Sunday the 7th Sept 4:00 am.I was asleep, when I was awakened by a violent juddering, and the train stopping abruptly. I thought that maybe it was antilock brakes or something, but they wouldn’t have done much…the train wasn’t on the track…the juddering was wheels on sleepers! Various explanations were offered by people, mainly that either the points hadn’t switched properly, or that one of the rails had collapsed. Either way, the three cars in front of mine were leaning at about 20 degrees, with mine just having jumped off the rails. Fortunately, we were only going about 20 mph, but the odd thing was that David was only commenting that evening about how surprised he was that the train didn’t come off the track more!
So here we are, in the Ramada Plaza Hotel, Lincoln, Nebraska. We’ve been put in the conference hall, and are sitting on a table of 8, which includes Ron and Jane Carter, from Dayton who are on vacation, and Deirdre and Tania, two Work America participants from Ireland. It’s just been announced that it might be a long wait!


8:15am… Finally, a coach arrives, and we board. At 9am, we stop for breakfast, paid for by Amtrak. A fantastic “all you can eat” buffet at a Truck Stop Diner called “Grandma Max’s” in Hastings, Nebraska. We all had more than we could eat, and took a plastic bag full back onto the coach! We then chatted with the other passengers, and ate. I tried to sleep but the coach was quite noisy, and it was very bright outside. And boring. I sampled the radio every now and then when I’d tired of watching endless trucks rumble by. Country music, or a preacher, usually called Jim, suggesting that you walk the path of righteousness with him, by taking advantage of his free video. Oh… and a mandatory minimum donation of $56. Plus handling. Praise the lord for credit cards!!!

Just as our nerves were fraying, we finally caught site of the Rockies in the distance. Before long, we were back in Denver, and having wangled a taxi to the airport from Amtrak, I went and collected the rental car. Upon arrival, I was asked if I’d mind taking a full-size, instead of a compact, at no extra charge. Oh…no thanks, I think I’ll just stick with the Nissan Micra. Duh!
I oozed out of the car park in the 3 litre V6 Ford Taurus, and met up with Tanya, Deirdre and David at the La Quinta Motel, where they’d been playing Nintendo, whenceupon, we hit the town. We were in luck as it was the town event week, so we watched some bands, and went for a meal. At this point, I observed that there seemed to be a large number of gentlemen sporting moustaches, and funny leather caps and chains, and mincing a lot. And then our waiter asked us what entertainment we were seeking… “Gay bar, Sir?”. We continued to strut in a heterosexual way along the sidewalk, glad of the female company, and found our way to a bar where some funky jazzmen were doing a jam session, after which we decided to take a drive around Denver, and get lost for 66 miles.

Next morning, we parted company with the chicks, and started out for the rockies. Driving through some spectacular passes, with me making full use of the Taurus’s roadholding capabilities, we ploughed our way towards our first main destination…..the Grand Canyon.

We awoke at 5am, having spent the night in Durango. We really needed to press on, given the time frame to which we were working. As we got near the Canyon, we entered Indian territory, with numerous roadside stalls selling blankets etc. There were lots of little mini-canyons around, but then we hit The Big one. There was a $20/car entrance fee, but it was worth it. The size and depth is incredible, and so was the number of English people there. We fired off ample amounts of film, and after being constantly reminded of the shortness of time by David, we pressed on.

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After a couple of hundred miles, we saw signs for the Hoover Dam. Well, if Beavis and Butthead can do it, so can we! It was at this point that personalities really started to conflict. There was some embarrassing shouting during which David said fuck frequently and loudly, but I won, and we went on a tour of the Dam.. Enough concrete in that there thing to build a highway from the East Coast to the West coast of America. If that sort of thing impresses you.

Las Vegas was our last point of call that day. We arrived just as light was fading, and it really was an experience no-one should miss. We parked the car, for free, and went the explore. We hit the MGM Grand, the biggest Hotel in the World, and as we entered, I must confess I have never seen anything on such a scale. Thousands upon thousands of slot-machines. The lights, the sounds, the money…the chicks! David went and put a quarter in, and got $2 back, while I went and lost a dollar! I was surprised at how dirt cheap everything was…rooms, food, souvenirs etc. OK, so they make their money from the suckers who plays then slots, but good value for the astute traveller anyhow! Las Vegas is definitely not one to miss!

