Thursday, January 04, 2007
Escaping New York – by Amtrack to Boston
Escaping New York – by Amtrack to Boston
IT is not that I dislike flying, it is that this trip of 250 miles which I used to make in four hours by car, costs a lot more on the Delta shuttle than Amtrack’s $94, each way, that is,. I am not quite up to driving in the early December, with the sun low and fading at 2 PM.
Amtrack is not all fun. To begin, this was the first day of the new taxi rates, and the traffic to Penn Station was all waiting, with the meter clicking away. Then the line at the ticket booth, with a great mob rushing the satairs. By adroit maneuvering I got to the side of the entrance, and in minutes, past the friendly ID checking lady. Next move was to get a window seat, by practically running to the penultimate car – never take the last, the passers-through are always hopeful, but in the last car they will make you move over and share.
That particular stratagem worked, and I had a full seat to stretch out my legs, asd the train soundlessly moved through the long tunnel, emerging in upper Manhattan, a sea of brownrn rooftops shining to the west in the late sun, hundreds of three story tall homes now and then broken by five story ones (I remembered that this was the max height that could be built without an elevator.) Soon we crossed the East River, into equally dreary Bronx, mostly factories, many inactive, and warehouses. More water and we were in the country. Since the lights were on, I plugged in and booted my battery-less laptop, to write this tale, but as soon as the computer’s tabletop with icons lit up, the juice broke, the car turnrd dark and so did my screen. Undaunted I rebooted as sonn as the lights turned bright again, watched over by a conductor who assured me that there would be no more than 3-4 such events before Boston. I lost my faith in him by Stamford, after five blackouts, and walked to the buffet car, to get a sandwich. Imagine my surprise in seeing about eight to ten laptop users busily working in each of the six cars. Apparently I was the only one who came not pepared with a battery driven machine.
The buffet attendant was busily explaining to a client why he ate in New York before getting into the car. It was clear why he had , besides shocolate and oatmeal cookies there were only packaged crackers and cheese left, plus bags of chips. I choose the chocolate cookee, on the theory expounded to me by a women that chocolate has anti-oxidents. It also tasted good, lasting all the way through the six cars, to my seat, strategically decorated with two shoulder-bags, my action. I overcame my guilt feelinga by observing that there were other single-occupied seats, as sat back to enjoy the scenery. But by now the neat Connecticut harbor scenes with boats hauled out and wrapped in white sheets, this side of New Haven, had given way to wintery darkening woods. I turned away, to catch up with an old New Yorker, which ran out of value before Providence with its long row of desolate warehouses. Boston was near.
Getting out a Boston’s Back Bay was tempting – there is a Nieman Marcus, only one in the East of my reach, directly across the street, but I was laden withtwo bags and bound and determined to walk to the Hilton Hotel, my destination. I shoukd explain that my mission was a two day seminar on HIPAA security, the protection of the privacy of citizen’s medical jistorues, a law signed by Clinton and implemented by regulations only in 2003 and 2005, hard and costly toimplemented, with no enfprcement and penalties designed by HHD, under Cuomo and his successors, except when identity theft and similar felonious actions took place.
This is a 15 minute walk through dark streets with tall quiet office buildings and hotels, which can be lightened up by walking through the Copley Plsaza and Prudential Center shopping areas, huge markets connected by a glass-walled crossover bridge, like the DeGaulle Airport in Paris, traversing the traffic-filled wide Huntington Avenue. This led directly to the door of my Back Bay Hilton Hotel.
I got to like the Pru Center in the next two days, first as lunch and dinner provider, from the costly Legar Sea Foods branch to the Food Court eateries, Boston Chawda my favorite, the popular Paradise Bakery and Café, Panda Chinese ans Qdoba Moroccan Grill.More popular priced chain food is also available nearby, on Mass Avenue - a Wendy’s and such, a Chuck’s (the junkyard dog), and the Bukowski Tavern a block away, the walls covered by Beat writer’s texts, enlarged, and primitive black and white murals, by a girlftiend, named Christina or maybe Gretchen. A fit memorial for Charles Bukowski.
