New York V

Apologies - it's been a while, I know. But with the election over, and spending all my time on touristy activities in New York, it has been really hard to think of things worth writing about.

Some of the less touristy things I have been up to include raking up the leaves of a Quaker cemetery in Brooklyn, accompanying someone to a walk in clinic (she had tonsillitis), going to Whole Foods Market nearly every day, mainly to stock up on Dorset cereals, watching every Arsenal match and attempting to get into running (but have now hurt my knee and given up I'm afraid).

Mostly I don't feel like writing about New York because I reckon most of you know the city better than I do, so there doesn't seem much point. It's wonderful here, but occasionally there are things that get me down.

One in particular. Changing trains on the subway I saw a young man, about my age, begging. There are a lot of beggars on the subway (more than in London) but this guy was even more tragic than the rest of them. He held a sign, strung over his upper arms with string, and resting on his chest. It said, essentially, "I lost my arms in an accident and am trying to collect money in order to get prosthetic limbs".

The sheer barbarity of such a rich country being unwilling to collectively provide for this man to get new arms - to enable him to work! - was one thing that freaked me out. But the other was that I averted my eyes and jumped on my train. It was only once I had sat down that I realised my heart was racing. And that I should have stopped, spoken to him and given him some money. (If I were a half way committed journalist or blogger - I would also have taken a photo of his sign). Being so constantly assailed (and it's the same in London) I avoid even thinking about these things until it's too late to do anything. For this I am ashamed, and am trying to do differently until I leave.

New York II

Apologies all, I was meant to travel south to Birmingham, Alabama today to tell you something about what people are thinking in areas which didn't vote overwhelmingly for Barack Obama. And I missed my train. And (of course) there's only one per day. I might yet make it, but not for now I'm afraid. Many apologies.

Thank goodness for North Dakota public radio

I did a very stupid thing, which was to book myself to be on a train during the third, and final, presidential debate. I spent a while wondering what could be done - and was seriously tempted just to plagirise Oliver Burkeman because I have enjoyed his coverage so much.

Instead, I resurrected my radio and after repeatedly finding nothing but static and some unexpected tribal drumming, I managed to find Prairie Public Radio which was running a rather too kind interview with a local politician in run up to the debate.

I had visions of gathering a crowd of politically minded train travellers to the loungue car, and even got permission from the attendant (who sang to us over the intercom five times a day to remind us of the treats she had available) to set up a listen party in her car, but reception was poor and no one had come along to join me so I headed back to my cabin.

On the way back I ran into Rebecca, who had been keen, and Nandan, who she'd met over dinner, and the two of them came back to my (extremely small) cabin, where we cradled and cajoled the radio to try to get better reception. It was maddening until we came into Stanley and transmission got strong enough to be able to hear anything properly. Towards the end of the debate, Rebecca went to get some fresh air when we stopped at Minot, and Betsy came and took her place.

So, we listened hard and in theory I should be able to tell you all about it. But this story is a lot more interesting than the debate was, I'm afraid.

"Empire Builder" - Seattle to Chicago

Though no one specifically asked for it, I think I promised you a tale of train food in the form of photo story. I have attempted this below!

On the first evening everyone at my table chose the four cheese ravioli, which were more appetising than they look! And not too filling, leaving room for the chocolate and raspberry torte which was delicious.

For breakfast the next day, french toast. Accompanied by a series of uncomfortable silences (single travellers are allocated to spare seats with strangers - which can be good and can be really, really awkward).

Lunch was a "garden burger" served with crisps and half a gherkin. And I'm afraid I forgot to take a picture of the key lime pie, but it wasn't what I expected (i.e. a lime green version of lemon meringue pie) - more like a lime flavoured cheesecake with a bit of crumble, or crumbly pie, topping.

Dinner on the second night was identical to the first, except the conversation was notably worse (lunch and dinner only have one vegetarian option each). Oh, except followed by chocolate icecream.

Breakfast I also forgot to photograph (sorry!) but it was rice crispies, a strawberry yoghurt, two wedges of orange and a "biscuit" (dry, savoury scone). And they'd run out of tea!!! Not impressed. Also not impressed to be sat opposite a silent (literally) minister of the church (another table mate informed me) who was the spitting image of Steve Buschemi, and with two rather rabid republicans whose best case against Obama was that he had initially not worn an American flag lapel badge.

Lunch was only available in the dining car between 11 and 12 which seemed just too soon after breakfast for me, so I got another garden burger (this time no relish) from the lounge car - incredible fpod item - vacuum packed for long life, bunged (whole - bun and all) in the microwave for 2 minutes and then it counts as edible. Actually, it did the bun a lot of good: apart from being a bit soggy on the outside (from the condensation) it was nicely chewy and sweet.

