We've loved everything about the Hostel International, Washington DC - from the free bananas, free towels, eat-all-you-like breakfast, lovely hot showers, excellent wifi, comfortable bed, desk in the room, to the friendly, helpful staff. We can't recommend it highly enough. As we leave on Wednesday morning, to catch the train to Charlottesville, we hand over a few dollars for the "staff tips box".
"We don't have a staff tips box," says the receptionist, surprised.
"Well, buy some flowers with it," I suggest.
As we look for the right bus stop for the train station, we see the bus coming. It stops near us at traffic lights. Reg asks the driver where the stop is, and he indicates that it's just down the road, on the other side of the crossroads. The bus trundles off as the lights turn green, and luckily, the pedestrian red "stop" hand has changed to a white hand, and the "countdown" has begun. We dash across the road, luggage in tow ( my super-glide suitcase is in its element here), and the bus driver waits for us. We've found this a familiar feature up until now in America - the bus drivers (all black American so far) seem to have a lot more patience than some bus drivers in UK. They also seem to want to be helpful.
We have over an hour to wait for the train. I'm amazed at the inside of Union Station, which incorporates a shopping mall, with coffee bars and diners too. We decide to have a coffee and green tea, even though at 9.45 am it's a bit early for my mid-morning coffee. The latte is lovely with a delicious froth on top, so different from the insipid latte I've experienced in some other places. I think the Americans generally favour strong black coffee, which is usually too strong for me.
As we sit in the cafe I spot an H&M store opposite, and leave Reg with the luggage while I wander off to have a browse. I end up buying a jumper - my first additional luggage!
We join the seated waiting area for our train; as in China, you can't go onto the platform until the train guard lets you through the gate. We greet the young man and woman sitting opposite us; they indicate with beaming smiles that they are deaf. I take out my trusty notebook, and soon the young woman and myself are having a conversation in writing! I discover that they are travelling around America with YWAM - Youth With a Mission.
"Is that a Christian organisation?" I scribble.
The young woman nods and smiles. "Why are you two here? Going to where?" she writes.
I explain that we're travelling around America for 2 and a half months, and tell her our itinerary.
"Wow!" she says. But their trip is also long - until 5 August - and is going all over America - in a 15 - seater van. I tell the young couple that it's really good to meet some fellow Christians, and they wish us well.
"Seniors first!" the train guard calls out, and we realise that that's us - anyone over the age of 62 in America is regarded as a senior, at least for the purposes of Amtrak, the national rail network. We get in the queue and another "Senior" lady behind us remarks to me, inspecting my mind-of-its-own suitcase:
"Whad a lovely purple bag! You don't often see that colour!"
"We're from England," I reply. "So you call a case a bag?"
"Well, either a bag, or a suitcase," she replies. "But we wouldn't just call it a case."
The lady's husband starts to tell me how he spent time in England as a soldier in the 60's; then the platform gate opens and we make our way to the train.
Another train guard helps us to load our luggage - the carriage is high above the track and there are steep steps up to it. Customer service is a high priority with Amtrak, as it is all over America, especially perhaps in the hospitality industry. It's wonderful travelling on USA trains - really comfortable, plenty of legroom, plus a plug for the netbook at every seat. There's supposed to be free Wifi but we don't seem able to access it.
Our last lunch on the train was lovely chicken breast with salad, but the bread was a bit too sweet-tasting. This time Reg brings back a turkey sandwich; the bread is nice, but the turkey is reconstituted turkey ham and much too salty for Reg's taste.
The train journey to Charlottesville takes about 2.75 hours. Our hostel is a couple of miles from the station with no direct bus, so for the first time in America, we take a taxi. The driver, a black American, is friendly and gives us his card, in case we need him while we are staying in Charlottesville. The taxi fare is metered, and at $7.5 dollars is reasonable.
The hostel is really a B&B and is superb. Like a country cottage, peaceful and pastel-walled, surrounded by garden and trees, with the sound of birdsong through the open window, Bliss! It seems that the hostel is managed by four different people, who aren't here all the time - there are only 3 rooms in the "inn" (there is more shared sleeping accommodation in another building to the back of us - the cost there would have been cheaper, but we wanted a double room to ourselves). We're given a key to our room and to the outer doors, shown where the kitchen and bathroom is, and left to our own devices. There's a phone we're allowed to use for local calls, and a computer, and free wifi. And food in the fridge for breakfast.
Reg orders our new tablet from Amazon.com in America and arranges to have it sent to our next accommodation, having liaised with the management there. After a rest, we're ready to go out in search of an evening meal. As we leave the inn we meet a Japanese American who introduces herself as Yumiko. We decide to eat together and just down the road find a "tapas" diner bar. Inside, the diner is heaving with young people, music,noise and all the tables are full - a surprising contrast to the peaceful, sleepy atmosphere of this quiet corner of Charlottesville.
We finally get our food and spend the evening exchanging information about ourselves, our lives and our families, and graduate on to political issues, and putting the world to rights. Yumiko is then able to give us details of a website which will enable us to book a tent-cabin in Yosemite National Park, something Reg had wanted to do originally, but had difficulty arranging. If we book this, it will mean re-jigging our stay at either Los Angeles or San Francisco, but could be well worth it.
Worryingly I get a message from "3" on my phone telling me the cost of calls, texts, and downloads - and I notice my phone provider in America has suddenly switched from T-mobile to something else. Reg immediately switches off the roaming facility on my phone and forbids me to text or call anyone. After a short while, I notice the provider switches back to T- mobile, and I receive another text from 3 - I have "feel at home" free roaming, calls and texts now - to the limits of my normal package back home. I'm still a bit anxious about all this and will later call "3" again to clarify. A huge phone bill at the end of the month from "3" would not enhance our holiday!
