Wednesday morning was sunny and cold. I got up and formulated my plan for the day while I showered, then called J. to see if she was interested in lunch and, oh, would she mind if I ditched my bags at her place after I check out of the hotel? She had to leave in the early afternoon for another commitment; but she not only anticipated my request, she graciously offered me the keys to her apartment and her MoMA membership card to entertain myself after lunch. Free admission to MoMA!

I did not, however, need to be out of my room until noon, so I headed to the coffee shop on the corner for a bowl of granola and a big cup of coffee. Then to Chelsea Market, which made me giddy. Food food food! If I lived in the neighborhood, I’d probably spend a stupid amount of time (and money) here. As it was, I got hot chocolate mix to take home from Jacques Torres and wandered up and down taking pictures and gawking into shop windows for nearly an hour.

Back to the hotel to get my bags and check out. I headed for the M11, one of the first on, and made the half hour trip uptown to J.’s. I left my bags in her apartment and she and her dog took me out to see Central Park and Tavern on the Green (sadly bankrupt and closed now, Christmas decorations still hanging in the windows).

We dropped the dog off at her apartment again and then walked to Vynl, a diner-type place with menus sandwiched between record covers and serving delicious homemade chips.
J. pointed me in the direction of MoMA before departing and I passed an extremely gratifying hour there strolling through photography collections and Monets and finally into the Tim Burton exhibit (no flash photography in the museum, and no photography whatsoever in the exhibit, unfortunately … of course, the picture below is of an object in the atrium with a “Do Not Touch” sign next to it and clearly, someone isn’t paying any attention to that).

It was extremely crowded, but I am glad I had the opportunity to see some of it while I was there. It’s made me really consider getting a membership to the Art Institute – it’s nice to see art an hour or two at a time, instead of cramming in as much as possible because I want to get my $20 worth. I don’t care what I’m looking at after an hour or two. A friend describes this as ‘art fatigue.’

I digress. Back to pick up my bag at J’s and leave the keys with her doorman. I got to the avenue, and I did not even have to raise my hand to hail a cab – one spotted me as I reached the corner with my bags; he slammed on the brakes and was out of the car opening the trunk and putting my bag in, almost before I knew it. And to Penn Station we went. I checked my suitcase in just 5 minutes before deadline and boarded the train 15 minutes later with an overpriced bottle of water, a few books and my knitting.
I won’t regale you with the full details of the trip home. The essentials:
- A family occupying the seats around me was boorish and poorly behaved for most of the trip
- The car steward was terrible – the most unfriendly I’ve ever had on an Amtrak train
- The scenery – lovely; I’d like to make the trip again in the summertime when it stays light longer and see more of upstate New York.
- I finished The Sirens of Titan.
- I loved eating in the dining car; I treated myself to a full dinner there in the evening, and in the morning had coffee with a lovely woman who’d boarded the train in Erie and was on her way to a christening in Naperville.
- The seats are large enough to sleep in and I felt surprisingly well-rested when I arrived at Union Station and met Dan for breakfast Thursday morning.
I love train travel – yes, it takes eons longer than a flight, but you travel without hours-long lines in security, unreasonable baggage restrictions and fees, headaches from altitude changes and dehydration, mis-routed luggage, long flight delays, bad airport food … there is no need to put your seat and tray table in the upright position or turn off your electronic devices, no turbulence, no impossibly tiny bags of “snack mix,” no theater act about emergency procedures … and you get large comfortable seats, lots of legroom, changing scenery, the chance to have a cigarette or get some air in every state you pass through, and (usually) excellent stewards. And there is something very old-timey and elegant about it. I love it. Even with loud-mouths sitting 2 feet away.

See? Every time someone else took a picture of me on this trip, I looked ridiculous, deranged or just awful.
* * *
I thought for certain I’d find traveling alone to be lonely at some point – I do like time to myself, but I was sure before leaving I’d feel stranded or just sorry I didn’t have a companion for dinner. I enjoyed my companions when I had them, but I also liked my snug little room and having time to read or knit during my down hours. I’m so glad I did it and while I like traveling with Dan, I think I’ll be sprinkling more solo trips in between our vacations, too.
Full-on vacation album – look at all 200+ if you dare.























