Vero Beach #3

And the final chapter. I apologize for some of the "soap box" musings. Thanks for reading.

Vero Beach, The Return Trip

Well by now it was Monday mid day, and Vickie and I were packing for our drive back to Orlando. We had the TV on the Weather Channel keeping an eye on Faye and her path. In Vero Beach currently it was only overcast, and rain was coming only in showers. We were due to catch the train at 7:14 pm at the Orlando station about 2 hrs. away. Around mid afternoon, we headed out, picked up a late lunch at the Waffle House, and turned the PT Cruiser north. We drove off and on through rain as we headed north. We arrived in Orlando and found the train station much more easily than we thought. Since we had gotten quite lost leaving the station when we got there, we left ourselves plenty of time. This was good news and bad news. The good news was we arrived there ahead of rush hour in Orlando, which if judged by the non rush hour traffic, must be a BIG mess. Bad news was we had several hours to kill at the Orlando Train Station. We checked our luggage, and then had second thoughts about turning in the rental car after we found out the Orlando Train Station had no first class waiting area and very little to offer in the way of amenities than the same old wooden benches it had had for the last 85 years.

We decided since the train station appeared to be near to “stuff” we’d keep the rental car and go for an adult beverage at some local lounge till closer to actual departure time. After an hour of fighting traffic on Orange Avenue in both directions and finding nothing, we reluctantly headed back to the old Orlando Station to wait it out. From here I am going to quote some of the notes I made myself on my digital pocket recorder. I had time to wander around and deeply immerse myself in the ambience that is the Orlando Amtrak Station. My first note: “The Orlando Train Station is a relic. The Men’s Room isn’t even air-conditioned. The window is propped open and there is no screen. Amtrak is really missing the boat here---this is Orlando---this is where everyone comes to go to like Disney World, Sea World, Universal Studios, and stuff. This station is a disgrace. I’m starting to thi nk Amtrak is a disgrace, we’ll see how the trip home goes.” Needless to say my first impression of the station was not too good.

So we sat down to wait, Vickie immediately immersed in her world of crosswords and Sodoku. She is lucky that way; I think she could ignore most anything while playing those games. I picked up some kind of free newspaper and actually found some entertainment in it to ease the bench sitting. First thing I discovered is there is a new revolution in hearing aids. (us old folks are interested in this type of thing) Seems as though these new hearing aids made by Siemens called the TEK model, utilize Bluetooth technology, and allow you to listen to music or phone calls, or anything Bluetooth right through your hearing aids. No need for headphones to watch a movie on the laptop, or listen to your Ipod if such things are Bluetooth compatible.

Read an article by a guy running for High Sheriff of Orange County. He said he has 3 things he has to do once he’s elected. 1. get rid of all the corruption and misuse of funds in the department (where have I heard that before) 2. do something about street crime. He went on to say Orange County has 15-17 active gangs, crime is rampant in the streets and for juveniles it is a right of passage to commit an armed robbery or murder. He also went on to say the juvenile justice system was like a revolving door, so they got hundreds of repeat offenders. 3. he said he was 125 officers short on the street due to the low pay and high risk of injury due to #2 above. Also due to the low pay the officers were forced to live in substandard housing. Sounds like Orange County Deputy is not on the top of most desirable jobs. O yeah, and the low pay is due to the corruption and misuse of funds in #1. (I just visited Disney, and read this about the county I’ve been visiting. Boy do I want to come back here.)

After all the entertaining reading, I was ready for a walk, but not far from the train station and it’s relative security. Note: “Windows on the outside of the train station look like they haven’t been painted in about 35 years” Note: “Across the street from the train station is a building that says “Latin Food, Spanish Food, Beer, Cigarettes, Ice Cream, Eat In, Take Out, We Deliver, Plumbing, Re-piping, Hidden Leaks Sewer and Drain Cleaning, Spanish Meal Small $3.95, Spanish Meal Large $4.95.” So there you go, everything you could possibly want across the street from a train station.” I chose to stay on the train station side of the street. While surveying the train station exterior I noticed some stairs to a locked door. Through the dusty glass above the 1^st floor, I could see an old lounge with books still on the shelves and reading chairs. Most probably was a nice reading lounge for passengers back in the day. I noted that it could be a nice 1^st class lounge now, but then the trainmaster’s recent words echoed in my mind—“The state of Florida don’t want to invest nothing in this place.” This was in response when we asked if they had a 1^st class lounge to wait in.

