my tickets and stuffed them Into his hands. He gives me a strange but mildly empathetic nod and guided us to our seats.

5:30pm and on-time the Palm Springs to Tucson segment of the Sunset Limited rolls toward Tuscon seven hours to the southeast. Running at night, the Limited passes through the desert towns which we can only see twinkling across the landscape as we head into the night for a 1:05am arrival in Tucson. Since we traveled in the dark there wasn't much to see but from the lights off in the distance it was obvious the terrain is flat and extends far out from the train tracks so perhaps it was a good choice to travel at night as we gather there's not much to see but Mexico twinkling far off in the night. The seven hour trip was grueling in coach, more so for Bob who is 6'2” and a man who does not contort very well in the contours of the coach seats so he tossed and turned throughout the trip trying to get comfortable. The next time we do this, anything over a five hour duration will mandate a sleeper coach so we can stretch out and relax. Nice idea but practicality says on runs less than 24 hours the proper traveler joins the little people in th evack of the train, While Bob did complain about the lack of sleeping comforts compared to what we had experienced on previous segments Amtrak of the journey where we had sleeping accommodations, he didn't realize he was snoring most of the way.

We had also encountered another 'gabber' coach person who never stopped talking. Imagine someone jumping up and down in a crowd yelling your name all the while everybody else is looking at you wondering who the heck is that person yelling for. Well, we no sooner sat down than a women turned from her seat with bulging eyes glaring and yelled out, “Weren't you the guys who traveled from LA to Palm Springs on the same train I did? Sure you were. Don't you remember me?” I held my breath hoping he wouldn't do it but, no, Bob speaks up and says, “Oh, yeah, you were heading to Tucson to visit your sister?” “That's right” she beams back and then jumps out of her seat and stands in the aisle next to us asking us a bazillion questions. “Oy Vey!” Kindness to strangers can get to be a bit taxing at times but... we chatted and then were lucky enough that she pulled the ear off of a forlorn young gentleman sitting aside of us who was as gregarious as she and wanted to tell her about his tales of woe having just been dumped by his girlfriend. So she found a new traveling companion and it wasn't long before they bounded down the aisle together to the snack car where they could chew each other's ears off. When our train arrived in Tucson, we purposefully grabbed our gear and sped off the train to avoid being stopped to rattle on and out of the station we dragged our luggage and headed to our hotel which was conveniently located directly across the street. Believe me when I say, at 1:00am there are few other criteria beyond convenient one can be thankful for when finding accommodations at that hour.

Saturday, January 9, 2010, Tucson, AZ, 1:05am; The Hotel Congress is stumble-drunk-into-the-front-lobby-convenient to the train station and we thought a historic hotel would be fun. It's a great idea to try and save these old buildings and to give guests a chance to step back to the golden age of train travel. The Hotel Congress is owned by a young team who have really done an outstanding job of turning the public spaces into restaurants, and bars with a variety of energy and entertainment venues. Be sure and specify a room well away from the noise of these venues or pick-up a pair of ear-plugs from the front desk as the bar patrons party until after 1am.

Had the box springs on the beds not been torn and dingy looking and rodent traps not found under the bed, we would have nothing else to complain about. We would have liked a TV in the room only to watch to wind down after the long train ride. Friday, Jan 9, 2010, we found out the the room we were promised which was away from the noise and chatter was not what we were given. Bob went down to the manager that morning and spoke to her about it and told her we were checking out a day early but wondered if the payment for that could be applied to our return visit on the thirteenth. She was very accommodating so we didn't lose the cost for the one night. After checking out we grabbed our rental car and headed to Phoenix. That way we could see the Grand Canyon and Santa Fe which we did not think we'd have enough time to do. Now we would.

We had a rental car delivered from Enterprise rent-a-car, which is a very convenient way to obtain transportation in, through and around a strange city. By 11:30am we were heading North East from Tucson to explore the back roads from Tucson to Phoenix. If we have the time, we prefer scenic back roads to the faster, more sterile Interstate Highways. So today we decided to take State Route 79 to 77 then take US 60 into Phoenix.

