Riding the Rails

I'm on the final leg of my trip by train (finally!) after visiting my mother in Maine for a surgery. Currently, the trip is sold out and I'm placed next to a sleeping stranger who keeps scratching at his unmentionables with dogged determination.

I love traveling by train, despite the occasional discomfort of a neighbor with an itch. I have never once encountered a rude or surly attendant. Even people at the Amtrak ticket counters are friendly and helpful. The seats are comfortable, restrooms and food are usually available, and the gentle rocking movement of the cars puts me almost immediately to sleep.

Trains provide an excellent way to see the country and, bonus, you can even drink on them. Many of the dining cars sell beer, wine and cocktails in addition to food such as sandwiches, chips and hot dogs. The prices are higher than they would be elsewhere but they aren't movie theater outrageous so you can still make your trip on a budget.

Some helpful hints for anyone travelling by train:

1. Learn as much about your layover stations in advance as possible. The Amtrak website will give you loads of info and the customer service representatives will tell you even more by phone. This way, you can plan your trip. I was once stuck on a cross-country train with no cash and never once stopped at a station that had an ATM. Needless to say, I was incredibly hungry by the time I arrived. It's useful to know if you can leave your car there for a long period of time or if you need to be there during certain hours to pick up your tickets.

2. Don't be a tool. Don't race to be the first in line. The train will not over-book seats. Even if you're first and claim two seats for your own, it doesn't ensure that you'll get to sit by yourself. They will make you have a neighbor if the train is sold out. In fact, claiming the seat next to you with your belongings is another way to be a huge tool. Try to keep your detritus confined to the single seat you occupy and the racks above your head. This is particularly true if, like me, you plan to sleep through hours of your journey. Nothing is more stressful for someone getting on at some quiet rural stop in the middle of the night than to try to find a seat on a heavily booked train. You obvously don't want to do it or you wouldn't have pushed to be the first in line so don't make life difficult for those boarding at the in-between stops.

3. Get to know your fellow travellers. Smile. Say, "Hello." Offer to band together if you overhear that someone is transferring with you. I've had some of my most meaningful conversations on buses, trains and ferries. I once met a woman on a train from LA to Boston who had led a biography-worthy life travelling around the world. We talked for nearly the entire 3 day trip which made the time go faster and created for me a most pleasant and warm memory of the journey. Another time, at a stop in Maine, I offered to take a group of people making the arduous transfer from Boston's North to Back Bay stations with a ride on the T. The group swelled to ten by the time we arrived. Fearless, I waved them all on, walked them through buying a Charlie Ticket and then instructed them on the how's of riding the subway. Some of my party had to immediately board another train but those of us who lingered had someone with whom to talk and laugh. "Knowing" someone at your stops makes the trip considerably more pleasant. And, one woman who was off to build Habitat for Humanity houses in the deep south even forced $5 upon me as a thank you.

4. Don't be a tool, part 2. Don't talk on your cell phone. Or talk loudly to other passengers. Even if you speak in a low voice, everyone in your immediate area can hear you. On this trip, in particular, I listened to the intimate details of at least half a dozen people's conversations. I now am privy to the salacious intimacies of one woman's Boston booty call, how one man on the way to New York feels about everyone at his work place and learned that one young woman spends an alarming amount of time at an Albany bar both drunk and in the company of strange men. I don't want to know this about you, no one does, so please save it for less public venues. If you're lonely, make a friend for the trip, but please keep your voice down. Three in the morning is not the best time to socialize. And if you have to ask questions of the attendants while everyone else is sleeping, do so in a whisper lest someone like me harbor murderous thoughts about you.

5. Be generally courteous and prepared. Have your tickets ready when you board the train and keep them out until the attendant comes through to collect them. Everyone will find their seat when they first board and then the train will start moving. The attendant will come through shortly thereafter to collect tickets. Arrive at the station at least 30 minutes before your train leaves. Don't litter or stuff your refuse in the back of the seat in front of you. Don't cut in line. Don't block the exits or aisles. All those things you hate that other people do, don't do them yourself.

6. And, finally, as much as you might love your mother's sauerkraut and brats, try not to consume them on the train. One man's delicacy is another man's upset and smells have this amazing way of lingering in a train car. To that end, make sure food is stored properly. I once made the mistake of throwing a container of brownies from my mom loose in the overhead bin. The wind during that trip just whipped the train around and my brownies wound up all over the floor and my head. Liquid spills are even worse.

Read more after the jump.

New Years in the Dirty South

Our trip to Memphis is currently without photos, despite my fervent pledge. I'm told they are on their way.

The trip, itself, was exhausting: the 12 hour drive from Detroit, the overnights in uncomfortable beds, the early waking time, the big, bloating meals. Still, there were highlights (and lowlights). For starters, Remy's father turned a monumental 60 years old on the 31st. We gathered, all of his children and their spouses, around the dinner table and had a celebratory meal, then played Apples To Apples. There was the traditional singing of "Happy Birthday" gifts were presented, stories were told, cake was consumed all by the solid and respectable hour of 9pm.

Remy's younger sister had also recently turned the similarly monumental age of 21 and declared that she wanted to experience drunkeness in the company of her older brothers. Though I wanted nothing more than to curl up with the dog on the sofa and watch the ball drop through heavy-lidded blurry vision, I relented and offered to be the designated driver for a trip down to Beale Street.

Having not lived in Memphis for seven years, I'm constantly impressed with the rapid change the city has seen. The downtown, abandoned and lonely in my memory, is now vibrant and full of life. The once nascent trolley lines now sweep in all directions, into the previously "tough" parts of downtown that now house art galleries and nightclubs and bars.

The same awe struck me when walking down Beale Street which was full of life. Handy Park, once littered with trash and homeless, was sparkling clean with a new amphitheater and bricked entrance.

Read more after the jump.