I had lunch with a friend of mine a few weeks ago. We don’t see each other that often—busy, right?—but we keep up on Facebook and in that lunch discovered our friendship is alive and well. The things that drew us together still do.
Including travel adventures.
I’d seen some photos of a railroad trip to Alaska she’d made with her husband and her son, and I grilled her about it. It’s country I’d like to see, and most people I know who’ve seen it have done so from a cruise ship. Nothing wrong with that, but I have a little vertigo problem.
(Vertigo is caused—trust me, I’ve had all the tests—by sensitivity in eyes, ears, or legs, and while I have all three, it’s the leg sensitivity that knocks me over: standing in an old wooden building on the floor directly above the physical plant, for example, when the heating unit kicks on; or on an upper floor of any metal building, say the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville; or elevators, oh boy, elevators are troublesome for me. I’m highly sensitive to vibration that most of you can’t feel at all. So I’ve concluded that an ocean-going vessel is probably not a good fit for me.)
Thus the idea of a train was very appealing.
A couple weeks later, a large envelope arrived. Inside there was a large, four-color magazine from the Alaska Railroad, and a Post-It Note message: “Jamie, I hope you can go to AK some time.”
Summer? Or winter? We’ll see!