IT is not that I dislike flying, it is that this trip of 250 miles which I used to make in four hours by car, costs a lot more on the Delta shuttle than Amtrack’s $94, each way, that is,. I am not quite up to driving in the early December, with the sun low and fading at 2 PM.
Amtrack is not all fun. To begin, this was the first day of the new taxi rates, and the traffic to Penn Station was all waiting, with the meter clicking away. Then the line at the ticket booth, with a great mob rushing the satairs. By adroit maneuvering I got to the side of the entrance, and in minutes, past the friendly ID checking lady. Next move was to get a window seat, by practically running to the penultimate car – never take the last, the passers-through are always hopeful, but in the last car they will make you move over and share.
That particular stratagem worked, and I had a full seat to stretch out my legs, asd the train soundlessly moved through the long tunnel, emerging in upper Manhattan, a sea of brownrn rooftops shining to the west in the late sun, hundreds of three story tall homes now and then broken by five story ones (I remembered that this was the max height that could be built without an elevator.) Soon we crossed the East River, into equally dreary Bronx, mostly factories, many inactive, and warehouses. More water and we were in the country. Since the lights were on, I plugged in and booted my battery-less laptop, to write this tale, but as soon as the computer’s tabletop with icons lit up, the juice broke, the car turnrd dark and so did my screen. Undaunted I rebooted as sonn as the lights turned bright again, watched over by a conductor who assured me that there would be no more than 3-4 such events before Boston. I lost my faith in him by Stamford, after five blackouts, and walked to the buffet car, to get a sandwich. Imagine my surprise in seeing about eight to ten laptop users busily working in each of the six cars. Apparently I was the only one who came not pepared with a battery driven machine.
The buffet attendant was busily explaining to a client why he ate in New York before getting into the car. It was clear why he had , besides shocolate and oatmeal cookies there were only packaged crackers and cheese left, plus bags of chips. I choose the chocolate cookee, on the theory expounded to me by a women that chocolate has anti-oxidents. It also tasted good, lasting all the way through the six cars, to my seat, strategically decorated with two shoulder-bags, my action. I overcame my guilt feelinga by observing that there were other single-occupied seats, as sat back to enjoy the scenery. But by now the neat Connecticut harbor scenes with boats hauled out and wrapped in white sheets, this side of New Haven, had given way to wintery darkening woods. I turned away, to catch up with an old New Yorker, which ran out of value before Providence with its long row of desolate warehouses. Boston was near.
Getting out a Boston’s Back Bay was tempting – there is a Nieman Marcus, only one in the East of my reach, directly across the street, but I was laden withtwo bags and bound and determined to walk to the Hilton Hotel, my destination. I shoukd explain that my mission was a two day seminar on HIPAA security, the protection of the privacy of citizen’s medical jistorues, a law signed by Clinton and implemented by regulations only in 2003 and 2005, hard and costly toimplemented, with no enfprcement and penalties designed by HHD, under Cuomo and his successors, except when identity theft and similar felonious actions took place.
This is a 15 minute walk through dark streets with tall quiet office buildings and hotels, which can be lightened up by walking through the Copley Plsaza and Prudential Center shopping areas, huge markets connected by a glass-walled crossover bridge, like the DeGaulle Airport in Paris, traversing the traffic-filled wide Huntington Avenue. This led directly to the door of my Back Bay Hilton Hotel.
I got to like the Pru Center in the next two days, first as lunch and dinner provider, from the costly Legar Sea Foods branch to the Food Court eateries, Boston Chawda my favorite, the popular Paradise Bakery and Café, Panda Chinese ans Qdoba Moroccan Grill.More popular priced chain food is also available nearby, on Mass Avenue - a Wendy’s and such, a Chuck’s (the junkyard dog), and the Bukowski Tavern a block away, the walls covered by Beat writer’s texts, enlarged, and primitive black and white murals, by a girlftiend, named Christina or maybe Gretchen. A fit memorial for Charles Bukowski.
# posted by Wally Dobelis @ 5:20 AM 
