Saturday October 3, 2009
According to the Coast Starlight information sheet, Los Angeles was once known as El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora de la Reina de Los Angeles.
We arrived in Los Angeles at around 9:00 am. It was sunny and warm. The Spanish and art deco style station was sprawling and clean. We no sooner stepped off the train than a porter (or 'redcap' as Glenn calls them) drove up in a cart and whisked us and our luggage across a plaza to an indoor lounge. I'm glad we didn't have to walk all that way. He told us to remember his name because he would be back for us to take us to the next train when it was ready for boarding. I think he wanted to make sure he got his tips.
The Coast StarlightWhen we boarded the train for the 10:15 am departure, we were surprised to see that our car had two decks. Our compartment was on the upper deck. I was also surprised that nobody was around to help with the luggage. I had to lug it up the stairs myself, which wasn't my idea of first class service.
But the Coast Starlight sounds romantic, doesn't it? Never mind that there's no dome car to see any stars during the nighttime portions or that most of the route doesn't even go along the coast. I'd wanted to take this train for a long time.
I pictured relaxing in a window-side seat and enjoying the view, sitting down to nice dinners in the dining car and now, since we were tired from getting up at 4:00 am, having a nap in the afternoon.
Probably no one imagines rowdy kids in the compartment next door and paper thin walls so that you can hear every word. "Dad! Can I go up on the bunkbed?" "Dad, can Jason come up here too?" Bounce, thump, thump. We were travelling off-season but I didn't take into account that it was a weekend when families are more apt to travel. There went any hope of having a nap. With the racket, we couldn't relax or even concentrate on reading. We could also hear the senior couple on the other side of us, but their voices weren't nearly as penetrating.
And probably no one imagines anemic-looking, re-heated skinless chicken for dinner served by surly waiters but that's what we got on our first night on the Coast Starlight.
Before that though, we went to the dining car for lunch. Unfortunately a bunch of loud kids herded in right behind us, so we went back to our compartment. Turns out you can order in.
Worse than the kids in the room next to us was a family on the main floor. I felt sorry for their neighbours. The kids seemed fine but the parents were always hollering. At every stop, the dad was outside holding a baby while he puffed a cigarette next to its face, and invariably he'd start yelling at somebody.
No, this wasn't anything like taking the train trip across Canada where most of the travellers are seniors and the food is good.
We sat in our room seething. We paid a lot of money for this trip, especially to have a compartment with a bathroom. I resented it and started thinking of ways to escape. It was too far for Glenn to fly so that was out. We wondered about renting a car, or taking a bus but those things would take more money and more time than I had. We were too far south for any easy alternate plan. We felt completely trapped. As I worried about Glenn's blood pressure going up and up, I racked my brain trying to find a way out of this horrid situation.
An employee went by our open door and asked how we were. We told him. Before long our room attendant appeared. She had a terrific personality and was the saving grace of the trip. Then she said the most astounding thing about the man and two kids in the room next to ours. "Well, you know they're getting off in Santa Barbara." What? They're not going all the way to Seattle? Why would anyone pay for a compartment for such a short trip? It could have been that he was trying to be considerate of fellow passengers. Who knows. Who cares. We were just so happy at the thought of some peace at last.