I think we were prepared to be wowed but this was beyond our wildest imagination. Shortly after heading North on 77, the road parallels the front line of the mountains delivering vistas which are almost other wordly. A few miles further rolling hills begin to stretch east to west from foothills to foothills with low rise houses tucked into each valley and hilltop.

Soon we leave this behind to be replaced by cactus, sage brush and little else in the vast empty spaces of sunshine and desert. About 30 miles out of Tucson we see the sign for 'Biosphere 2'. I've been a science and technology junkie all my life and remembered very well the experiments in the early 90's where a team of Scientist were sealed away for 2 years in this self-contained environment... I had to see this! Long story made a little shorter, we spent about 2 hours at Biosphere taking a full tour and being totally amazed at 'Big Science' in action. Bob was prepared to be bored but when he saw all the plants and environments he was asking all kinds of great questions of the tour guide and was totally enthralled by the entire facility.

Follow the link to Biosphere 2 for more information on this amazing place on the cutting edge of environmental science. biosphere 2

We continue on route 77 being amazed by each new vista and other earthly skylines full of mesa's, pinnacles, valleys and horizons that are as tortured as a rusted old whip-saw blade.

As 77 begins to head northwest the highway passes through the Saguro National Park bringing back memories of those cowboy movies from the 50's and the huge cactus with their arms upraised. Some of these cactus are gigantic and beyond anything we have ever seen or even imagined. Mile after mile across undulating hills and extending along mountain tops, these magnificent and endangered species are making their last stand in these hills.

The road splits in Haynes becoming route 79 as it heads more northwest toward city of Mesa. Just out of Haynes we spot an unusual mesa which is the size of a mountain but appears man-made. A few miles up the road we see one which runs for miles in several directions. Bewildered by what mining process could create spoil heaps this large, we finally come to an observation sight where all is made clear as we peer down into one of the largest holes on earth, the ASARCO copper mines abound which are enormous beyond description. We see a huge digging machine nearby and another one across the great pit but the latter looks like a Tonka toy in comparison because it's so far across the other side of this gigantic pit. I'm very sure the local environmentalist fight a huge battle with the ASARCO over these operations. But it is clear, the environmentalist are not winning as man made mesas are popping up along the desert landscape to stockpile the rock byproduct of the copper mining operations.

Just beyond the copper pit mines, the road climbs steeply and at a point where it seems it will explode right out of the mountain top, a vista opened that was so vast and beautiful only one word comes to mind,...'Spiritual'. It is very clear why the Native Americans so revered this land. It is a vista many have seen in travel posters but until you see it for yourself, a thousand pictures cannot express that feeling of coming through that pass in the mountains.

The drive into Phoenix was uneventful compared to what we had already seen. Settled for the night, we took out the maps and began to plan for the trip tomorrow up to the Grand Canyon. This will be Bob's second trip there and my first and it is hard to sleep thinking about it.

The Sunset Limited- Los Angeles to Palm Springs

Wednesday, January 6, 2010, 2:35pm. Los Angeles, CA: The Sunset limited rolls out of the magnificent Union Station, which has got to be one of the most impressive and grand terminals in the United States. The train room and train corridor are spaces which have been lovingly preserved just the way they were in the 1930's at the height of their grandeur. As you walk through the waiting room you can just feel the regiments of movie stars, grand people, he ordinary Joe's, the thousands of brave men heading off to the War(s) and the fewer number who were able to make the long walk back through the impressive foyer on their ways home and to new lives. This is a waiting room and train hall where by the act of walking through them makes you feel the excitement of adventure which waits down the long corridor where the platforms branch left and right.

Part of the expense to preserve this great building comes from renting it out for weddings, movies and special events. It is a creative way to maintain a grand building such as this and we hope the idea is transported to other parts of the country before any more of these historic structures are lost.

