It was time to leave Denver and the intense heat that baked me like a cake, the station was being rebuilt so i made my way to an office where i found my conductor and the gathering. People from all over, some Hammish some hippies, some families and some weird types. The train pulled in […]
It was time to leave Denver and the intense heat that baked me like a cake, the station was being rebuilt so i made my way to an office where i found my conductor and the gathering. People from all over, some Hammish some hippies, some families and some weird types. The train pulled in beside the temporary building and i made my way along to the last car. There i was greeted by a very confident Linda who showed me to my room, a small cubical with a bed that pulled down above and a curtain that went across the door. On the same level another 12 bedrooms, some couples some single men some single woman. A very large man sat in his room as i walked by, i thought he would never get out of there again, he was like a balloon in a shoe box. The train pulled out and after some confusion i was seated for dinner next to a very grumpy gentleman who did not say a word and across from me a couple right out of the little house on the prairie. The food ok, and i made my way back to my hutch. I looked up into the sky to see a plane, it looked tasty. The train moves across the flat lands of America in a very gentle manor, the horn gets blown every five minutes as we pass through sleepy towns made up of trailer homes and cattle. Linda pulls down my bed above me and takes herself off duty, the day is closing and there is another 15 hours to go before we reach Bombay. Its an adventure which breaks up the journeys on the bus with the boys, tonight they are in Lincoln Nebraska, we pass through there at 3.30am. I might just get off. I love trains and the romantic smells that fill the air as the human race waddle up and down the carriages like stuffed birds. And i feel fat too, its American food, it bloats you up and before long im like a duck on route to the orange sauce. Its dark now, there is nothing to see, the sleeping car is quite, but the train is blasting its horn, the coach class passengers are up the front, with the nuns chickens and hens, it must be unbearable, no sleep for the just. Back home today i talked with Louise, she is wonderful and im happy and proud of her work this week. Its time to turn in and see how long i last before i have to make my way to the mens room one floor down on this double decker Amtrak train to the windy city. Morning was broken by Linda telling us all that breakfast was being served in the dining car. I raced to my table only to be met by food that looked like it had been run over by a train. Back in my room i re made my bed for something to do, and fell asleep for a few more hours. Outside the great corn fields of America and nothing much else. The balloon in the show box was still in his room asleep sitting up. I fell asleep again and woke up to the call for lunch which was disgusting. I sat with a German family who seemed removed from the world by words said and food employed. I went back to my room. My dog Sid lives in a small cage, he seems happy there and looks very at home, i was on his wave length as they reminded me on the tannoy that there was only four hours to go. I fell asleep. By this time Linda had taken on the role of the woman in Tom and Jerry, i only saw her legs as she shuffled past the door. Finally the train pulled into the station, i got off with my bags and walked the three miles to the end of the platform in the heat, 100% of pure intensity. I was on my way to the gig where it was even hotter, my journey had come to an end and everyone in the band wanted to know what it was like, i fell asleep on the dressing room sofa. Cassy Jones i admire you, but i would rather be Thomas, the tank engine. Take it easy fella!