After filling my ice bucket and retiring to my coat room and breaking out a bottle of Jack for a cocktail, I noticed we were moving but ever so slowly. We were finally on our way. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door (yes, it has a sliding glass door). The porter asked me what time I wanted my bed turned down. "My what…turned where?" I suddenly felt as though my station in life had been elevated several steps above where it was only minutes ago. I answered, "Why, I believe about 10 p.m. will be fine with me my good man, thank you." My bed turned down! This is gonna be alright! He then proceeded to tell me about a wine and cheese party in the lounge, two cars aft, that was going until about 4:30 p.m. It just keeps getting better.

Being the social animal that I am, I scampered down the passageway to the lounge car. Then, my first problem arose. The adjacent car had larger "family" rooms and the passage way was on the far side of the train. This is not a "stroll down with arms swinging" wide hallway; it’s narrow and slightly wider than shoulder’s width at best.

As I started down the rather narrow hall, I realized I had lost my sea legs and was bouncing from windows to walls and thought to myself, "Narrow is good. It keeps me upright." Suddenly I looked up and another rather portly (that's what we call ourselves) man with a tray of wine and cheese in his hands had also started down the hall. I sensed trouble when he did not relinquish the hall, even though I had clearly started first. This was not gonna be pretty, but I proceeded anyway.

We met at a room, which was occupied, with the door closed. It was decision time. Do we pass face-to-face, rubbing bellies? Or face-to-back, rubbing…? Maybe, back-to-back? None seemed appropriate. We opted for back-to-back which did not afford him room for his tray of hardly needed foodstuffs. He attempted to lift it overhead and, in doing so, created a cascade of Merlot that thankfully ended up on his shirt and not mine. This was starting to look like a Laurel and Hardy bit when the door to the room opened and he "popped in" like a watermelon seed shot between two fingers. I said nothing and went on my way leaving him to apologize for the intrusion.

There were two kinds of wine and several varieties of cheese and crackers as well as fresh fruit nicely displayed in the lounge. I made a plate and sat at a table with a few others. We conversed as the train started to gain speed. With speed came the familiar rocking and rolling and side jarring that trains are famous for. Frankly—it is part of their charm—well, at least for the first few minutes.

Continued next issue….