For information on the Sunset Limited click here; Technical information about the Sunset Limited

 

Sunset limiteds 3 day trek across the AmericanSouthest

Amtraks Informatiion, Route Guide and Schedule about the Sunset Limited;Amtrak, Sunset Limited informnation

We find our coach and right on time the Southwest Limited blows her whistle and begins to roll out of Union Station for the every-other day run across the Southwestern border of the United States. As we head South and East out of LA the first views are of hard-scrabble neighborhoods where life is mean and often short, small manufacturing and fabrication facilities sometimes stuffed 15 to the building via for location on odd shaped lots. In a few minutes these tough neighborhoods give way to tree lined avenues stretching deep across South LA. The neighborhoods give way to larger manufacturing facilities where we get pulled onto a siding track to wait for a freight train to crawl into the LA railroad yards. Again we are reminded that these rails are all about freight and we are barely tolerated, step children at someone else's dinner party.

The suburbs of Pamona and Ontario glide by with their neat industrial parks and office complexes. Our side kick as we roll through the flatlands of Orange County are the peaks of the mountains in the East. Around 4:00pm the dining car steward comes bounding through our observation car yelling what sounds like , Dinerentshun, Dinerentshun.” Then we realize he was mumbling “Dinner reservations.” No takers from us as our trip lasts a mere three hours and our destination, Palm Springs, is famous for its restaurants.

Homeless people under the viaducts remind us of one of this regions biggest challenges. The weather is so good it is a magnet for homeless people from all over the country... if they can get here. We try to remember which flood viaduct was used in which movie. We recognize the one used in the Terminator, and the one from the the Italian Job but the rest were anonymous.

As we get further out of Los Angeles we enter the Rolling hills of Loma Linda scoured clean after the fires as evidenced by the solitary mansion sitting on a mountain top here and there. As we enter the Palm Springs Valley, we are surrounded by hundreds of wind generators stretching along the tracks along both sides of the valley which is beautiful and rhythmic and attests to how one state's commitment to alternative power is making a solid impact on the amount of fossil fuels used for power generation. Equally important in Palm Springs is the use of solar power for generating hot water and power is growing rapidly

Right on time we arrive in Palm Springs with our good friend, Ron waiting for us on the station platform and we are ready experience a couple of days of warmth in the Southern California sun.

The Coast Starlight - Oakland to Los Angeles

Tuesday, January 5,2010, 8:35 am; We board the Coastal Starlight for the trip to Los Angeles. It is a pleasure to be back on the Starlight since it has become our favorite train thus far. This leg we are traveling in Coach for the 13 hour run to LA.

The Starlight heads down California's Central Valley, America's vegetable bowl then, turns West across the tortured spine of the San Andreas Fault, paralleling the Pacific coast to Santa Barbara before it turns back inland to make the final run into Greater Los Angeles.

Once the train leaves the sprawl of Silicon Valley, the terrain wrinkles into gently rolling hills which appear to have been covered with some verdant form of felt. They roll majestically and politely for miles until just before Gilroy, CA where they divide with one set of hills rolling toward the Eastern horizon and the other rolling to the West. In the space they create and spreading from mountain range to mountain range in both directions is a table-top flat valley which produces most of the vegetables consumed in this country. Row after row, mile after mile, separated by the occasional irrigation canal and punctuated by the occasional giant fan used to stir the air when the temperature drops to prevent freezing.

Mesmerizing in its monotony, it is phenomenal to believe so much land is cultivated in so many ways to grow so much food and we get to see only a small portion as the valley continues southward ever expanding until it is easily half the width of the State. We, on the other hand, begin to past the dinosaur-like structures that rhythmically feed insatiably on the oil deep below.. Turning slowly to the West we begin a long, slow ascent up and over the mountains as we twist our way toward San Luis Obispo. Descending on the other side of the mountains at one point the train makes a descending 'U' turn that almost appears to make a complete circle. Looking out the window the locomotive almost appears to be looking straight back at us as it twists it's way down the mountain. Passing a huge prison just outside of San Luis Obispo we soon came to the small but beautiful town which has long been considered the dividing point between geographic Northern and Southern California. If driving, it is at San Luis Obispo where you must make the decision to follow the Winnebagos up the Pacific Coast Highway to Big Sur, Monterey and on into San Francisco or to take the quicker route up US101.

