We
are on a train and stopped in Albuquerque, New Mexico where the
temperature between the inside of the
train and outside is vast. We were out walking along the platform,
looking at the array of Indian trinkets, blankets and the like and as
we were doing this it was over ninety degrees.
The journey, so
far, has been entertaining. The priority of time on this train has
taken a back seat to the attention to detail, the running of the
system and the pleasure of travel.
There is no
wi-fi on the train so I will write this in bits over this journey
through America from Los Angeles to Chicago; unless anything
extraordinary happened between Chicago and New York I won't write
about that part of the journey as I've already written On
a Train in England in March, or so, of this year.
The first thing
we heard last night when we got on was a message over the speaker
system from Chip the lounge car attendant telling us he was delayed
slightly getting his groceries and had a problem with his fridge and
asked us to give him a break and that he would be starting shortly
with a bill of fare which includes coffee, beer, pizza, burgers and
potato chips.
After a little
while he came on again to say he was open which meant that everybody
on the train went to Chip the lounge car attendant and lined up; his
little lounge car is like a mini Seven Eleven – maybe about 30 feet
long with passengers seats on either side – so you can imagine the
hustle and bustle.
On the menu it
said that they had 'freshly brewed' decaf coffee but when I went
there afterwards he told me they were out of decaf!!!
After that we
heard from 'Jackie in the Diner' – she was asking people if they
wanted to make dinner
reservations;
she would say 'this is Jackie in the diner – would anybody wishing
to book for dinner make your reservations now.' This voice would come
on at various intervals asking people to come in for dinner, lunch or
whatever.
Then Chip from
the lounge car would come on again telling us he was going on a break
so if anybody wanted anything they needed to hurry up and come and
get it.
Things were
swinging along and we were travelling then Jackie came on the speaker
system again and wanted to know if people could hear her as the
system didn't appear to be working. Chip from the lounge car came on
to say he could, in fact, hear her.
When he said
this a woman, sitting close by, used her mobile phone and speaking
quite loudly in a New York accent said 'This is Dolores from
Delaware; I need to speak to Mr Jefferson.'
This sounded
interesting but Jackie came on the speaker system again saying 'I
can't hear you at all, Chip; you're not coming through.'
Then again
'This is Delores from Delaware! Can you put me through?'
Then 'This is
Chip from the lounge car – I am back from my break; if you want
bagles or drinks now is the time to come.
Whilst this was
going on over the speaker system a ticket collector interrupted all
by saying he was coming around for tickets and 'don't forget to sign
them in the top left hand corner.'
Each time he
took a ticket from someone who hadn't signed it he would say 'I need
you to put your autograph in the top left hand corner.'
Jackie came on
again 'This is Jackie in the diner – am I coming through?'
'I can hear
you, Jackie' said Chip from the lounge car.'
'This is
Delores from Delaware – is Mister Jefferson there?”
The ticket
inspector approached us puffing and blowing after climbing some
stairs 'those stairs are killing me' he said.
'This is Jackie
from the diner; I will be coming around to take dinner reservations,
starting with the sleeping section and then couch.'
I sat
reflecting about my years in America knowing that they are
contemplating an all electric super duper rail system which will get
you from point A to point B faster than a speeding bullet and wishing
they wouldn't do it as it would spoil this lot.
The food in the
lounge car was ropey to say the least but the food in the diner was
excellent and
reasonably
priced.
There are four
seats at each table so you are forced to face the other two people
which more or less forces you to communicate with them.
On the first
evening at dinner we sat with a Navajo professor and his wife; he was
quite famous as he was the first Indian professor – I don't know if
he was the first in the state or the country but he told us he had
celebrated his 67th birthday
recently by walking down one side of the Grand Canyon, along the flat
bit and up the other side; he was a very fit looking 67 years of age
and he told us he does 10K runs and used to be a baseball pitcher. I
don't know if he was a major league pitcher or just played at college
as we never got that far but they were getting out at Flagstaff,
Arizona the following morning at 4:30.
The next
morning at breakfast we met Tom and Jenny from Victorville California
famous for the place where Roy Rogers used to live and have his
western museum; I remember his horse, trigger, nearly stepping on me
at the stage door after I saw Roy Rogers live at a theatre.
Tom and Jenny
were also an interesting couple having cycled the world, by all
accounts, and regular train travellers.
In the
Observation Car I met another Navajo Indian but this one lived on the
reservation. As we sat watching New Mexico flash by he pointed out
lots things about the area and showed me some black stones which he
said were from the top of 'that mountain' which exploded with the
help of the volcano hundreds of millions of years ago. He went on to
say that they used the black stones (he had a name for them which I
have forgotten) in their sweat lodges.
He was going
from Gallup, New Mexico, to Albuquerque to meet his son; he was
sending his son a message using the modern equivalent of the smoke
signal; his Blackberry.
He said he was
proud of his son as he took the decision to leave the reservation and
set up by himself 'abroad.' He said he had lived 'abroad' for a short
time – abroad was anywhere off the reservation.
Indeed it is
abroad as the reservations have their own sovereignty.
Later that day,
Saturday, we had dinner with two people on their way back to live in
Chicago from Los Angeles – we wished them well on their journey and
they did the same for us.
Before we met
them for dinner – in the usual accidental way – a man two seats
in front of us was
getting leery;
he had been drinking all day and his voice was sounding very horse.
Whilst we were
away he called everybody names and started shouting; someone called
the conductor who came and told him off; he sat in his seat for a
moment but when she went he started again. Then the same things again
but this time he was really screaming so the conductor, a young
woman, threw him into his chair, called the cops and they threw him
off the train and into gaol somewhere; we were oblivious to all this
as we were at dinner.
Chip in the
lounge car came on the loud speaker as we pulled in to Fort Madison,
Iowa, to say that he was running out of food in the lounge car; he
was out of bagles, pizzas and most of the cheese and ham sandwiches.
As the train
pulled out of Fort Madison the train suddenly stopped; we had run
over somebody. We were travelling at about 15 - 20 mph and apparently
the person was killed. We don't know anything about it at the moment
but within two or three minutes a cop car arrived and scaled a six
feet fence outside; then he was told where the body was by some kids
outside.
The latest news
is a few young guys tried to cross the tracks and the last one was
hit and killed by the train; there's no need to describe what we know
or what I saw but you know what train wheels are like; they were all
in their twenties.
As we sit here
waiting to move a voice in the background is heard: 'This is Delores
from Delaware; I am just north of the train station in Fort Madison,
Iowa. Today a man was killed . . . .”
As if oblivious
to everything, whilst this was going on, another voice was heard '
this is Chip in the lounge car – I'm just back from my break.'
July
4th New York.
There is our train engine resting in Chicago after the two day journey from Los Angeles.
Cops look at the body whilst paramedics call the coroner.
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