Travelogue, Part IV

[rsc]

Getting up at 6:00 AM is not something we often do, so just to be sure we set all three possible alarms ("music system" on the desk, digital clock-radio next to the bed, jwg's PalmPilot). The music system got there first, and we had no trouble waking up. Fortunately our hotel started breakfast at 6:30 -- and a very nice breakfast it was; they had a French Toast special for $3.95 (believe me, that's cheap for a hotel breakfast), served with real maple syrup! It was slightly disconcerting to find warm water coming out of the cold water tap in the room (it was cold the night before), but after all it is possible to brush one's teeth with warm water if necessary.

When we checked in, we had requested a taxi for 7:15, and when we came downstairs with our bags it was there and waiting for us. 10-minute taxi ride to the Amtrak station, no problem.

John has already posted some about the train trip, noting how and why the train got to be late. It was a pleasant enough trip nonetheless. The scenery in central/eastern NC and VA is very different from the west; the train's route mostly went through light forest and swamp. Pretty in a somewhat monotonous way. There were several families in our car (including one going all the way from Charlotte to New York with two children, and another family with an infant a couple of seats behind us), but they were quiet and well-behaved for the most part. (The infant got upset briefly when the lights went out while they were changing engines in Washington.)

One more kvetch about Amtrak: when they have a crew change, they apparently have to close the food-service car half an hour ahead of the stop to close the books, etc., and somehow they always manage (at least on the trains that I seem to end up on) to have crew changes at prime lunchtime. This train was no exception, with a crew change at Raleigh (scheduled arrival at 11:20, but they were running about 20 minutes behind). Fortunately, we've learned to anticipate this, and since we'd had breakfast so early we were actually ready for lunch before we got to Raleigh; I think we were the last people served before they shut down.

North Carolina seems to take rail travel more seriously than many other states; they've provided funding for a "volunteer host" program, whereby volunteers who like trains help passengers with boarding and baggage handling, come along for the ride and answer questions, etc., probably making life much easier for the conductors as well. Of course they all vanished by the time we crossed over into Virginia.

The only other time I had passed through these states was on a train from New York to Jacksonville, FL, when I was 8 years old, and most of it was at night, and I was asleep. I guess I still can't add Maryland and Delaware to my life list, since although I was awake this time it was dark by the time we left Washington.

We ended up arriving in Philadelphia about 25 minutes late. Thanks to the miracle of the cell phone, I was able to warn my brother about this; nonetheless he managed to get to the station a good 15-20 minutes ahead of us. He's even more compulsive about being on time than I am.



We went out to a somewhat late dinner on Wednesday at a very nice Italian restaurant on South St. named San Carlo, where we've been before on similar occasions. My brother and his wife seem to have a relationship with this restaurant
rather like the one that pinkfish and fj have with Brown Sugar. This was a good break for my brother and sister-in-law, since the 24 hours (at least) leading up to Thanksgiving dinner at their house generally is occupied more-or-less non-stop by food preparation.

My brother and his wife live in a row house in the Queen Village neighborhood of Philadelphia: three stories, deep and rather narrow (one big room wide, effectively), with very high ceilings and steep staircases. My parents are in their mid-80s, and steep staircases are not really in their repertoire any more; this is especially true of my mother, who spent an extended time in the hospital and skilled-nursing facility about two years ago, and since then can only get around with a walker (she has a motorized wheelchair-cart for going from place to place at the retirement community where they live). Fortunately the dining room is on the ground floor, and the space can be arranged to be manageable (if not ideal) for hors d'œvres and drinks. My mother had mentioned to me a couple of days earlier that she had been practicing climbing stairs, but the stairs to my brother's living room are not just any stairs, and she was easily talked out of attempting them. (My sister-in-law had in any case not cleaned the living room to her own satisfaction, not that anyone else would have noticed.)

Thanksgiving at their house is the full traditional feast (with some local variations): roast turkey (six people hardly make a dent in a 16-pound turkey), corn-bread-chestnut stuffing, gravy, candied sweet potatoes, brussels sprouts with walnuts, and something called "dried corn", which when cooked is perfectly edible, although I didn't find it especially interesting (an opinion I kept to myself). All this followed by apple pie and (if I remember correctly) "gooey pumpkin cake", which, apparently, was not quite as gooey as my sister-in-law intended, but was yummy nonetheless, as was everything else (if you don't count the corn). I think we all ate rather too much, which is the whole idea, right?

It was good to see my parents (I had last seen them in June), who seem to be doing pretty well, considering, and were in quite good spirits. My father no longer drives at night, so my brother drove them home, and I went along to keep him company on the drive back, and to choose a calendar (my mother's annual gift to all and sundry). I chose one with wildflower photos; I was tempted by the songbirds, but my brother really wanted that one, and I was having trouble making up my mind anyway. (I was also tempted by the Escher prints, but decided that some of them might not want to be looked at every day for a month.)


[Almost done...]

Comments

[rsc.livejournal.com]

Not to mention the fact that the wobbly banister at the head of the stairs would have made her very uncomfortable.

As for her hair, what I think is most remarkable is that, less than two months before her 85th birthday, significant amounts of it are still dark.