18 May 2008
Offtrack with Amtrak
19/05/08 09:57
It is
two in the morning, and we have just arrived in New
York after a hard day's travel. We are in Manhattan,
somewhere between Fifth and Sixth Avenue, in a quiet
two-bedroom apartment just above the boiler room. The
heat makes it feel somewhat like New Orleans in here,
but luckily our host John seems as cool as the late
night beer he treated us to. It will not be long
before we each pass out on either the comfy red couch
or the large silvery air mattress - so we have
decided to let our travel notes speak for themselves.
16:05
- We have
boarded a train to New York after some ten days in
Providence. Last night was a big night out with our
hosts Luc and Nate, so today is somewhat hung over.
Not least because of the greasy spoon we had this
morning in downtown Woonsocket. Above and beyond the
usual eggs, bacon and fries, it included the Rhode
Island specialty known as Wieners. They are tiny hot
dogs plastered with cheese and meat sauce, and
sprinkled with steamed onions and pickles. They are
best served fresh off the underarm of the chef, who -
if he is any good one - should be able to balance
some fifteen or sixteen at a time. In recent years,
however, this number has decreased drastically as
health commissioners have forced chefs not to stack
the wieners any higher than their elbows.
16:19 - The panagraph just fell off our train! If you do not know what a panagraph is, do not worry. The lady on the intercom seemed a little confused about it, too. Apparently, it is the unit that connects the train to the power lines above the tracks. In other words, having the panagraph fall off the top of your train is just like having the engine drop out of the bottom of your car. You just do not go any further. You are stuck. All you can do is go back down the highway, and see if you can find whatever remains of your engine. The steward outside our window does not seem to be in too much luck, though. And pardon us for asking, but what the fuck is he going to do with it if he finds it? Duct tape it back on?
18:00 - It seems that they have finally given up on the panagraph. A rescue train from Boston should be down within the hour. It is hot as hell in here, and the hangovers are getting worse. They are out of water in the service coach, and with the electricity gone they cannot even brew us a decent cup of coffee. We have had to call our upcoming host in New York, and tell him that we might be getting in after bedtime. People on the train are still relatively calm, though their sense of humor is obviously being stretched, and isolated outbreaks of bitching have occured - especially among young mothers and the elderly. We might be adding disgruntled Danes to the list in a little while.
19:45 - The rescue train from Boston is finally pulling out of the station. We are about four hours late at this point, and we will probably be looking at 10 or 11 pm before we hit New York. If everything goes well, that is. Apparently, the repairs on the othertrain is causing signal disturbences all along the power line. Every now and then the lights will go out in our carriage, and the train will slow down to some ten or fifteen miles an hour. A cold beer would be really nice. Served with an armful of wieners and a power plug. We are running out of battery here ...
16:19 - The panagraph just fell off our train! If you do not know what a panagraph is, do not worry. The lady on the intercom seemed a little confused about it, too. Apparently, it is the unit that connects the train to the power lines above the tracks. In other words, having the panagraph fall off the top of your train is just like having the engine drop out of the bottom of your car. You just do not go any further. You are stuck. All you can do is go back down the highway, and see if you can find whatever remains of your engine. The steward outside our window does not seem to be in too much luck, though. And pardon us for asking, but what the fuck is he going to do with it if he finds it? Duct tape it back on?
18:00 - It seems that they have finally given up on the panagraph. A rescue train from Boston should be down within the hour. It is hot as hell in here, and the hangovers are getting worse. They are out of water in the service coach, and with the electricity gone they cannot even brew us a decent cup of coffee. We have had to call our upcoming host in New York, and tell him that we might be getting in after bedtime. People on the train are still relatively calm, though their sense of humor is obviously being stretched, and isolated outbreaks of bitching have occured - especially among young mothers and the elderly. We might be adding disgruntled Danes to the list in a little while.
19:45 - The rescue train from Boston is finally pulling out of the station. We are about four hours late at this point, and we will probably be looking at 10 or 11 pm before we hit New York. If everything goes well, that is. Apparently, the repairs on the othertrain is causing signal disturbences all along the power line. Every now and then the lights will go out in our carriage, and the train will slow down to some ten or fifteen miles an hour. A cold beer would be really nice. Served with an armful of wieners and a power plug. We are running out of battery here ...