Fortunately, the decision is made for us and we continue our trek toward the Pacific with Santa Barbara just ahead. We parallel the Pacific just long enough to catch the setting sun as our dinner reservations are announced. Tonight we shared a table with a couple from Perth Australia who had been in Seattle attending their son's wedding. He was a psychologist and she worked in Community organizing, just like Pres. Obama! They were on their way to LA to catch the long flight home to Perth. Bob, having made the flight to Sydney several years ago commiserated on just how miserable 22 hours on an airplane can be. He was on the same flight with McKensie Phillips during what now seems were her turbulent years so, in hindsight, the flight had more significance than he knew. Having flown 13 hours once myself on a flight from New York to Tokyo, I could only imagine what another 9 or 10 hours would have been like. There are not enough bad movies, airline food and cramped seats on any airline to make me ever want to stay in a flying toothpaste tube for 22 hours. Run tracks from LA to Sydney and we'll talk...

On both segments of the Coastal Starlight the food has been excellent, freshly prepared, creative and tasty. Back at our table in the observation car (oh yeah, I think we forgot to tell you as soon as the conductor checked our tickets we headed for the Observation car and spent the entire trip surrounded by the view). We have learned to find seats in an observation car and camp-out for the duration or at least until dark. It is the place for great views, good conversation and you can find a stable surface for working on your blog. Bob met a French woman who professed to being an intuitive and had a dashing conversation talking about a book he's reading on his kindle and then in stepped a handsome male PHD theology professor from Italy who seemed to corner the market with an interest on the woman so Bob made his excuses and came and sat with me while the dance of the minds took place with the two European adventurers.

After Santa Barbara, the route to LA takes you through the suburban communities of Oxnard, Simi Valley, Van Nuys and finally, Los Angeles' Union Station where we gather our baggage and hail a cab for our first night in a hotel since the trip began. We would have stayed at an Inn or B&B in LA but we arrive late on Tuesday night and leave mid-day tomorrow for Palm Springs so we opted for convenience over desire. Bags in tow we head off for a cheap night on the road. Checked in to the Kyoto Grand Hotel and Gardens ( a steal at $150/night ) and ready to unwind a bit we go down to the bar where the bartendress was born in Connecticut and her family currently lives in Brewster. C'est un petit monde, n'est pas?

A Couple of Days With Good friends in San Francisco...

One of our oldest friends lives in Mill Valley, which sits at the base of Mt.Tamalpais, the highest peak in the Bay area. His home is located at the highest point where people are allowed to build and has a commanding view of the entire bay. It is a place where time standstill and your ability to listen to your inner self is most pronounced. It is a place of spectacular beauty and deep inner peace.


Because of the demands of our business, we had not visited this place in almost 15 years. The affect of seeing and being in this place again was deeply moving for Bob and I and for the next 2 days we did little else but 'kick it outta gear' and let this special place do its magic on us. We took the opportunity to do laundry and to go into San Francisco to catch Cirque D'Soliel's new show, 'Ovo' (pure magic), a Chinese dinner in Dirk's favorite restaurant in China Town and a walk through the Haight.

Next morning we woke when the mood struck us, had some tea and coffee, packed Tonka, Dirk's Labrador Retriever, a knapsack full of tennis balls and headed for Stinson Beach where we enjoyed a fantastic breakfast and a long walk in the warm sunshine playing catch with the the Dog. The dog won by a score of 15-2... We were skunked by a Labrador! Never work with Kids and dogs...

