Tuesday, February 19, 2013

The Beach in Winter

Waitin' for the train - Los Angeles

I made another trip on the Amtrak Coast Starlight.  I've already described that journey in another post, so I'll only write about a couple of things, things that I found different this trip.

The biggest Amtrak change I found on this trip was the food.  I wouldn’t say it was bad, but the portions have gotten smaller and the selections less attractive (for me).  I got enough to eat, but I could definitely see a difference in portion size, and less generosity in the service, meaning less willingness to accommodate special requests.  The selection of entrees has also changed -- there were fewer items that I cared to eat.  I even skipped my last lunch on board because there simply wasn't anything on the menu I cared to try. That’s pretty sad, when an eater like me can’t find much on your menu that’s looks palatable.  

The best meal - Short Ribs on Plastic
The Amtrak route guide claims the dining car's meals are served on china. Sorry -- even in the Pacific Parlor Car the dinnerware was plastic.  Very nice plastic, but plastic. At least the flatware wasn't, but how long will it not be. The prices were exorbitant.  My meals were included as a sleeping car passenger, but I felt really sorry for coach passengers who had to pay $10 even for a hot dog or a plain unappetizing cold sandwich and a drink.

I asked for a bowl of soup along with my first lunch on board -- and they charged me $10 for it; on my last trip on the Coast Starlight, that bowl of soup was at no extra charge.  My guess is that it was less than 8 oz. – and it barely covered the bottom of the bowl. I am not exaggerating. I am sure this is a function of Amtrak’s continual operational losses – and those who love riding trains will put up with it simply because we don’t want to go hungry while enjoying our rail trips.  I once rode the Super Chief and ate in the vaunted dining car on that train – when that’s the standard you measure against, I guess Amtrak will be forever behind, won’t they?


Harold
I had a really fine car attendant this trip (Harold) -- which has pretty much been the normal experience for me on Amtrak with few exceptions -- but there is always at least one crew member who doesn't "measure up."  

In this case it was the Pacific Parlor car attendant, who spent a large amount of time on personal phone calls while I waited and waited for service.  And waited. These people don't seem to have any on-board supervision -- I didn't ask, and I don't know who it might have been unless maybe it is the conductor.  But he sure wasn’t paying any attention to this slacker. At other times the guy was usually friendly, so I let it go.  It was a short trip anyway, why cause trouble. But if you read about the Pacific Parlor car attendant in the post immediately prior to this one (below), what a contrast between the two - between a guy who loved his job -- and one who apparently didn't give a damn.

While it is not an unusual occurrence, this train did not have the two usual GE Genesis power units -- our second locomotive was of a type normally used for freight operations, although it did belong to Amtrak.  It looked kind of odd, sandwiched into the streamlined consist of an Amtrak Superliner. They do use them frequently when a Genesis unit is not available – I have seen photos of them before in Amtrak trains.

I slept well; I always do on trains for some reason. Maybe it is a function of contentment and rhythm. I slept from about 2100 in Oakland until 0530 the next morning somewhere just north of Dunsmuir (CA). The train had about 90 minutes of stopped time overnight -- probably in small pieces.  Some of that was station time too. We were mostly on time the entire journey; I have read that on-time performance on this route has improved dramatically.

We got into Portland about 15 minutes early; I caught a cab immediately and picked up a rental car at the airport. After a quick lunch at Burgerville (the one I didn’t get on the train), I drove Route 26 and Route 6 to Tillamook, and then the 15 miles or so north on US101 to Rockaway. I stopped at Fred Meyer (a large chain grocery store) and picked up some supplies for breakfast and a 12-pack of Coke, then found my way to the Surfside Resort.

Why I love the beach.
My room was not on the beach as I expected, but was one building removed -- I had a small view of the waves and surf along the edge of the property line. The good news is that this was all only about a 200-foot walk between the buildings to the beach. The room was very nice, not luxurious, but clean and modern, with a nice gas fireplace, a flat screen TV and a DVD player. I brought my own movies, so I didn't have to rent any of theirs. The kitchenette was about as complete as I've ever seen in a motel. I was very pleased and happy about the accommodation, even if it wasn't an "ocean-view" room.  

