Remember I chose Miami because of the beach? Have yet to set a foot in it. But I’ve been to the pool. Does that count? It is certainly a very entertaining/irritating place. Today we were blessed by the appearance of a woman in a one strapped silver swimsuit with a beret-like sequined silver swim cap. Normally I would recoil in horror at such a sight but the wearer was a tiny woman with very bad posture and two kids in tow which was a pleasant diversion from the fake boobs, deep tan, long yellow hair and pink toenail polish that seem to be the norm poolside. In another unusual development, she was yelling at the kids, not into a cell phone. A true original.
Managed another longish leisurely swim, finally did some reading and met Jonny and Jorge for a movie (“Machete” – a magnificent source of one liners) and dinner at the Big Pink. Exhausted.
Went to the pool, it started raining. Everybody ran away like it was raining acid, even the ones that were in the pool and, by definition, already wet. I waited it out and then had the pool to myself for a long, leisurely swim before it was time to come back to bed for a siesta followed by a full night sleep.
Tried to get out of bed by 7.30 before remembering my clearly stated goals for the week. Went back to sleep. Slept until 2.30 PM.
Gingerly walked to Whole Foods less than 10 blocks away. Bought good stuff. Felt completely idiotic at being one of those people who were reading labels and buying raw food dessert. We take ourselves way too seriously. It’s just food, for chrissake.
Lunch by 5 PM.
Attempt to check out the pool by 8 PM. Attempt coincides exactly with the start of a major storm.
Came back to the apartment through what appeared to be a convention of gang members and pimps in the hall.
Keeping the apartment at the deep freeze temperature my body loves.
It all started months ago when I checked the holydays for the year and realized there were two this week. I immediately put in a vacation request. My idea was to go to Spain for a couple of weeks, to see my family or, as I like to tease them, my ex-family, in Madrid, and then go to see M.A. at the beach. But then M.A. was not going to be at the beach, and I did not feel like spending two weeks in Madrid, desperate as I am for some beach and, preferably, warm waters. So I changed plans and decided to go to Miami, by myself. This does not make any sense. I hate Miami. I like the beach all right and I like that it is an easy commute from NYC but other than that, and not to be judgmental about it, I think it’s a wannabe place populated by just about the worst of South America and visited by the worst of Europe.
So I chose it because it’s so near, and cheap (remember these operative words, you will need them to make fun of me). Then a friend mentioned the train and got me thinking. I absolutely hate the flying experience nowadays. Fifteen years ago I did not fly because I feared it. But then I took a course and got over it. For a while I even enjoyed turbulences. Those days are long gone but the flight itself is not why I hate flying now. What I really hate is being treated like cattle, I hate the hours waiting in line, the whole security hoopla which, unfortunately, does nothing to make me feel safer, I hate being squished in tiny seats, being ignored, mistreated and dehumanized. I guess I hate everything about air travel now. On the other hand, I love trains. I love that you have space, I love that you have a view, I love that the staff is generally smiley and nice, I love that passengers are not as uptight and stressed as on planes, I love that train stations are right smack in the middle of cities. So then I proceeded to buy a one way ride on the train, thinking that I would decide what to do for my way back after. Then Pamen warned me that I might not be able to flight back if I did not use the leg from NY to Miami, so I called JetBlue and Orbitz and cancelled the whole non-refundable trip.
Bear in mind that I chose Miami because it was close and now I am riding a train for 27 hours. I chose Miami because it was cheap and now I am not using non refundable tickets and paying for the train ride which, by the way, is much more expensive.
Then again, I am in the mood for a vacation and the flight/airport part does not contribute to it. I don’t mind the 27 hours, I am in no hurry. I will arrive the same day, at the same time I would have if I had flown; only I will be leaving one day earlier.
So here I am now, on the Silver Meteor, on my way to Florida. We left NY Penn Station at 3.15 PM (actually it was more like 3.20) and we will be arriving to Miami at 7 PM, if there are no delays, which I am sort of expecting, after having researched the subject on line a bit. I will be doing some work (plenty of space), then I will have a proper dinner (I have a reservation for 7.30 PM, which was the latest available), then I'll come to my seat and watch a movie on my laptop.
So far it’s been interesting, most people seem to have done this before, I feel like the only rookie here. I am very excited about dinner at a proper table, as opposed to the ridiculous trays on plane. Oh, I have just been offered a pillow. Nice. And the bar car is just a few feet away. This is a very civilized way of travelling.
Back from my dinner with my former seat mate and a couple staying in one of the rooms. She is Asian, works for NASA and travels all over the world; he's older and basically smiles.
I am now in the café/bar car, people playing cards and drinking beer and me trying to connect to the web trough my cell. I have to work a bit after all and then I have to watch a movie. This is a must.
A minor complaint regarding the dinner car and the bar car: they have no restroom! Are you supposed to drink and not pee? Or maybe I you should leave/schlep all your stuff to get to the restroom at the end of your car.
Relocating
I am considering moving to an Amtrak train. Tons of positively huge people, both tall and wide. I am feeling like a cross between a tiny delicate flower and an elite athlete.
The characters
Before dinner, while we were in D.C. having the engine changed this woman was on the phone with her live-in boyfriend, who had spent two years in jails, who did not care about her child, who would not pay his part of the rent and the bills and she has to text him because he does not answer the phone, even though they live together. People in the car were snickering, rolling their eyes, telling her to shut up. I don't think she ever noticed though.
Then there’s the elderly black gentleman that looks like a minister, in a suit with a big hat. He’s a piece of work and on his way to the bar he has announced to everybody “I am going to relapse”. Great line, I can’t wait to use it.
Dinner companions: a couple travelling to Savannah. She’s Asian, works for NASA, has been all over the world and back. He was in the Navy back in the 60s in Naples, Italy. She talks, he smiles. They are staying in a roomette. She finds everything so cheap.
There’s a huge restaurant owner from Rochester, NY that knows everybody, talks to everybody and has recently had back surgery.
I am spending most of my alert time chatting with a Cuban lady, retired from a lifetime of union work. She’s a riot.
Then there are the announcements: after a particular long announcement we are asked to clap for the announcer, Jackie, the lady in charge of the bar. We do.
We are also told it’s a little boy’s birthday, seems he has distributed cupcakes and gotten money in return. A guy noted that if he did a second pass he would probably have enough money for college.
A crack-whore looking old woman, bright yellow hair, no teeth that I can discern, entertains an old men with a fascinating talk about nail polish. They guy just takes it, in silence and with a bewildered look on his face.
The huge, and I mean humongous, guy with suspenders and a gut so big he has to step off the train backwards, with help, so as to not topple over.
People are very friendly, lots of elderly people (it’s cheaper for them), lots of huge people (I don’t think they could fit in a plane seat), people with babies, kids, a woman on a wheelchair, in general people that would have a hard time on a plane, a few Southern belles and tons of African American.