We left the glittering city, and headed back into the dessert. We drove for about three more hours, passing through places like “Nevada Landing”. These are weird places. 30 miles of desert, and then suddenly a pool of lights with maybe 2 or three HUGE gambling palaces and a gas station, and then…nothing. Only in America…

We stopped the night in the middle of know-where, and then rose early the next morning heading for LA. As we passed over the final mountain into yet another enormous plain, we saw a brown haze, and realised it must be the smog; we had plenty of time to savour the air as we sat in McDonalds surrounded by lush palms, and a policemen’s convention. Then the real sightseeing began! We wound our way up through the narrow and intricate streets of the Hollywood hills, until we were as near to the Hollywood sign as it’s possible to get, and took too many photos. But again, time was pressing us along so, we drove to the junction of Hollywood and Vine,, and headed through Compton. I put the radio ion, and I have to say, West Coast radio is the best I’ve heard yet. Although record producers seem obsessed with the use of vocoders, that little box of tricks that makes a voice sound a little bit “Metal Mickey”. Remember…”California, knows how to party!” After coming out of the area alive, we drove down long Beach, and I stopped to dip my fingers into the pacific…just because!

Taking the highway out of LA, we soon hit the desert, which gave me the chance to eat up those miles.
I accelerated to 90, hit the cruise control button, and remained at that speed for about 2 hours…we really needed to be going some, as we had to be getting a bus out of Phoenix at 4.55am on Thursday. Today was Wednesday, and we still had 300 miles to go at 6pm. We started to hit desert town, and these were some of the most fantastic little Oasis’. Quaint towns, filled with lush palm-lined roads broke the monotony of the desert every once in a while, and it wasn’t long before we were in Phoenix, tired but grateful that we’d arrived, and amazed that we’d kept to this gruelling schedule. At this point, David took the train tickets out, had a look at them , and said “OOPS! We’re three days early!”. I’d not considered murdering a member of my family before, but at this point it almost seemed a reasonable thing to do. As I sat there, I realised all the things we could have done, and all the things we need not have done. I was risking both life and licence by keeping up speeds of over 110 through the desert for 20 minutes at a time, because I thought we were under huge pressure. None of those embarrassing shouting matches were necessary. We could have actually spent more than an hour in the Grand Canyon. Or seen so many more places. Or have had more than 6 hours sleep each night. The deal was that David was in charge of the itinerary, and I was driving all the way, as David, age 24, still can’t be bothered to get a driving licence. I’d done my part, and I felt more than just a little bit let down. After making sure that he knew how peeved I was at arriving 2 days early in the hottest city in America, we checked out of the 85 degree 11pm heat, and into a Motel6, and fell asleep.

We awoke to see clouds forming in the sky to the west, and flicked on The Weather Channel, to see an Emergency Bulletin Notice, and warnings to stay inside, as a “Monster Monsoon” was soon to hit. So we got into the car, and headed towards the clouds. Well, we’d paid the CDW, so what the heck! When the rains came, they REALLY came! Most of the roads were flooded 4″ deep, but occasionally we’d drive through water as deep as the bottom off the door sills (not by chance, either!). The engine got flooded, but started again before it got too embarrassing. On arrival back in the Motel, we put the local news on to see shots of some guy water-skiing across the local park! Later that night, I saw the best ever episode of the Simpsons yet. I missed the first couple of minutes, but I think it was called “Nightmare Cafeteria” or something, a Halloween special, where Homer’s toaster kept making him pop-up in other dimensions…you had to see it.

Nest day, we drove into Sedona, a tourist trap about 150 miles from Phoenix, noted for its stunning rock formations…oh, and the worlds only McDonalds with Teal arches instead of the usual Gold Arches. Worth 300 miles of anyone’s time, I’d say…. We dropped off the rental car, it having done 2500, and spent the last night in the motel.

At 6am on Thursday, we found ourselves at Phoenix railway station, waiting for a connecting bus to Tucson, upon arrival at which we boarded the train, which at that stage was only 20 mins late. Desert passed for hundreds of miles, and then the first announcements of delays started coming over the PA. After a while the cumulative delays were 8 hours, as Amtrak abandoned all hope of continuing the service, and put us up in a Hotel. This was good in a way, as we were in need of a shower, and bad as we had to entirely scrap going to Jacksonville, Florida.