As I further wandered around the station noticing things, an Amtrak poster on the wall caught my attention. It said “The Beauty of North America and Canada, yours for 30 days.” Of course they were talking about the 30-day pass you can buy for travel on Amtrak. Some how in my head, with my current Amtrak experience, that translated into 30-day sentence on Amtrak

I went outside (on the rail side) and was admiring the architecture of the actual building that was the train station. It was really cool, with a tile roof and towers like you see on the Spanish mission type buildings. There is a large sign proclaiming Orlando to all passengers, and I can imagine what it was like in grander days. It is actually the old Seaboard Coast Line station from many years ago in RR history. I’m also thinking how it’s a shame it looks like they haven’t put a buck in this place in the last 50 years. (this will be important later)

Back inside I had a good time inspecting the 3 old wooden phone booths that would have made Superman proud. Two of them actually had pay phones still in them. Pay phones are a rare sight in this day of cell phone proliferation. I took some great pictures including a close up of the old vent unit up in the upper right corner of the booth. If you are old enough to remember these, you are in my target audience. Just beside these booths I noticed the Amtrak sign above the ticket window with the t and the r drooping below the other letters.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any crazier, I noticed a plaque on the wall that said “George L Stuart, SR. Historic Preservation Award Presented to Orlando Amtrak Station Renovation by Downtown Orlando Partnership 1990” There was a plaque under it that went on to detail “ In appreciation for sponsoring the renovation of the Orlando Florida Amtrak Station dedicated on the 65^th Anniversary of this historic landmark. Special thanks for your participation in the largest voluntary public lands stewardship project in the history of the city” It went on to list 50 or 60 folks and businesses that had done the sponsorship. I started doing the math. Station was 65 in 1991 that makes it 82 years old now and the “renovations” 17 years old. Only thing I can figure is they spent most of the money on receptions and congratulating themselves---they sure didn’t spend much money on the station. Boy did they fool me. (see above)

Got me to thinking---who owns railroad stations? Do the cities own them? Do the railroads own them? It says Seaboard Coast Line on the front of this one---that would make it owned by Southern RR, which is now NorfolkSouthern, one of the most profitable businesses going. Railroads are making record profits these days. Seems like someone could afford to upgrade at least the Orlando Amtrak station. How many foreign folks come through here to the local attractions and their impression of us is THE ORLANDO TRAIN STATION. I’ll bet the bus station is nicer. Oh yea, and where does the revenue go from the charges on my ticket and from the concession recovery fee on my rental car. Probably into the Orange County General Fund for corruption in the Sheriff’s office. Off the soap box again.

Now I’m standing out by the tracks doing that quintessential thing that everyone does----look down the track and wait for the train to come. It’s the classic thing to do while waiting. It’s a lovely evening, but looking at the sky you can tell that something is up. Faye has already covered the sky with a flat layer of angry grey clouds. We just realized that no one ever checked our ID getting on the train here. I checked the baggage, but all he wanted me to do was show him the tickets, and he stapled the bag checks to them. Then we just wander into the train station and wander out and get on the train with the only thing being checked is our car Roomette assignment. These could be stolen tickets, lost tickets, or we could be terrorists, but then you can’t drive a train into a building.

Getting on the train we find quite a different atmosphere this time. We now have a Steward, and he is totally on top of his game. We get to our Roomette (#2 this time) and everything is laid out perfectly. There is literature in place for us to read, a safety card, (I never saw a safety card on the last train), all the curtains are tied back, the lights are on invitingly, and 2 chilled bottles of water are in the holders awaiting us.

Unfortunately we pulled out of Orlando at 7:52 only 38 minutes after we were supposed to. (even though the whole time they were extolling how the train was “right on time”) Probably on time in some parallel train universe. The steward came by and said he had made our dinner reservations for 8:00, relaxing for a minute is out of the question so we’re off to the dining car.

