Second of four parts
Rail travel has always appealed to me. As a child I watched the California Starlight come and go at the Santa Barbara Railroad Station for entertainment.
My first great adventure was taking the Super Chief from Los Angeles to Newton, Kas., to work on my uncles' farms, then returning on the California Limited from Kinsley, Kas. The Chief was an express from L.A. to Chicago, while the Limited was a "milk train" making every whistle stop along the line. On this trip, at the ripe age of 11, I tasted my first Hershey bar.
Lately, I have ridden the Canadian across America, the Ghan from Adelaide to Alice Springs in Australia, the California Zepher from Chicago to San Francisco, and the Sunset Limited from Los Angeles to Orlando, Fla.. Add Euro Railways and Chinese trains, and you have ample evidence of a traveler who enjoys riding the rails.
So I decided to take advantage of Amtrak's senior citizen and child rates to introduce Maximillion Grybowski, my 5-year-old grandson; to travel, trains and independence from Mom and Dad. The Silver Meteor makes an eight-hour trip between Max's home in Orlando and his cousins' home in Charleston, S.C. Round-trip fare was $146 for the two of us.
Prior to traveling, Mom and Dad instructed Max to stay away from strangers and keep close to Grandpa, and how to telephone 911 as well as his home. He was also admonished to keep real close to Grandpa when Grandpa goes to sleep.
His telephone training was tested early on right at home. Mom and Dad left the door to the patio open one morning while they were having their morning cigarette outside. The smoke drifted into the living room. Max saw the smoke, remembered his school lesson on drop-roll-call 911 and promptly went into action. The good news was that, fortunately, the sheriff's office called the house before dispatching a hook and ladder. The better news was that Mom and Dad decided enough was enough and gave up nicotine.
Our train was to depart Orlando at 12:46 p.m. As my son and his wife had to be at work then, my son engaged "the most responsible taxi in the area" to pick Max and me up at 11 a.m. and take us to the station. By 11:30, Max and I were on the curb anxiously looking for the taxi. Finally I called the cab number, and the driver admitted he was late and lost.
By 12:10, we were in the cab, then the driver decided to take a short cut, which included a detour for a bridge under construction and an intersection gridlocked by several flat-bed trailers. We arrived at the station at 12:50, giving us 6 minutes to run down the platform and get aboard the train only because it was 10 minutes late. No tip!
Rules of thumb regarding trains: They are very often late. Don't count on them being late, as they will leave on time when possible. The next train is in a day or two. The next train doesn't have an available sleeper.
The conductor assigned us two seats in the train car destined for Charleston. Max had handled the taxi well but was a bit apprehensive boarding the train. When I tried to get him to take a stroll through the train, he declined.
Our seats were spacious, particularly to someone used to flying coach. We had a very large window, plenty of space for our suitcases, and relatively clean floor area — most important to young children.
Five-year-olds have a very short attention span. This is both a problem and a blessing. It means you must be constantly ready for a change in direction, but it also means a problem is soon forgotten. I thought I could spend a great deal of time talking about the scenery enfolding outside our window. Wrong. This activity lasted for almost five minutes and could only be revisited every hour or so.
Five-year-olds need to build their confidence. In an hour or so, Max became comfortable with his seat, the car and our companions. Now he was ready to tour the train. Since he found the bathrooms new and different, we visited most of them and tested the flush pressure. He showed great interest in the lounge car, where one could purchase cakes and candy.
The train had several different seatings for meals. We chose the early seating. When the time came, Max was in his glory strolling through the cars randomly announcing we were going to dinner. He was most emphatic telling the lounge attendant we were on our way to the dining car.
Food on the train, alas, has lost its appeal. In the first half of the last century, Fred Harvey opened Harvey Houses along the Southern Pacific line from Chicago to Los Angeles and food became a big item. The railroad took note and provided fine dining in the premier trains. Today the lounge car's hamburgers are microwaved White Castle miniburgers, and the dining car could improve its food by microwaving Banquet. Our salad was adequate, but the pasta was warmed-up stuff Chef Boyardee would reject, and the vegetables had been boiled limp and colorless. Conclusion: Anyone taking the Silver Meteor should shop a supermarket prior to departure and forgo both the lounge (the only smoking area) and the dining car.
Our stay in Charleston was a ball. Max and his 7-year-old cousin bonded, and this mom and dad had free babysitting while Grandma and Grandpa enjoyed all the grandchildren together. (Grandma got there by airplane, leaving the rail riding to us guys.) The one problem was Max's lack of spacial relationships. He simply couldn't understand why his mom or dad didn't come by to see him. He was upset when he called home (as they had taught him to do) and got an answering machine. Grandparents, Uncle and Auntie and all the cousins in the world simply don't take the place of good old Mom.
After a couple of weeks, Max was champing at the bit to make sure Mom and Dad still existed, along with his personal cache of toys.
The trip home was far different. Max had no hesitation getting on the train and moving into his seat. Within an hour, he had everyone in the car organized and knew who was friendly and who to ignore. In two hours, he was ready for lunch. Unfortunately, it was only 10 a.m. By 11, he was "sharing" a snack with the woman across the aisle. By 11:30, he was strongly suggesting a tour of the train ending at the dining car.
When we got to the dining car, we found it was not yet receiving customers. I have determined that the dining car staff on Amtrak firmly believe that customers exist to serve them. This attitude is in evidence throughout the dining experience – beginning with assignment to rigid dining hours and continuing with staff demands rather than service.
Finally, the car opened and we trooped in to dine. We were seated with a mother and her 10-year-old going from Washington, D.C., to Miami. I have always enjoyed meeting a cross section of people in train dining cars. This woman was a part-time actress and a full-time mom. From the beginning, Max turned on a mixture of charm and obstinacy for her benefit. Whew.
The food itself was the usual bad news. The children's menu was not available. The original chicken order did not arrive in the manner described, the staff would not vary the manner of preparation, and the pasta entrée we settled on was served with a grilled chicken addition we had not requested. We decided to cut our losses, forwent dessert, and headed back to our seats.
From my own experience and from what I have observed of others, dining with children is stressful, period. Playing with cutlery, playing with food, demanding inappropriate food, refusing to eat what is there, and a natural tendency to spill things separate the generations.
Once we regained our coach, Max was his charming self. The remainder of the trip included exchanging snacks with our seatmates, coloring, reading, and telling tales. As long as he was free to move around when he felt it necessary, he was happy as could be.
When we got back to Orlando, there was much hugging and expressing of affection for Mom and Dad. The next morning, Max wanted his cousin to ge
t on the train and come visit him. A couple of days later, as I was getting ready to leave, he was angry with me. I had become a permanent resident to his thinking, and my leaving was a rejection of him.
Rules of thumb regarding 5-year-olds: Space out of sight is meaningless – around the corner, across town, in the next state, around the world are all the same. The refrigerator and cupboards are full of food, and if you do not like what is on your plate, you should be able to get it replaced. The telephone is there to be used. "Cost" is a word adults use a lot for some unknown reason. Whatever the problem, Mother is the solution. Grandpas are okay most of the time, but when the going gets tough, go direct to Mom.
Would I do it again? Yes, yes, yes.
Next: Going to London to visit the Queen with a 9-year-old