Seattle

On arrival in Seattle, I managed to get myself and two old Russian ladies locked in a stairwell. Luckily we were rescued after a while by a woman who heard us banging on the door.

I have rather taken against a city in whose main station it is so easy to get trapped... but I have only just arrived; I expect things can only get better.

The train from Denver to Emeryville (for SF)

34 hours of train is a lot of train by anyone's standards. Not to say it was boring - far from it. In fact, I only managed to read about 100 pages of books because there was so much to see, and so many people to talk to. So, there is too much to write to really be able to tell you what it was like. Instead, I will write about the people... and a little about the food.

The photo is of the one meal I took in the "dining car" (always makes me think of the chattanooga choo choo). Unfortunately you can't see quite what a disappointment it was. They were sold out of the only vegetarian option (veggie burger), so I had to take the macaroni cheese from the children's menu. It came in... 3 minutes! As did my dining companion's steak burger. It was a small bowl of overcooked pasta, with a very small amount of cream sauce. Where was the crispy cheesy topping?! Maybe kids aren't supposed to care about that.

The rest of my food I brought with me - the on board meals are expensive and (as you might have guessed) not that great. However, on my seriously long haul from Seattle to Chicago I have a sleeping car, which is fiendishly expensive, but includes all my meals in the dining car. So, watch this space for a detailed (and if I remember, illustrated) discussion of Amtrak cuisine.

No Amish this time, but a good and varied collection of people nonetheless. 2 English gap year students doing NYC to SF in one go, a computer game idea generator from Barcelona via Montreal, a train nut who spent hours (literally) telling me about California's historic inter-urban railways, a bossy mum with her recalcitrant son - she drove him mad making him do things like give up his seat so I could sit next to her and talk, a crowd of Serbian students, a black doctor with a white wife, a Glaswegian son-in-law and a Chinese daughter-in-law (and a passion for Obama) and a woman who had lost the sight in each of her eyes but in two different ways...

I am struck by the easy sociability of Americans, and ashamed when I find myself ill at ease or worrying about being rude.

De Tocqueville wrote about the pleasure two American strangers have on meeting one another, and how this contrasts with the English, who exchange only the most necessary pleasantries before making their excuses and going their own way. This was (incredibly, 170 years later!) illustrated on the train. The lounge car attendant asked me, and the man in the queue behind me, where we were from. London. And Manchester. We smiled nervously at one another and asked politely what the other was doing in America. Then the conversation stalled. Yet I imagine he was as swept away by the openness and friendliness of Americans and found himself in long conversations with them, as I did.

PS update on 10th October - I forgot to write that we journeyed along a river for quite a long time, passing a couple of camp sites, and lots of people out in boats or on the shore enjoying the great outdoors. As the train went past, literally half of those along the river pulled their trousers down and mooned us. Is this some kind of great American tradition?

Detour into British politics

David Cameron plans to scrap a third runway at Heathrow in favour of a high speed rail network linking England's major cities.

It is so depressing that this has come from the Tories - I don't want to vote for them, but this kind of thing is so much more radical and optimistic than what feels like "business as usual" from Labour. Hopefully they'll catch on and adopt it, and no one will complain too much because it's such a good idea. Hmm, how likely is that?

Chicago, Illinois

I've got a few hours to kill in Chicago between trains, and I thought I'd write something about traveling by train here because it is so different from doing so in Europe.

Firstly, on nearly every line there is only one train each day, often in the middle of the night.

Secondly, the trains are almost universally late - on long distance trains usually up to around 2 hours, but it can be much more. Mine was an hour late leaving Pittsburgh and nearly two hours late into Chicago. Mainly because freight trains always take precedence (because they bring in income, whereas the passenger trains are run at a loss).

Once the train has arrived, all the embarking passengers queue at one door. Then the guard picks out first families with children, then people in groups of two or more, and seats them first. Only after that can others get on.

The trains (some at least) are double decker, and the seats are huge, with lots of leg room. They recline, and a leg rest comes out to make it easier to sleep. The best approach is to try to get two seats to yourself which, with the leg rests out, make a pretty decent bed.

Conversation with strangers is pretty much mandatory (the opposite of the tube).

And there is one group of people you are bound to meet on an Amtrak train, in this area at least - the Amish, who prefer trains to other long distance methods of transport (apparently).

In my carriage, along with the usual assortment of travelers there was an Amish father and son, complete with straw hats (but wearing buttons...), a drunk who couldn't remember where he'd gotten on, and two young men (about 20) carrying bibles and singing praise songs while everyone else was trying to sleep.

Pittsburgh to Chicago was just over 9 hours, Chicago to Denver will be about 17.