I say goodbye to the hotel receptionist and head out of the door; within seconds, and in true slapstick fashion I'm heading back past the hotel in the correct direction. Its not my fault... its not even 6am. I forget my reasoning for booking on such early transport. but after nearly cleaning out the fittings and clientel of a downtown Starbucks by entering with my rucksack I decide it must have been for public safety.
At the Amtrak station the woman at the ticket counter asks for photo ID. "Gorgeous" she says as she hands back my passport... I don't believe her. The station is busier than Dallas although it seems most are waiting for the train north to Canada: including a few families cajolling commuters into taking group photos of them in front of an amtrak advertising poster.
The train leaves Seattle characteristically late, and after we've gone a mile or so the conductor and an engineer realise the carriage door is still open. With the door shut a more thorough investigation reveals a few of the carriages are without power and so we're moved along the carriages to those that do work. Without a single complaint or even a sigh everyone gets up, collects their belongings and files along the aisle. Anyone who's travelled by train in the UK will appreciate the unlikelihood of this level of unquestioning passenger co-operation.
In those carriages with power a screen shows a map of the route, pinpointing the train's exact location. It also shows temperature, current time, expected arrival time and even points out landmarks. Sadly the mysterious geological foothills it attempts to point out in southern Washington are obscured by a mysterious geological passing freight train which wasn't on the map.
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