Watching the scenery go by from the train while listening to the ipod is surreal.  The music adds a layer of melancholy that invites a sense of lonliness Im not used to feeling.  There are lots of people on the train, 12 in my car that will hold only 14.  I have a single seat by the window, having moved from a double to allow a couple to ride together.

I can’t say enough about the staff.  From Toronto to the US border, the employees belong to Via Rail.  Once at the border, the train becomes fully Amtrak, complete with an American crew.  Only one person remains the same, that of the café car attendant.  He’s very nice, but a little timid.  While we were stopped at the border I asked for a cup of ice and he had to get permission, as the café car was not yet open.  Permission granted, I returned to my seat.

At Union Station in Toronto, my wonderful husband gave me $10 to tip the RedCap (porter) and that got me not only help with my baggage, but paved the way for me to board first, and being in Business Class I was actually truly the first on the train.  I will admit to feeling a tad superior.  The accommodations are wonderful and there is no “cattle call” boarding.  The car holds only 14 (it’s half of a full car, the other half being the café car) so even fully booked, Business Class would not be crowded.  It is set up 2/1 where the coach is 2/2.  The seats must be significantly smaller and since my butt is not, business class is pretty much the only option for anything longer than an hour or two.

There have been few pretty views so far.  The Niagara River was lovely, and occasionally there is farmland or forrest, but much has also been along highways or through warehouse and factory districts.

5:40pm and we’re pulling out of Utica, NY.  A lovely couple from Australia are across the aisle from me and behind them are two chatty women, also Australian.  Somewhere in their travels they have hooked up with the woman behind me and her husband (who is seated behind her).  The three of them do NOT shut up.  Thank God for earphones and the iPod.  Blondie back there apparently is a Texan now living in Maryland, and she sells some product made from Teatree Oil to supplement her retirement income.  Gah.  Followed by the Australian chatterers singing, I kid you not, Almost Heaven, West Virginia, brought on by a discussion with Teatree Texan about the Shennandoah River.  I resisted the urge to scream, “The Shenandoah does not run through West Virginia.”

Later in the ride she informed me, with delight, that we would be on the same train to Philly.  Fortunately, that train had two large business class cars and I managed to avoid her.  I also managed to avoid the RedCaps—not by choice.  So there I was in Penn Station in blistering heat with two suitcases and a huge backpack, purse and cane,  with no clue what to do next.    I winged it and somehow managed to get on the right train.

Once in Philadelphia, I’m pretty sure I got screwed by the cabby.  He claimed it would cost  $65 to get me to my hotel across the river in New Jersey.  I had already priced it online and knew it should cost $32.  I told him I would give him $60 if he could get his visa machine working.  We finally made a deal for $50 and he didn’t run the meter.  He did, however, carry all three of my large bags up a flight of narrow stairs to my hotel room.  I figure we both got what we wanted.

Hotel is awful and I’m here too late to order pizza.  There are no ice machines.  Fortunately I had prepaid my room for late arrival as it was the LAST room to be had south of Trenton.  And it was cheap.  So now it’s 230 in the morning and I’m starting to cool down thanks to a wonderful air conditioner.  I’m going to finish my warm root beer and have some tuna salad and crackers and hit the bed.

Tomorrow a new adventure—getting my rental  car and changing hotels.  And figuring out how to purchase virtually everything on the visa since I’m a bit cash short thanks to the cab ride.  Thank goodness for a noon checkout time!