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travelogue, day 1
Aug. 11th, 2011 09:32 pmWell. I have made it to Connecticut. Yesterday (was that just yesterday), I wrapped up the bulk of the packing, putting a bunch of miscellaneous dry goods into the storage unit. The storage unit is now officially full. Then I brought up stuff from my fridge and freezer to S's house, saddled up the Jolly Roger, and hauled my luggage down to the airport. Then I took a redeye flight from Phoenix to Boston, which lived up to its name; I had an aisle seat, and the guy sitting next to me kept constantly drinking coffee and getting up to pee.
Arriving in Boston was...strange. I haven't been here for a few years, but still felt an odd sense of familiarity upon arrival. I've flown in and out of Logan Airport so many times. This time, I reclaimed my luggage and hopped on the Silver Line bus (new to me) over to South Station, to catch a train to Connecticut.
The train station also evoked a strange feeling of familiarity. I can't remember if I've taken many trains there - maybe just one, once, down to New York City. Mostly, I've walked through the train station over to the Greyhound station to catch the bus to Connecticut.
I got there much earlier than I'd anticipated, so there was plenty of time to eat some breakfast (Au Bon Paine, not great but filling) and get situated. I was nervous about hauling my bike on the train down to Connecticut, so I went over to a ticketing agent to ask about it. She directed me over to baggage. The last time I visited that baggage station was when I moved from Boston back to Seattle; it was cheapest to ship my belongings on a pallet from the Boston train station to the Seattle train station. They treated me well, there. This time was no different. The baggage agent who spoke with me said that there's usually just one train a day with a baggage car, so the bike would have to go later in the day. However, he said, the baggage cars are some of the oldest train cars in use, and they often break, so there was no guarantee that there would actually be a baggage car today. When I explained my itinerary and turnaround time (I return to Boston on Saturday), he scratched his head for a minute. Apparently, as with many other places, the train station no longer provides space for people to store their belongings. A hallmark of the post-9-11 era. It looked like I was out of luck, despite the fact that many of the shipments they receive at that station sit there for days or weeks on end.
But the agent walked around for a minute, and said, "Let me see about something." Eventually, he came back with a tag, stuck half of it on the bike box, and gave the other part of the ticket to me. He said, "Now when you come to get this, tell them that you're here to pick up your bike that has been shipped from New Haven to Boston." So thank you, agent, for being awesome and figuring out how to work the system.
That simplified the trip tremendously. I have mixed feelings about taking the train down. On the one hand, the scenery was fantastic and I got in a nice nap, in the Quiet Car (no cell phone conversations or loud talking aloud, blissfully quiet!). On the other hand, Greyhound is much cheaper. But so it goes.
I got to spend the rest of the afternoon with my brother and his wife and their 5-week-old baby boy. What a cutie-pie.
Arriving in Boston was...strange. I haven't been here for a few years, but still felt an odd sense of familiarity upon arrival. I've flown in and out of Logan Airport so many times. This time, I reclaimed my luggage and hopped on the Silver Line bus (new to me) over to South Station, to catch a train to Connecticut.
The train station also evoked a strange feeling of familiarity. I can't remember if I've taken many trains there - maybe just one, once, down to New York City. Mostly, I've walked through the train station over to the Greyhound station to catch the bus to Connecticut.
I got there much earlier than I'd anticipated, so there was plenty of time to eat some breakfast (Au Bon Paine, not great but filling) and get situated. I was nervous about hauling my bike on the train down to Connecticut, so I went over to a ticketing agent to ask about it. She directed me over to baggage. The last time I visited that baggage station was when I moved from Boston back to Seattle; it was cheapest to ship my belongings on a pallet from the Boston train station to the Seattle train station. They treated me well, there. This time was no different. The baggage agent who spoke with me said that there's usually just one train a day with a baggage car, so the bike would have to go later in the day. However, he said, the baggage cars are some of the oldest train cars in use, and they often break, so there was no guarantee that there would actually be a baggage car today. When I explained my itinerary and turnaround time (I return to Boston on Saturday), he scratched his head for a minute. Apparently, as with many other places, the train station no longer provides space for people to store their belongings. A hallmark of the post-9-11 era. It looked like I was out of luck, despite the fact that many of the shipments they receive at that station sit there for days or weeks on end.
But the agent walked around for a minute, and said, "Let me see about something." Eventually, he came back with a tag, stuck half of it on the bike box, and gave the other part of the ticket to me. He said, "Now when you come to get this, tell them that you're here to pick up your bike that has been shipped from New Haven to Boston." So thank you, agent, for being awesome and figuring out how to work the system.
That simplified the trip tremendously. I have mixed feelings about taking the train down. On the one hand, the scenery was fantastic and I got in a nice nap, in the Quiet Car (no cell phone conversations or loud talking aloud, blissfully quiet!). On the other hand, Greyhound is much cheaper. But so it goes.
I got to spend the rest of the afternoon with my brother and his wife and their 5-week-old baby boy. What a cutie-pie.
