I wrote this while cruising through the barren wastes of Rhode Island (as small as it is, it still sports barren wastes) at 150 mph. Aboard America’s fanciest train, listening to the inconceivably boring woman behind me snore more loudly than a wildebeest. To be that close to a sublime travel experience – on time train, content passengers, clear signals – and have it sullied like that was irksome.
[Her husband, seated next to her, had his iPod earbuds jammed in his ear, but I cannot imagine he couldn’t hear her. I heard her through my Bose headphones, so his earbuds couldn’t shield him from that, I suspect. It’s bad form on his part to permit his wife to make so much noise, both for her sake and the sake of those around her.]
If you’d been standing beside the tracks, this is what we would have looked like as we rocketed past.
Once we arrived (a minute early) at South Station, it was just a twelve minute walk towards the aquarium, and now I am ensconced in my in laws’ apartment, looking out across Boston Harbor at Logan airport, from a forty story vantage point. I can see a half-dozen planes stacked up waiting to land, which reminds me how much I like taking the train here.
I have a couple small posts which I hope to queue up for this week, but for the most part I will be offline. Until next week, be well.