(The following story by Jessica Damiano appeared on the Newsday website on June 30.)
NEW YORK — Train travel. A century ago and a continent away, it was synonymous with luxury. Today, along the Eastern seaboard, that’s not necessarily the case. But what’s it like to take a 1,100-mile rail journey in the here and now? Determined to find out, I embarked on a 24-hour trip on Amtrak’s Silver Star Train #91 from New York to Kissimmee, Florida.
My daughter Justine opted for a week of Disney World magic instead of a party to celebrate her 16th birthday. So, in addition to my family — my husband John, 10-year-old daughter Julia, Justine and me — we had two of her lifelong friends, Carley Lerch and Lauryn Cartagine, both 15, in tow.
We arrived at Penn Station via the Long Island Railroad an hour before our scheduled 11 A.M departure. Thanks to self-service kiosks located in the waiting area, check-in and ticketing were a breeze. Waiting an hour for our train to arrive, however, was not.
Although Penn Station is Amtrak’s busiest station, with 8,027,976 passengers passing through in 2007, the carrier doesn’t have a comfortable waiting area for its regional service so we had to stand the whole time. Kids who are lugging tote bags, wearing backpacks and wheeling luggage can get cranky when they’re uncomfortable. So can adults.
Lack of creature comforts aside, the wait ended before it became intolerable. But the entraining process was a bit disorganized, with identical seat assignments blurted out to four people in our party as well as to the family on line behind us, the Langes from Holbrook. Apparently, this wasn’t a one-time occurrence on Amtrak, which does not assign coach seats prior to boarding. The same mix-up occurred to 4 groups of passengers in our car on the return trip a week later.
The glitch was resolved quickly, and we settled into our seats, which were much roomier than any coach seats we’d had on airplanes. Chairs reclined comfortably with leg rests emerging from beneath at the touch of a button. Adjustable-height foot rests were attached to the seat in front of us, as were multi-position pull-out trays. The piece de resistance? Approximately 36 inches of legroom, which, on such a long trip, is more of a necessity than an extravagance.
The kids were thrilled to have electrical outlets at their seats, a perk that’s not available in every car. They played video games and charged iPods and cell phones to their hearts’ content. Had I known, I would have brought my laptop. But, alas, I scribbled this account the old-fashioned way, on a legal pad.
Amtrak has a generous baggage allowance, permitting 2 carry-on bags per passenger, not including personal items like purses, strollers, laptops and small coolers. An additional 3 bags can be checked in, but we didn’t take advantage of that option. We did, however, pack meals, fruit, snacks and beverages for everyone in our group.
Food was available for purchase at the snack bar in the lounge car and in the dining car by reservation. The snack bar served standard convenience-store food (think microwaved hot dogs for $3.75 and pizza for $3.50), while the dining car menu included flat iron steak served with a baked potato and vegetable ($21) and roast game hen with rice and a vegetable ($13).
Passengers I met who took their meals in the dining car had no complaints about the food, but most travelers I observed had their own rations in tow.
Judy Loving, the lead service attendant who manned the snack bar where I purchased several cups of coffee, was a seasoned professional, offering old-fashioned service with a smile all day long, despite the throngs of hungry customers and long hours spent on her feet, closing up shop at 11:30 P.M and re-emerging bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:30 A.M. Asked about her 12 years working with Amtrak, she smiled and said, “I love my job.” I believed her. In fact, all the attendants were friendly, helpful and pleasant.
The rest rooms were larger than those found on airplanes, but similar in design and quality, with stainless steel fixtures and sliding doors. They were relatively clean and usually available, with two situated at the rear of each car.
While John and I read books and magazines, listened to our iPods (he, country and classical music; I, the audio version of my book club’s latest assignment, “The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao,” by Junot Díaz), the kids hung out in the lounge car for hours at a time, playing cards and hanging out with some teenagers headed home to northern Florida in what turned into a lesson in cultural diversity (“Mom, what’s mud slinging?”)
The Langes, ultimately seated directly in front of us, entertained themselves with a portable DVD player (“Full House” episodes, mostly), a laptop, video games and magazines.
I was glad to have had the foresight to pack blankets, as we were warned they wouldn’t be available gratis. “Souvenir” blankets were sold at the snack bar for $15 apiece. It was quite chilly in our car. Some other cars were too warm and stuffy. Only a few would have pleased Goldilocks.
As bedtime neared, we reclined and curled up into our blankets. I awoke nearly every hour to shift positions, and found it necessary to include 2 Advil with my breakfast. Nevertheless, we arrived in Kissimmee reasonably refreshed and exactly on schedule.