Rolling north comfortably seated in the dining car watching the scenery go by---all is well with the world. Until---the Dining Nazi shows up. This guy acted like a headwaiter, but was actually our waiter. Maybe he was upset I didn’t tip him to seat us. We overlooked the bill of fare and decided on the salad, steak, baked potato, and steamed vegetables. (our cell mates across the hall recommended same) I asked for a Bloody Mary, and the Nazi said in a conspiratorial tone “you know that’s extra?”. I agreed to the nominal charge, and he silently brought a pretty good drink. Soon after our dinners were brought by what appeared to be a serving person. Turns out he had to pretty much be the waiter as well, cause you couldn’t get the Nazi’s attention short of tripping, and then I’m not sure. The food was very good, and there was plenty of it . The baked potato was served at about ten thousand degrees, and for some unknown reason Vickie got low fat sour cream and I got regular. I figured they must have looked at me and said well he’s pretty chunky, we better give him the full fat stuff. It was a good thing we had everything we needed, cause the Nazi never spoke to us again until Vickie caught him off guard and asked if desert was included in our complimentary dinner. ($21.00 if we had been paying) Then he was all gushy gushy about the three desert selections cheesecake, chocolate cake, or ice cream, and did we want strawberry topping. What a totally weird dude and how he got to be a waiter I’ll never know. Probably will retire soon with a huge railroad pension, courtesy of our tax dollars at work.

We came back from dinner and lounged in our Roomette for a while. I forgot to mention before we left for dinner, our Steward asked us at 7:55 pm if we wanted our Roomette made up for sleeping. Vickie told him no it was to early, so he told us then the steward from the other car would have to do it cause he had to go to sleep. He had to sleep a while before he came back on duty at 02:00 am. He said that was how they worked. Amazing, on the southbound train we never knew there was another steward or stewardess. (or safety card) And speaking of safety cards—it’s one sort of like on the airplanes showing the exits and stuff. Only difference is it tells you you need to be sure to know the location of the safety boxes. We luckily have a safety box just outside our Roomette just across the hall. It contains those things very important in a train travel. A. a fire extinguisher, B. some of those cool Britelume sticks you can mash and they make light, C. a giant pry bar, and D. a sledgehammer. Can you imagine getting on a plane and having this cool assortment of stuff behind this little window as you come in? Then the flight attendant says you have to know the location of the safety box so you can get the sledgehammer to beat your way out of the plane after we hurtle into the ground at 550 mph.

With a good dinner filling us we had our room made up and settled down for the night. We left a 6:50 wake up call since breakfast starts at 06:30 and we want to eat before we get off the train. Noted at this point the electrical system on this car worked quite nicely as opposed to the car coming south. There are however, several electrical devices that don’t appear to work or don’t do anything, including what appears to be a sound system. Through careful research I have determined that the only way to lay in this rapidly moving bunk with a full stomach sloshing around is on your back and with that I drifted off to a full nights sleep.

It’s 06:50 and our wake up call. We headed off to the dining car for breakfast and were greeted by the same Dining Nazi as last night. We were informed that 2.5 out of the 5 possible entrees were not available this morning by my math that’s 50% of the menu that wasn’t available. I opted for the reliable “Railroad French Toast” and Vickie since she couldn’t get an omelet, opted for eggs, bacon, toast, and potatoes. When the breakfast came, they brought her eggs, bacon, toast, and grits. She hates grits, and so when she questioned it they told her they were having “kitchen problems” so no potatoes were available. Needless to say she was not a happy camper. But this was nothing compared to when she got back to the Roomette. I failed to mention last night when we went to sleep, Vickie wondered where the pillowcases were. We convinced ourselves these were just disposable pillows like the airlines, and went off to sleep. When we got back from breakfast and our Roomette was all made back up for daytime, the missing pillowcases had miraculously appeared. Vickie was quite upset now knowing she had slept on a common pillow with no pillowcase. I helped out by telling her yea that was probably the same pillow I propped under my hip on the trip down. J

As we rode further, and could just sit and observe for a while, it came to me: very often the tree line is directly alongside the rail lines in the northeast. So all you can see is trees rushing by. It’s actually kind of nauseating if you look at it for a while. Oh, and also this morning Vickie was vindicated. She had quite a discussion with the alternate steward last night about when the train would arrive and how early we had to get up for breakfast. He was wrong by about 50 minutes, but he kept showing her this piece of paper and insisting we’d arrive at 8:10. It turned out to be more like 09:00, and when we asked our normal steward, he chuckled and said there is no way we could get there by 8:10. Vickie was already steaming and this just got her going more. Don’t think we’ll be riding the Amtrak any time soon. (While editing, my editor once again insisted she was right and h e was wrong…he was a moron. The ticket explicitly stated arrival in Raleigh at 8:54 am)

So as far as Amtrak goes let’s see how the score adds up. They tried to be sort of on time. The electrical system in our first car was totally screwed up. Our first breakfast was great, but there were waves in the liquid drinks. The cars southbound were generally dirty inside and out. The station in Raleigh was pretty nice along with the people. The Roomette was pretty small for everything but sleeping and pretty weird with the indoor outhouse. The Orlando Station was a dump---I’ve been in nicer bus stations. The northbound train was a little cleaner, but they forgot the pillowcases. The dinner was great but the waiter was a Nazi. Breakfast the second time was 50% out of commission.