I had been a little miffed about that at first, at check-in and before I saw the accommodations.  After I saw the room, I felt it would have been ridiculous to make a fuss about the less than perfect view.

I did have that one little corner view though... the very best thing about it was the price was so low I almost felt like a criminal. I felt like I was taking advantage of these people!  The same room on any other beach anywhere would have been at least $150 a night and I got it for less than half that. Of course prices are higher in the peak season, but still reasonable. I’d definitely stay there again.


I only ate one meal out, dinner on Sunday. I was there from Saturday evening until Monday afternoon. Sunday breakfast was cereal and fruit from the grocery. Micky brought lunch along with Sarah, Henry and Emmy; great subs, potato salad, and chips. Micky is getting all the credit but I have a feeling Henry was responsible for a good part of it. Monday I had the same breakfast as Sunday (leftovers!) and lunch was another sub from the things Mick had brought (leftovers!) I still ended up bringing some fruit, cereal and Cokes home; I just stuffed them into the niches in my Pullman case. Sunday supper was at the "Brewing in the Wind Cafe" (obviously a coffee house although I didn't know that until afterwards; I thought I was at the Pacific Seafood Cafe, or something like that).

Clam Chowder at Oceanside
I had a great clam chowder, pureed in the European style, a salad with Marion berry vinaigrette and a ravioli dish with chicken, broccoli and Mizithra cheese and butter. It was all great -- it didn't seem like a "fancy" place but the menu was definitely inspired. Dessert was an altogether too large raspberry-rhubarb crisp.  It was a soup-bowl-sized portion. Despite how it hurt me to do so, I had to leave part of it behind. The restaurant was about thirty miles south of Rockaway in Oceanside. It was quite a drive for dinner -- but it was Sunday night, many places were closed and I kept driving until I found something besides fast food.

I drove back, stopped again at the grocery, and watched a movie in the room – “Babette's Feast.” I got some popcorn at the store but didn't even nuke it; I just wasn't hungry much after that supper. I slept late both mornings, arising about 0930 each day (after awakening about 0800). Very, very nice, what a luxury! I slept with the door opened a few inches each night to get that fresh Pacific breeze and air inside where I could breathe it.  It was only a little bit cold. I know that some people think that I am insane. 

A wide-angle view
On Monday morning I went out to take a couple more photos. I put the wide angle lens on the camera. Hey, it's a wide beach!  So I go out toward the surf on that really nice, hard-packed wet sand between the waves and the softer deep sand?  And I turn around to take a photo of the motel? And a nasty, mean little cold wave sneaked up behind me and soaked mejeans from my knees down to the toes of my beach shoes. That wave came all the way from Japan and it had time to get lousy cold. I was planning a beach walk of about two miles, but who wants to do that with sopping, freezing feet and pant legs? The air temperature was also cold, probably 45 F at the time. So I skipped the walk.

I went back up, changed into dry clothes (and shoes) and packed my stuff for the drive back to Portland.  I had a late checkout, and then hit the road. I stopped at a myrtle-wood craft shop (didn't buy anything, the prices were ridiculous, and besides, I bought something at that same place in 1973 and I still have that) and also at the Tillamook Smoker where I DID buy a couple of things. I had a Micky-leftovers picnic in a little neighborhood park in Beaverton; may the Gods bless Garmin and Micky and Henry. This was after a rainy drive over the coast range on a road I've known since I was 14, drove with my Dad, a warm fuzzy. I turned in my rental car only about an hour late and headed for the airport security queue.

The flight home was almost a straight line between Portland and Phoenix, and landed about 2310; Linda met me at the concourse exit and I was home in bed by 0200, easy. I felt that short-sleep-night a little bit today but I will go to sleep tonight as soon as my sheets are clean and dry and I will "catch up."

I am going back asap and I want to spend a week there next time. Maybe next spring... here's to vacations, even when they're short. The only thing that is not short about vacations is my list of ideas for them.

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