The hotel was the Quality Inn in New Orleans, and was, itself very nice. The problem is, New Orleans isn’t, Not the sort of place you’d want to walk around alone at night…or day, for that matter. And the taxi cabs…UGH! We offered some English lasses, with whom we’d been chatting on the train, the opportunity of a room, and so they stayed with us.

The alarm call went at 5.15am, meaning a total rest time of 3 hours. We said goodbye to the girlies, and caught a cab to the station. While waiting for the train, we saw an Amish family. We’d seen some Amish before, in the World Trade Centre. I’m not sure what to make of them. They seem so pure and sweet in their 18th C dress, consisting of straw hats and bonnets, and long flowery dresses (for the girls, obviously!). Even the haircuts are the same as they always have been.

The train we boarded was of the single decker type. Although not a swish as the bi-level trains, each car had 17 video monitors showing recent movies, and a music channel which played those easy listening favourites which are just SO bad, you just have to listen!

Everything seemed to be back on track, if you’ll excuse the pun, when we came to a halt. Then the announcement was made; 6 wagons of a good train had left the track about 15 miles ahead, and there was no way round… :(

This is what had to happen next. They took the loco off the front of our train, and brought it round to the rear, so we could go backwards to the nearest railroad crossing, where buses would take us onto Manchester. Our Northbound became the Southbound, and vice-versa, with the train going in the other direction. So now we’re back northbound with a 5 hour delay. We passed through Atlanta, GA, at about midnight, while a woman in the seat in front raved about it…but I was just SO TIRED! The morning came, and we passed through some very English looking landscape. A prominent feature of the flora around these parts seems to be some stuff called Kudzu, an erosion control plant originally from Japan, but mistakenly brought to the US, and gone totally wild over everything.

Tuesday , 12:15pm. 21and a half hours until I fly home. I’m so looking forward to it in one way, but disappointed not to have had longer to see it all. As for my reflections on my 3 months and three days here, one things for sure…I’m more cynical than ever. Camp Greylock has shown me that honest hard work really doesn’t pay. America is a sharp divide between the dull and gullible, and the sharp money-makers who take advantage of them. Oh, and British Exchange workers, who camp directors assume fall into the former category! Do I sound bitter, perchance?….

So now it’s just one more night in NYC, and then up to Newark, New Jersey, to catch the plane outta here!

We arrived at Penn Station at 6:30pm, 5 hours late of course (wouldn’t have it any other way!). We then called over 30 hostels and hotels in NYC, only to find them all full. We even asked the Amtrak outreach centre, as well as Amtrak themselves, if they’d at least pay part of our cost towards a hotel room. While declining to give us any help with a room, they did give us $150 worth of pizza and beer between the 7 of us! We finally booked into the Holiday Inn Plaza at JFK airport, where we’d booked a $210 room, where we consumed our beverages and sustenance. We stayed up past 3am eating and drinking, until I finally fell asleep with Katie and Julia, while Chris, Steve and Claire slept in the other bed, and David, never one to partake in this sort of thing, slept on the floor.

The next day brought goodbyes, and the half hour bus ride to Newark. I boarded Virgin flight VS002, and sunk back into my chair to enjoy the excellent food, drink and entertainment system. Or I would have, except for the fact that a hyperactive Welsh girl sat next to me, intent on getting totally mullered, as it was her birthday. And she did. And so did I. And then woke up having missed breakfast. D’oh! We landed smoothly, and I was so excited as I stepped of the plane.

A brief wait for baggage, and then I was on the next Railair Link home. It was so nice to see drizzle, and to be called “mate”, and to be on the correct side of the road. So nice to be back on trains that run almost to time, and manage to stay on the rails (although a nasty incident near Southall involving a gods train the next day slightly took the edge off that one…). And to drink proper tea. And eat baked beans. And have paper money with different sizes for each denomination. And… oh well. There’s a lot of reasons why I prefer England to America.

And will I go back?

Of course!

Tags: america,travelogue,usa
Categories: america, travelogue