The way I summed it all up when I wrote to Amtrak: You have a lot of good people trying to do a good job under fairly adverse conditions. How about investing some money in the equipment, roadbed, and stations. Some of your folks need to go to Europe or Asia to see how they operate their rail lines. What you should be offering is a competitively priced alternative to unpleasant air travel. What you are offering is an over priced National Disgrace. (based on my travel in the east coast corridor) It’s obvious Amtrak is being run by politicians rather than businessmen.

I later read in the paper Amtrak did not know what it was going to do. Ridership was up 40% out of Chicago since the gas prices went up, and they didn’t have enough equipment to handle it. I guess we screwed up and trusted the government to take care of Amtrak when we really should have taken it away from them and given it back to the Railroad monopolies that (surprise surprise they’re monopolies) are making record profits. But we did get safely to Florida and back, and had a fun time doing it. I’d say put Amtrak on you list when you are not in a hurry and want an adventure. Cheers to my loyal readers.

More later,

Wes

Vero Beach #1

Hello again. We're in Vero Beach Florida. Hopefully you'll enjoy what I enjoy creating.

I spent the last two weeks since my father died helping mother get everything handled. The last 5 months since he was diagnosed with cancer seem like a blur. We are all ok with his passing, since he was ready, and died without having to go onto the strong painkillers many terminal cancer patients have to resort to. After all the stress of the previous months, I was ready for a break. Our friends Neil and Andrea have long wanted us to come back and visit them in Florida.

Well since it’s Thursday this must be Florida. We arrived safe and sound at Neil and Andrea’s house in Vero Beach yesterday. We chose a new mode of transportation for this trip. We rode the Amtrak from Raleigh NC to Orlando FL. This has given me much food for my musings.

We arrived at the Raleigh train station courtesy of Shaun, Vickie’s nephew. He is going to store our Tahoe for the duration of the trip. They had free parking at the train station, but it is not in the best part of town, and there are only 60 spaces available. We had visions of coming home and finding the Tahoe sitting on blocks sans its alloy wheels and new Michelins. So much thanks to Shaun who with his two young sons, Ian and Bradon, delivered us to the train station. The train master gave them both wooden train whistles, and they had a great time exploring the train station with their great aunt. Unfortunately they had to leave before they got to see the train, but had a big time in any event.

Because we had booked sleeping accommodations on the train, we were considered 1^st class passengers. The station had a nice little lounge for the “1^st class passengers”. We availed ourselves of that and waited in comfort for the train to arrive. While waiting, I explored the train station. It is quite old, and there were pictures on the wall of old steam locomotives sitting in front of it. It had been remodeled, but in the center they preserved two of the original brick columns.

Rail travel is quite different from air travel in many ways. When we arrived at the station, a jovial attendant, and no line greeted us. He asked us for our picture Ids, tickets, and we were done. He said he’d greet us around the corner to check our luggage. In 5-7 minutes we were done. (and no strip search as usual for me) Let me mention also that the train allows you to check three 50 pound bags PER PERSON and two 50 pound carry on bags PER PERSON. We could move with that many suitcases. (or at least take the same amount of stuff we took to Florida in the spring in the Tahoe)

While we were waiting in the lounge for departure, they made an announcement that the conductor would be coming around taking tickets. I decided I better check on things since we were the only folks in the 1^st class lounge. I made a lap of the station and the jovial trainmaster said the conductor would certainly be to the lounge to get our tickets. While passing through the station back to the lounge I noted that a large number of folks had arrived to take the train since we went into the lounge. It was quite entertaining as there was a BROAD ASSORTMENT of folks waiting on the train.