After Tonka wore us out, we headed up the coast a few miles to 'Muir Woods Ntl. Monument'. It isn't necessary to go all the way to 'Big Sur' to see breathtaking coastline when Stinson beach and the Marin headlands is just down the road. Muir Woods is certainly one of the most serene and grand spaces nature has ever shared with man.. Muir woods is a grove of ancient giant redwoods which create a magnificent sanctuary perfect for finding that point deep within each of us where we understand why it is necessary to protect the special places and the elemental role they play in putting us in touch with our inner selves. It is a place we all need to visit.


The rest of the time in Mill Valley was spent enjoying Dirk and his special home. It was a bitter sweet goodbye at Jack London Terminal in Oakland Tuesday morning as we again boarded the Coastal Starlight for the run South to Los Angeles.

The Coast Starlight - Seattle to San Francisco

Saturday, January 2, 2010, 8:30am; We catch a $10 taxi ride from The Gaslight Inn back to the King Street Amtrak Station. Plenty of time to check baggage, and grab a seat in the badly remuddled train room what must have been a magnificent building at one time has been

reduced to a drop-ceiling, Fluorescent lit holding pen. It's too bad since this is the beginning of the Coastal Starlight which is one of the most magnificent trains we had the pleasure to enjoy.

Maybe they understate the station so the trip will appear even more impressive.

But few train trips in this country can equal the Amtrak Coastal Starlight for scenery, service, food or comfort.

For information from Amtrak about the Coast Starlight click here: Amtrak's Coast Starlight

For information from Wikipedia about the Coastal Starlight's history and make-up click here: about Amtrak's Coast Starlight.

 

Our economy roomette was located at the end of the car and next to the 'Parlor Car' a space we would soon claim as our own for the duration of our first day heading South along the spectacular coast of the Pacific Northwest. The train left the station at 9:55am on the button and in moments we are twisting our way along Washington State's coves and inlets. Views of the islands fill the better part of the morning as we head further south, then before we cross the border into Oregon, we are treated to a bald eagle who gives us a show as if he's on the Amtrak payroll! Wow, just like something out of the Amtrak brochure. It just doesn't get any better than this!

The train continues South, moving inland from the coast into the part of Washington where your house came from. The imprint of the timber industry is obvious all around with huge mustering yards for assembling trains of building material for markets around the world.

Equally obvious is the effect of the global downturn in building. Houses along the tracks reflect better days of bygone times but now cars rust in lonely yards, businesses sit abandoned on empty streets. Hard times have come to this region of the country and seems to have been the only thing to have taken up residence in the last few years. Soon we are crossing the Willamette river separating Vancouver, Washington from Portland, Oregon . Portland was a dazzling city with lots of new, contemporary architecture on the skyline. It has been a few years since I visited Portland and it was wonderful then and appears to have only gotten better... plus, it wasn't raining...

After Portland we continue along the coast for a while longer then turn in-land for the run to Sacramento down California's central valley. Along the way as the sun sets, we get into snow country as our reservation is called for dinner. We are seated with a couple who boarded in Vancouver Washington. They are such a sketch, he is in construction and she slips me her card and puts her fingers to her lips... I discreetly read Amtrak Station Agent Looking around she whispers 37 years with Amtrak. We tell her what we are doing and she shares LOTS of good ideas and tips about riding the rails... They were on their way to visit their son who works at Berkley and slips us a CD he has just recorded (if you get the chance go to his web site and listen to Jacob Wolkenhauer's work .http://www.jacobwolkenhauer.com/  it was the perfect music to spend sitting by the window, reading and watching the scenery go by. You can even buy Jacob's work on ITunes at: ITunes Jacob's new CD Flux  ). 

The dinner was the best we had had on any route thus far. All the meals were freshly prepared and served piping hot. The conversation ran long and we promised to share the CD with a friend in Provincetown who owns a music store. Several times over the last few days we have enjoyed this very special gift and intend to stay in touch with these new, wonderful friends... and if we ever have a problem with Amtrak now know who to call!

