Got as much sleep as I could in Sauna 307, and the packing up process went very smoothly. Maybe I’m getting better at that part.

Taking a bus to the station was the easiest approach, and the only trouble I had was looking for the stop on the wrong side of the road. It’d have been correct in New Zealand, and I figured that out about halfway across the road.

For a 10pm train I was vastly early. Fortunately, a sleeper cabin comes with access to the Metropolitan Lounge at stations which have them, so I could stash my bag & go wandering.
In this case, to a bookstore Andrei had recommended I go check out, which turned out to be a not-too-bad walk from the station.

Spotted one of those multi-city signposts on the way; This is probably the closest to NZ I’ve been since … June, maybe?

And yet, some things followed me here.

And then there was The Last Bookstore.
It’s … different. In a good & eclectic way.

Upstairs is a gallery wrapping around the central space, filled with art gallery space, the book labyrinth, which essentially means you’ll be doing some meandering, and a few small arty businesses.

Luggage space is an issue, so I bought nothing, despite them having a copy of The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl in their comic & graphic novel grotto.

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It was , as they say, as hot as hell out there, so I spent a bunch of time hiding from the day-star in the Amtrak Metropolitan Lounge, watching the room fill & empty as trains left.
I also watched people turn up to the lounge five minutes before their train left, then leave their boarding passes on the counter when told to run to the appropriate platform. No idea whether they made it.

Eventually, ‘my’ train arrived, and I got to see where I’d be living for the next two days.

Roomette 14, downstairs, at the other end of the car from the toilets & the shower.
Basically the same design as the other roomettes I’ve stayed in, though this one replaces the narrow ‘wardrobe’ with an indentation in the wall, a hanger rail, and a strap to hold things in place. Since I had nothing needing hanging, it meant a little more space, so I’m good with that.
In the interests of even more space, Big Red lived in the luggage rack in the centre of the car, so I could fold the top bunk hard up and get more head room.
The bed was already made up when we got on board, which makes sense, as it was kind of late.

I slept well, or at least better than in the sauna, and woke up at sunrise.

This trip seemed a lot more social than others. Not sure why.
I did make an effort to get off the train at every stop where it was feasible, so I met a lot of the other sleeper passengers.
Jay the sleeping car attendant helped, I think, by generally being cheerful and outgoing and involving everyone around him in his conversations.

I even met Daisy the Service & Therapy Dog, who, in one of the most adorable moments of the trip, shook my hand and gave me her card; She keeps them in her harness pockets.

Some actual content may inadvertently creep in here, but for the most part it’s a bunch of photos.
I could try to describe the place, or I could just show you.

There were a lot of tiny little communities looking like this along the route.
And a lot of giant window or roof-mount air conditioning units.

The next few I think are the result of trying to zoom in on the hills and clouds in the background, and I’ve kept them because I rather like the effect.

Aaaand we’re back.
Look at the colour of that sky; And that’s through a somewhat-tinted window.

Trying to get a photo of the tail-end of the train, but the angle’s tricky.

Sometime during lunch, I think, we spent some time running along the border with Mexico.
Sadly, my phone was charging in my room, because at points we were looking over the border fence/wall into … Mexican streets & houses & life in general.

At the El Paso station you can see into Juarez, Mexico, though not well.

The writing on the mountain over there, I’m told by total strangers on the internet, reads “CD Juarez. La Biblia es la verdad. Leela.”, which translates to “Ciudad (city) Juarez. The Bible is the truth. Read it.”

With any luck, this next one will open up into a panorama; I was playing with the settings on my phone camera.

And the sun goes down, …

And along with it, any semblance of heat control in the dining car, and the septic system in our sleeper car.
The air conditioning eventually came right, the septic system … Not so much.
We ended up going a car uptrain to the crew sleepers to use their toilets, as downtrain was the dining car, with no toilets, and a cafe/observation car, with no toilets. Next was a coach car, which did have toilets, but it felt a bit “Hello Peasants; I’m just here to crap, and then shall depart!” for my liking. Also, the crew car was closer.

They pumped the tanks at San Antonio, poorly pictured below, which fixed the toilets for a while.

For a while.
Think they were out of order again by Houston.

In the shed they use as a terminal in Houston, there’s a display all about the wonderful history of Houston Union Station, which looked all classic and grand and interesting. And made me ask the question which wasn’t addressed on the display, which is Why aren’t we stopping there instead of this overgrown bus shelter under a fucking motorway?

The train seemed to get emptier as we rode along.
On day one, there were scheduled timeslots for lunch & dinner.
Day two, they just announced when they’d start and stop seating people, and it worked out fine.

As can be seen, a damn-near empty observation car.

I was sitting in here as we approached New Orleans, and got to look down as we crossed the Huey P. Long Bridge, which is very long because it crosses the Mississippi quite high up, and trains aren’t good at climbing.
Slightly visible in this photo is Kurt, who was on his way to New Orleans to go to a reunion for former crewmen of a particular Destroyer. I’d ended up having about half of the on-train meals at the same table as him, just due to the quirks of when people turned up at the dining car.

There were other dining car folks too, mostly on holiday.

The couple from New York, who were only going to be in New Orleans for a night before catching their next train, but were going to see what they could see on that night.
A mad-keen WoW player who noticed my Gen Con shirt in microseconds, and his wife; He’s a Medical Imaging Technician, and she’s a Writer.
A couple from Newton, Kansas, who were visiting relatives/offspring; He was retired from Amtrak, and the town they’re living in was the one I’d have gone to if I were going to TsunamiCon in Wichita. They’re hoping that a private  rail company’s noises about linking Newton with Oklahoma City will actually happen, as it’d be a hell of lot easier & close a dead-end in the network.

I’ll also mention the Warhammer-Obsessed cafe car attendant. (another Gen Con shirt recognition incident)
The whole crew seemed very tight, and according to him were a family, which has  to help when you’re spending six days together at a stretch; Three there, three back.

And that, more or less, is the trip.
We got into New Orleans maybe 40 minutes early, and I took the advice I’d been given and took a taxi to the hotel.
Pretty sure the cabbie was running undeclared, as he quoted me $12 for the trip & I did not see that meter running.

And this was the room;