Back in the lounge, we continued our wait, and they announced that the train would arrive exactly on time. Soon after, the conductor came in for our tickets. He was a very nice guy and noticed my Key Largo t-shirt. He said he was a diver and really loved to stay in Key Largo. I agreed what a great place it was while he processed our tickets. As he left the lounge, I commented to Vickie that any job where they still got to wear silly hats couldn’t be too bad. Many of the folks working on the RR still get to wear cool silly hats and uniforms. It’s like the military but with a sense of humor and no guns.

The train arrived, and we walked down to “position #6” which was our assigned boarding spot. (300 yards down the concrete boarding area) We were met by Silvia our car attendant, and escorted to our “Roomette”, Old #9. Here the fun begins. We already knew the dimensions of the Roomette from the Internet. But somehow that didn’t prepare us for the physical reality of it. First off, our carry on (measured to be smaller than the recommended carry on dimensions) wouldn’t fit under the seat. We tried laying it on the square toilet lid, which doubles as a table when closed, but it kept over balancing and falling off. We ended up putting it on the upper bunk, and putting the computer bag carry on on the ledge beside my seat. (we discovered much later, after Vickie had repacked the carryon to be thin enough to fit under the seat, there was another big storage spot up at the top level abo ve the toilet/upper bunk stairs) All that accomplished, we sat down in the two facing seats, and our knees touched. We tried putting down the convenient table between us, and it rested on my stomach. It was obvious these Roomettes had been designed with smaller folks in mind. I was a little in a funk, but we mixed up an adult beverage from the complimentary large cup of orange juice Sylvia (tips are appreciated) gave us and decided to make the best of it.

Vickie in her usual resourcefulness figured out how to make it all work, and we settled down for the ride. Then some more fun started. I thought I might read a book, so I turned on the reading light---it wouldn’t work. Neither would Vickie’s. We were able to turn on some of the lights, but they were these sun bright fluorescent lights that hurt your eyes. And then there was the issue of the light in the ceiling that was “sort of on” and wouldn’t turn on or off. We called Sylvia, and she said yea the whole car was electrically funky. She said every time they sent a train up to New York, they sent back all the old broken down cars, and kept the good ones. As I’ll elaborate later, this car really did have some issues.

In the meantime we had started traveling, and the train had got up to speed. It was obvious the Amtrak roadbed was not in the best of shape. The motion of the car was sometimes similar to a mechanical bull, and I often found myself hoping the wheels were actually going to land back on the track after that particularly high bounce. I decided I might want something to eat before the “Café/Bar Car” closed at midnight. We got out of the room into the hallway, and when you looked toward the other cars, the incredible motion was really evident. It reminded me of something you might experience at Disney World or like we were on a rolling Amtrak amusement park. We sort of lurched and staggered our way through the closed Dining Car to the Café Car. The pass-throughs between cars were especially exciting. I got a $3.75 nuked hot dog (Hebrew –National), and we lurched/staggered back to Old #9. After sitting looking out the window at the dark for a while, Vickie suggested we go to bed. I agreed, and we called Sylvia to make our room up. (tips again appreciated) We were in for a big surprise.

What the Roomette lacks in creature comforts sitting up, it is just the opposite made up for sleeping. Vickie took the upper berth and I had the lower. Both have windows that let you view the passing scenery (though dark). As I lay in my very comfortable bunk, watching the dark scenery, I made a note on my voice recorder that went something like this. I have to mention the quality of the Amtrak roadbed at this point. “This train flops around like a grey whale humping in the water”, very exciting. At this point I drifted off to sleep.

I awakened later to use the toilet that was incorporated into our room. Was quite an experience in the semidarkness with the train flying around in random directions. I noted that the Roomette is sort of like camping, but you bring the outhouse in the tent with you. As I drifted back to sleep, here is another rambling sort of muse on the motion of the train. “As I lay here rolling south it came to me, the variety of the motion of these cars is infinite. At some speeds they actually wallow, at some speeds they bob and weave. Over some crossings, they jump and leap, but always their gimungus tonnage ends up back on the rails. And then it really came to me---what happens, rolling along on the Southbound train, when that one wheel leaps and doesn’t end up back where it’s supposed to be. With that thought I drifted back to sleep.