Breakfast call was early and by 6:30am we are enjoying fresh hot pancakes, steaming coffee and tea, and home-made corned beef hash. Breakfast finished we headed back to pack and reclaim seats in the Parlor Car for the final approach to Oakland along the East Bay,

passing the 'Moth Ball' fleet and continuing all the way to Emeryville. We arrive in Oakland about 30 minutes late, grab our luggage and meet our friend, Dirk.

The Coastal Starlight deserves a 9 out of 10. Great service, good food, well maintained equipment, beautiful scenery, but the track bed needs attention.

Exploring Seattle (abridged)

12/31/09, 10:00am. We arrived in Seattle after two nights on the rails so we were ready for some terra firma under our feet. On the train en route to Seattle we called Trevor, the Innkeeper of the Gaslight Inn, so he would be expecting us, picked up our baggage, hopped in a taxi and sped off to the Capitol Hill area and the Gaslight Inn.

The Inn is a stately, craftsman-style home lovingly restored and meticulously maintained by her owners. Located in a residential neighborhood with friendly restaurants and stores just two blocks away, The Gaslight Inn has a rich palette of interior furnishings such as oak wainscoting, recessed oak paneling, and massive pocket doors separating its many public spaces. The owner's have lavished the property with very tasteful collections of Stickley-style furniture, native American artifacts, regional paintings and a magnificent collection of Murano-style local glass sculptures. Entering the Gasdlight Inn, Two parlor rooms flank a welcoming entrance foyer with an oversized round oak table replete with a large spray of fresh flowers. The paneled dining room with a magnificent quarter sawn oak dining table is accented with alcoves displaying local glass sculptures. The guest rooms are large and well appointed, with overstuffed leather chairs, comfortable beds, flat panel tv'S and attention to detail which reflects the host's many years of experience in the hospitality business. Although it was winter and the outside facilities were closed, the outside landscaped spaces reflect the same level of attention to detail as the rest of this grand Inn.

The Inn was everything we had hoped and more with a fresh, warm breakfast of croissants, scones, fruit jam, butter and piping hot coffee and a selection of teas.

Our room was located on the third floor with a picture window which perfectly framed the Downtown skyline and the Space Needle; something that came in very handy during the 'First-Night' celebration and fireworks set off from the needle.

After unpacking we decided to walk downtown to Pike's Street Market, located about 1.8 miles away (according to our trusty GPS, the famous and frequently maligned 'Lady in the Box'), grabbing our hat and coat we headed down Pine Street for a 30 minute walk to the Market. Did we mention we are in Seattle in winter and it is raining...But, I repeat myself. Seattle in winter is the very definition of rain. Doesn't rain a lot, just all the time according to the locals we met along the way. Thoroughly, uhhh moist from our walk, we find the market and wade in to do that most tourist of attractions, watch Fish throwing and the singing salesmen at the various fish stands who put on a kind of theatrical machismo show to locals who are actually buying beautiful seafood for their New Year's parties. This famous market is packed with great piles of beautiful vegetables, fruit, fresh pastry and breads, ubiquitous coffee stands (did we mention we were in Seattle???), Arts and crafts works reminiscent of the 60's, creatively arranged dried flower bouquets, jewelry, woodwork, crafts and much, much, more.. The whole place reminded us of Paris where produce and patisseries looked like works of art. Booth after booth of items for sale lined this entirely covered water front market which meanders through several buildings each with multiple floors.

