As far as song titles go, Dylan had a winner with that ^ one. But traveling by train to Quebec City gives it another angle.
Night was falling as we rolled out of Montreal. Only a few distant lights were visible outside. So I took a closer look at the interior of the train.
We were on a newer model, more plush all around, with high seats, arrays of lights, outlets, wi-fi, etc. I love trains. I wish there were more of them. Specifically, I wish I could hop on a train in Potsdam around 8:00 p.m. and wake up as it rolled into New York City around 6:00 the next morning.
This fantasy is always quashed by costs (among other things), but sitting in this passenger car brings the money issue into sharper relief. “Sticker” on this baby has to be more than a million dollars. Probably a lot more. But for the purposes of my dream railway, let’s say I could buy an engine and three cars for a cool $5 mil.
Plying my imagined Potsdam-Penn Station route, I’d have to sell a lot of tickets to pay it off. And then there’s payroll, upkeep, track maintenance and insurance.
It’s expensive. Hardly original or enlightening, I know. But such thoughts are for another time, because we’re rolling into Quebec (or Quebec City, as it’s called in the States) and this little getaway—that began the moment we stepped on the train in Cornwall—is about to take a decidedly different (and far more francophone) turn.
Next: Quebec welcomes the tourist