20 Hours On The City Of New Orleans

 Sitting in the dining car of an Amtrak train, finishing up a hot dinner with a cold beer and a brownie for dessert, I was somewhat surprised to find myself having a good time. The car swayed back and forth gently, like one of those fancy dinner cruise yachts that are big enough to feel stable, but small enough to remind you that the water is still a lot more powerful. A few other passengers dined nearby, but there were a few empty tables and still more people back in their cabins in no particular rush to make it in time for the 9:30pm dinner cutoff. The overwhelming thought going through my head was just how nice the experience was. 

When I finished eating, I stacked all the refuse onto my plate and nudged it toward the edge of the table, then pulled out a book and sat there reading for a little while. A conductor came by to clear the table and asked if I’d be ready to have my bed set up soon. 

“I think I can do it myself,” I said. 

“Well,” he replied, “There’s a bit of a trick to it, so I usually like to help people out.”

The view from breakfast in the dining car

An hour or so later, I found the conductor again, and asked him to give me a hand. I had tried by myself, and he was right. There’s a bit of a trick to it. 

The train continued rocking all night as we traversed down through the midwest towards New Orleans, making whistle stops along the way. Even with people getting on and off, a curtain on my cabinette window gave me some privacy and the traffic was low enough that I could sleep just fine. The cabinette (Amtrak’s word for a 2 person cabin) consisted of two reclining chairs that fold flat to make a single bed. A second bed folds down from the ceiling. In terms of long distance travel, it felt luxurious, like a first class seat on a trans-oceanic flight. It had an outlet, light switches that worked, a little temperature control for heat that didn’t seem to work, and even a tiny closet to hang up a coat or pants if you immediately change into shorts like I did. 

On top of all that, you can get up at almost any time to go sit in the aforementioned dining car. During three specified time windows, you can get a hot meal. There is no fasten seatbelt sign. There may be airplanes or buses where you can get similar amenities, but they must not be at a price point I’m willing to pay. 

The view from my cabinette as we crossed the bayou into New Orleans

The trip took 20 hours start to finish, or 21 if you count transit to and from the train stations on either end. That’s still a far cry from the maybe 6 hours it would take via plane, but I figure that if you’re gonna take a morning flight and get there in the afternoon, there’s not that much difference to just leaving the night before and sleeping on the train. Moreover, the lack of security checkpoints and much, much looser limits on luggage make the train easier to get to on time and a little simpler to travel on. 

At the end of my journey, I packed up all the stuff that I had taken out of my backpack over the course of it: a book, toiletries, sandals, a notebook, headphones, etc. I put my bag on my back and did a quick pat down to make sure my phone, wallet, and sunglasses were all in their preordained spots. They were. I stepped out of the train, well rested and ready for a fun weekend in New Orleans. Almost immediately I realized that the pen that lives in my chest pocket was not there, and I remembered exactly where I had left it in the cabinette. Very quickly, I turned around and asked the conductor--the same one who had set up my bed--if I could get back on to fetch it. He told me of course I could grab it, as if years of post 9/11 air travel should not have conditioned me to be deathly afraid of turning back on after deboarding mass transit. 

It shouldn’t have. 

I suppose I'm not saying that rail is the be all end of American leisure transportation, but I will say that I'm going to check the website every time I'm going on a trip.