The market and the entire harbor front was abuzz with activity even on this rainy and overcast but, perfectly normal Seattle day. According to the guide books, the locals can easily spot a tourist as the ones using umbrellas, whereas, locals wear hats and rain jackets. We walked around the markets window shopping and finally decided on a T-shirt gift for our friend, Dirk. (There is no shopping on this trip since there is no place to store the loot.) Where did we see that rest room? Oh yes, main building, next to the ramp where they throw the fish, then down one floor, on the left and just in time! Pike Street Market is also packed with small restaurants so we decided to try some authentic Chinese food enjoying a great lunch while watching a post-middle aged gentleman two floors below in the Tattoo parlor across the street receive a new tattoo on his derriere. The whole restaurant enjoyed a ring-side seat, so to speak, watching this gentleman's attempt at resolving his mid life crisis. In this experience we learned a valuable lesson... Always get a tattoo at a studio located in a windowless basement, especially if you intend to have it applied to a location not even your closet friends have seen.

Ever adventuresome, we decided to return to the Inn by walking back up Pike Street. Initially, it seemed less steep, but it must have been an optical illusion...or some cheap parlor trick. I think I mentioned we are in Seattle and it is raining? So walkers take note! Also, 1.8 miles downhill expands to something approaching 20 miles going uphill in the rain, when you are already soaked and full of a huge Chinese dinner. I don't know, maybe the 'Lady in the Box ' was speaking meters going downhill and changed to miles for the uphill grind back to the Gaslight Inn? By the Way, we could have taken the #10 Bus which would have delivered us to the Market and brought us straight back to the Inn but no, we're adventuresome... Actually, after 3 days on the train the exercise felt good, but the long nap afterward felt even better!

There are few luxuries in life which can compete with the opportunity for a well-deserved nap at a time convenient to all parties. Comfortable bed, no schedule, old movies on the TV, Bob downloading books on to his Kindle, characteristic Seattle weather outside our window, it was nice to relax in a warm room behind a wall of glass framing a most perfect view of the Seattle skyline.

When night fell and the lights of the city grabbed the skyline, it was like a siren's call to get us out again to enjoy the excitement and adventure of whatever the city presented. We explored the neighborhood for a few minutes before it began to rain again. Seattle, winter, Rain...remember? We found a local bar and were treated like royalty (“Helloooo, stranger, new in Town? Oh you have a guest house in Provincetown? I've been there... Are you near Tea dance?”). Nothing like meeting the locals to raise your spirits and to share New Years. As midnight approached we headed back to enjoy the most perfect view of the fire works spectacle that went on from the space needle. The fireworks were coordinated with a musical score delivered on TV and the radio which really added to the 'WOW' factor. It was an impressive show, but soon after it became clear that the more important show would soon be playing on the back of our eye lids as we welcomed 2010 with a resounding ZZZZZ.

New Year's Day 2010; We are in Seattle and it is, you guessed it, raining. We head out to find a New Year's buffet at one of the local eateries where, again, the 1960's atmosphere and lively young customers provided an interesting backdrop for breakfast and made us realize how living in Provincetown doesn't afford us the opportunity to be around younger people as much as we would like. They have a sense of energy that is intoxicating and bring back memories of lost years when we were that age.

By the time we finished brunch it was, well, you know, Seattle in winter... So we headed back to the Gaslight to pass the day just plain relaxing... reading, processing pictures, downloading books, watching old movies, napping... We were like two sloths hanging from the perfect tree!

We finished our stay in Sunny Seattle (gotcha!) with a superb dinner, again, in a Capital Hill restaurant full of positive energy and good cheer. We got a good nights sleep and were at the train station the next morning with plenty of time before our 9:45am train to San Francisco.

Despite the rain, we loved Seattle and plan to come back for an extended visit when we have a better hat and rain coat. If you compare rainfall in New York City with Seattle you will be surprised that they are roughly equivalent. The difference is in the amount per event. In NYC a storm might bring 1-2” of rain whereas in Seattle it might take a month of daily spritzing to reach the same amount.

However, NYC=frigid & SNOW in January, Seattle = a balmy 40° and rain...Hmmm, You don't have to shovel rain, do you? I've been needing a new rain coat!

Being in the hospitality business ourselves, we have to give a very hearty recommendation to Trevor and Steve and their crew at the Gaslight Inn. It is a class operation, reasonably priced, centrally located and a superb location to spend a night or a week.