"We don't have a staff tips box," says the receptionist, surprised.
"Well, buy some flowers with it," I suggest.
As we look for the right bus stop for the train station, we see the bus coming. It stops near us at traffic lights. Reg asks the driver where the stop is, and he indicates that it's just down the road, on the other side of the crossroads. The bus trundles off as the lights turn green, and luckily, the pedestrian red "stop" hand has changed to a white hand, and the "countdown" has begun. We dash across the road, luggage in tow ( my super-glide suitcase is in its element here), and the bus driver waits for us. We've found this a familiar feature up until now in America - the bus drivers (all black American so far) seem to have a lot more patience than some bus drivers in UK. They also seem to want to be helpful.
We have over an hour to wait for the train. I'm amazed at the inside of Union Station, which incorporates a shopping mall, with coffee bars and diners too. We decide to have a coffee and green tea, even though at 9.45 am it's a bit early for my mid-morning coffee. The latte is lovely with a delicious froth on top, so different from the insipid latte I've experienced in some other places. I think the Americans generally favour strong black coffee, which is usually too strong for me.
As we sit in the cafe I spot an H&M store opposite, and leave Reg with the luggage while I wander off to have a browse. I end up buying a jumper - my first additional luggage!
We join the seated waiting area for our train; as in China, you can't go onto the platform until the train guard lets you through the gate. We greet the young man and woman sitting opposite us; they indicate with beaming smiles that they are deaf. I take out my trusty notebook, and soon the young woman and myself are having a conversation in writing! I discover that they are travelling around America with YWAM - Youth With a Mission.
"Is that a Christian organisation?" I scribble.
The young woman nods and smiles. "Why are you two here? Going to where?" she writes.
I explain that we're travelling around America for 2 and a half months, and tell her our itinerary.
"Wow!" she says. But their trip is also long - until 5 August - and is going all over America - in a 15 - seater van. I tell the young couple that it's really good to meet some fellow Christians, and they wish us well.
"Seniors first!" the train guard calls out, and we realise that that's us - anyone over the age of 62 in America is regarded as a senior, at least for the purposes of Amtrak, the national rail network. We get in the queue and another "Senior" lady behind us remarks to me, inspecting my mind-of-its-own suitcase:
"Whad a lovely purple bag! You don't often see that colour!"
"We're from England," I reply. "So you call a case a bag?"
"Well, either a bag, or a suitcase," she replies. "But we wouldn't just call it a case."
The lady's husband starts to tell me how he spent time in England as a soldier in the 60's; then the platform gate opens and we make our way to the train.
Another train guard helps us to load our luggage - the carriage is high above the track and there are steep steps up to it. Customer service is a high priority with Amtrak, as it is all over America, especially perhaps in the hospitality industry. It's wonderful travelling on USA trains - really comfortable, plenty of legroom, plus a plug for the netbook at every seat. There's supposed to be free Wifi but we don't seem able to access it.
Our last lunch on the train was lovely chicken breast with salad, but the bread was a bit too sweet-tasting. This time Reg brings back a turkey sandwich; the bread is nice, but the turkey is reconstituted turkey ham and much too salty for Reg's taste.
The train journey to Charlottesville takes about 2.75 hours. Our hostel is a couple of miles from the station with no direct bus, so for the first time in America, we take a taxi. The driver, a black American, is friendly and gives us his card, in case we need him while we are staying in Charlottesville. The taxi fare is metered, and at $7.5 dollars is reasonable.
The hostel is really a B&B and is superb. Like a country cottage, peaceful and pastel-walled, surrounded by garden and trees, with the sound of birdsong through the open window, Bliss! It seems that the hostel is managed by four different people, who aren't here all the time - there are only 3 rooms in the "inn" (there is more shared sleeping accommodation in another building to the back of us - the cost there would have been cheaper, but we wanted a double room to ourselves). We're given a key to our room and to the outer doors, shown where the kitchen and bathroom is, and left to our own devices. There's a phone we're allowed to use for local calls, and a computer, and free wifi. And food in the fridge for breakfast.
Reg orders our new tablet from Amazon.com in America and arranges to have it sent to our next accommodation, having liaised with the management there. After a rest, we're ready to go out in search of an evening meal. As we leave the inn we meet a Japanese American who introduces herself as Yumiko. We decide to eat together and just down the road find a "tapas" diner bar. Inside, the diner is heaving with young people, music,noise and all the tables are full - a surprising contrast to the peaceful, sleepy atmosphere of this quiet corner of Charlottesville.
We finally get our food and spend the evening exchanging information about ourselves, our lives and our families, and graduate on to political issues, and putting the world to rights. Yumiko is then able to give us details of a website which will enable us to book a tent-cabin in Yosemite National Park, something Reg had wanted to do originally, but had difficulty arranging. If we book this, it will mean re-jigging our stay at either Los Angeles or San Francisco, but could be well worth it.
Worryingly I get a message from "3" on my phone telling me the cost of calls, texts, and downloads - and I notice my phone provider in America has suddenly switched from T-mobile to something else. Reg immediately switches off the roaming facility on my phone and forbids me to text or call anyone. After a short while, I notice the provider switches back to T- mobile, and I receive another text from 3 - I have "feel at home" free roaming, calls and texts now - to the limits of my normal package back home. I'm still a bit anxious about all this and will later call "3" again to clarify. A huge phone bill at the end of the month from "3" would not enhance our holiday!
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