April 04, 2015
Amtrak New Orleans to Chicago 145p – 900a +1 City of New Orleans First Class
It was approaching 1:45pm when the cab dropped me off at New Orleans’ Union Passenger Terminal. Unlike some old stations serving America’s larger cities, this one would hardly be considered architecturally appealing. I was reminded of the station in Cape Town, South Africa. When they built this station the emphasis was clearly on functionality. The New Orleans station is clearly that, serving both Amtrak and Greyhound. Inside there is a gift shop and a food court featuring a Subway sandwich concession. A few electronic games like Pac Man sit off to one side of the food court.
Two uniformed NOPD officers kept a watchful eye at both entrances to the station, probably a good idea given the seediness of the area and the behavioral shortcomings occasionally exhibited amongst those who ride Greyhound.
Surprisingly, the station also offers a lounge for Amtrak’s First Class passengers. It’s called the Magnolia Room and though the name might suggest Southern comfort and gracious hospitality, the reality of it is a medium sized room sporting a couple dozen lounge chairs, a TV, a small coffee maker and a water dispenser. There are no snacks provided, no computers and no restrooms. In short, the only real benefit to this “lounge” is that it’s quieter and the cushioned chairs are more comfortable than sitting on the hard plastic seats out in the main lobby.
The Magnolia Room
Boarding was announced at 1:25pm. As we walked out the train I took note of a beautiful private car on the adjoining track. It was painted in the attractive brown and orange livery of the Illinois Central’s crack streamliner, the
Panama Limited. I later found out that this car is used for
luxury rail trips between New Orleans, Chicago and Denver.
Onboard my car, I reveled in the air-conditioned ecstasy of my roomette as I settled in for the 19 hour ride up to Chicago. My neighbors arrived, a retired couple from Naperville, Illinois on their way home after a week-long Caribbean cruise. Car attendant Janelle stopped by check on us and answer any questions we might have about the roomettes. As it turned out we were all veteran riders and so she bid us a pleasant journey and told us to call her if we needed anything.
Ah… my air-conditioned roomette
Lower level handicapped room
There’s roomette style seating and beds behind me
We departed New Orleans right on time at1:45 p.m. I watched from my downstairs room as we glided away from the downtown area and on through the “backside” of New Orleans. Once again I was reminded of Cape Town but this time of its shantytowns. Here in one of New Orleans’ less prosperous wards I watched as we rolled by row upon row of ramshackle houses situated alongside the tracks. An old man looked up from a nap outside his backdoor. Two boys waved excitedly at the train. I waved back.
A few minutes later we were rumbling over a long causeway through the swamps west of Lake Pontchartrain. Cypress trees with hanging moss grew out of swamps, and pelicans were visible in the distance. Egrets are also commonly seen through here, I looked for but did not see any alligators. There’s a turtle!
Rolling along the shores of Lake Pontchartrain
Bayou Country
North of Lake Pontchartrain we quickly transitioned from lush green wetlands to longleaf pine forests and farmland. Tiny settlements and small towns flashed by as we sped north, horn blowing vigorously at each road crossing. In some towns with multiple road crossings, the horn remained constant. I once read that a higher percentage of cars are hit by trains in Southern states than anywhere else in the nation, so perhaps this has something to do with the horn usage.
Rippin’ through the forests
Rural Views in Southern Louisiana
Church and Doublewide Trackside
At Hammond I headed up to the Sightseer Lounge, located just two cars back. A cold beer and a panoramic view out the big picture windows made for an enjoyable ride up to Jackson.
Sightseer Lounge Car
Trackside at Jackson, Mississippi
The call went out for my 6:00pm dinner reservation shortly after we’d departed Jackson. At my table this evening was a typical mixed bag of riders. To my right was Dennis, a retired teacher from Milwaukee who also happened to be an Illinois Central Railroad buff. Across from us was a middle-aged couple from Kingman, Arizona whose names I don’t recall. They were a lively pair though and between us all we had a good time talking about everything from driving in Mexico to the Green Bay Packer’s Super Bowl chances to Alaskan winters and more.
Although I usually order the steak for dinner, tonight I decided to change things up a bit and order the half chicken dinner. I accompanied that with a side salad and a can of Ginger Ale, something I hadn’t enjoyed for a good year or more. That soda sure tasted good though and as for the chicken, it was top notch!
City of New Orleans Menu
Amtrak Dinner Salad
Winner! Winner! Chicken Dinner!
Cocktail hour scenery through Mississippi
After dinner, Denny and I repaired to the lounge for a couple drinks and some railroad talk. Since I neglected to hit up a liquor store prior to my departure this afternoon, I ended up shelling out $7.00 a shot for airline mini-style bottles of Jack Daniels. Times four. Sheeesh, for the price I paid I could’ve had a big 750ml bottle with plenty of change and only drunk about a third of it. Well let that be a lesson to me for my lack of foresight. Out the big picture windows we were treated to a pretty sunset though, and on the whole it was another nice night of train riding in America.
Sunset on the City of New Orleans
Later Sunset on the City of New Orleans
The next morning I barely made last call for breakfast and so had a table all to myself. No complaints there, really. Obviously I enjoy the social side of travel but in many other situations – be they at home or on the road - I often eat out on my own. Breakfast especially is my favorite meal for a little solitude as it’s usually the best chance I get all day to catch up on the news. In this case it was yesterday’s Times – Picayune.
As we sped through the Chicago suburbs racing morning commuters on a parallel highway, I opened the Sports section, had another sip of coffee and said a silent prayer of thanks that I was not part of the freeway madness already in full swing.