Next musing was at 02:23 in the Charleston SC station where we were running about half an hour late. This is where I got back into the weirdness of the room lights. We had this one overhead light that truly had a mind of its own or was possessed. I’ll once again resort to quoting my favorite source. “Our fiercely independent light in the ceiling of our room continues its quest to be completely unpredictable. Now that it has chosen to be on, no manner of switch throwing or cussing, or thinking, or switch pounding will affect its determined electronic gremlin that wants to shine. Maybe we’ll leave the station and some wizardry will happen and the button will light up and the light will go off. Who knows it remains to be seen.” “As I predicted 8 seconds after the previous observation, the light blinked a couple times. The little button o n the wall lit up, and now it’s off.” So after we left the station and I was no longer staring at the huge sodium vapor light, we were back to the soothing relative darkness of “The Roomette”.

Some time after the episode in the Charleston station, we stopped for a while, then proceeded slowly. Soon we passed a bunch of CSX (railroad) service trucks alongside the tracks with a bunch of lights shining on a bunch of removed ties in a muddy wallery looking area. Seems like we must have had some kind of track malady. Perhaps it was caused by the rain we had been traveling through.

After the stop and wait for what appeared to be the broken tracks malady, we ran on for what seemed to be an interminable amount of time at a speed of about 15 mph. Always making forward progress (quite smooth because of the low speed) but wondering what was the hold up? Was there a slow freight in front of us? Was there some other track malady—had the track washed out ahead and they were fixing it? One can never know when you are on the train at night in the dark and it’s raining.

Just as we finally picked up some speed, the gremlin light decided to turn itself on. I ignored it, as I was lulled to sleep by the crash and bang of the car undercarriage over the undulating roadbed. And always, the whistle blows, sometimes twice a minute when we’re near a town.

Next we are traveling on a relatively smooth section of track at a pretty high rate of speed. This particular track is very smooth, but periodically there is this giant crashing noise (I think it may be road crossings) followed by violent sideways rocking of the car for about 4 or 5 oscillations. Quite unnerving.

04:51 AM and we are parked in Savannah (GA). Savannah is like a big deal for this train. Don’t know if we like change engineers, or fuel the train or what exactly. Later, we have left Savannah and are at serious speed. 5:05 AM and this particular roadbed is quite smooth. The good news is the overhead light has once again decided to turn itself out, the bad news is at this particular speed the car had developed a resonance that causes the door of Old #9 to rattle quite loudly. I’m currently holding my hand on it to stop the ratatattat ratatattat ratatattat ratatattat ratatattat etc. Later, I remembered the guy across the hall had a coat hanger wedged into his door. At the time I didn’t understand why he would do that. As it turns out, he must be an Amtrak veteran. I used his coat hanger idea, and stopped my door from it rhythmic rattling. Have to add if all the tracks were like t he tracks between Savannah and Jacksonville, it would be quite a smooth and rapid trip. But then if we fixed our railroad tracks, we wouldn’t be able to afford 4 billion a day for the war in the Middle East

Later, just got what seems to be the best cup of coffee in the universe. Sitting in my Roomette watching the sun come up and the world go by. Slept very well for a couple hours on the smooth track, lulled by the rhythmic vibration of the entire railroad car, and singing Arlo Guthrie’s “City of New Orleans” quietly to myself drifting off. An interesting observation, freight trains are passing us on the opposite track which is my side of the train. The closing speed seems to be about 120 mph. We’re going 60 or 70 and they are doing about the same. Can’t imagine what the impact would be like if we hit head on. A 300,000-ton freight hitting a 90-ton aluminum tin can head on. Oooops.

Just passed through the Tallahassee rail yards, cars sitting everywhere waiting to be a train. Leaving Tallahassee passed an active older food processing plant that said A & P Foods on the back. There is a name I haven’t seen in years, you got to wonder who owns it now.

Vickie has awoken, she slept through everything, and we find ourselves in the dining car for breakfast. The smooth track has given way to the same old undulating snake we are used to. Everything in the dining car seems to have a life of it’s own, moving quite significantly. There are waves in the coffee and orange juice. I think I saw little guys surfing in Vickie’s water. The food is quite acceptable and the view, while not scenic, is great. The waiter said “he has to drink a couple in the morning to be able to flow with the car movement”. You GOT to love trains.

An hour or so after breakfast we arrived in Orlando (pretty close to on time) and collected our luggage and rent a car without hassle. We had an uneventful drive to Vero Beach, and a wonderful reunion with Neil and Andrea. We are planning to go to one of their/our favorite clubs (right on the water) tonight for some adult beverages, dancing, and meeting old friends.

More later,

Wes