Greetings from the Amtrak Lounge and Old Folks Home at Los Angeles Union Station, where the high-class clientele, frail as they might be, are besides themselves with excitement and revelry - rocking to and fro (mostly fro), stomping their walkers and canes, and throwing bingo ink daubers - over the intellectual fare on tap via the big flatscreen television: WRESTLING!! Are you ready to rummmmmmmmmmmmble!?
I sure am!
Just a few words before we board the Sunset Limited train 2 and get on the iron road headed for the Big Easy...
Departure from the unseasonably warm Casa de Whooz, and the ride aboard Pacific Surfliner 1790 were smooth and enjoyable. With nobody else on the lower level of the cab car (Accessible Coach), and just several bicycles to keep us company, Team Whooz whiled away the time alternately yawning, dozing, counting big corporate Christmas trees of lights visible from the train, and - over the Santa Susana Pass from Simi Valley to Chatsworth - trying to guess whether or not we were running inside tunnels (more difficult than you might think in the darkness of early evening!).
The recently-opened 1st/Business Class holding pen on an upper floor of LAX is an improvement, including chairs of a type we've not seen before: tuck-away electrical outlets on the sides, and swiveling platforms with beverage holders for holding stuff such as this laptop, snacks, medications for the seniors, or what have you. Very nice, very comfortable, and unfortunately very ugly; but look whooz talking, eh? Functional is what counts here. Team Whooz took photos, but is unanimously too lazy to offload, process, and upload 'em for your perusal right now.
One flaw worth mentioning is the incredibly brief interval that the elevator doors remain open. Unless people break like racehorses from a starting gate, not more than a couple are getting aboard or out before the narrow doors shut. With Alice in a wheelchair and me behind her lugging rolling carry-ons it just wasn't happening for either entering or exiting. And if anybody is coming off, forget it; people waiting to board will have to hit the button again.
Team Whooz Executive Assistant Alice has left the premises to go flitting about the glamorous and world famous Alameda Street Miracle Eighth Mile. We're not often around here after dark, and even more rarely after dark during the holiday season. What with Mexican-themed tourist trap Olvera Street just across Alameda I'd guess she's hunting down some Christmas cacti and assorted other Feliz Navidad accoutrements of a latin persuasion. Union Station has a heavily decorated big-ass tree near the info booth inside the Alameda entrance.
As has been discussed here in other forums, great hall seating divvied up between Amtrak and Metrolink customers. The grand old chairs are downright disfigured by the barrier webbing, stanchions, and taped signs instructing who may and may not sit where; Amtrak here, Metrolink over there, and a group of seats cordoned off, sans signs, which apparently represents a non-sitting no man's land verboten to all.
All for now, and wow; way more rant than I'd expected to hack out!
Oh yeah: good, solid Wi-Fi signal after getting the security key (which looks suspiciously like a local phone number) from the check-in desk.
I sure am!
Just a few words before we board the Sunset Limited train 2 and get on the iron road headed for the Big Easy...
Departure from the unseasonably warm Casa de Whooz, and the ride aboard Pacific Surfliner 1790 were smooth and enjoyable. With nobody else on the lower level of the cab car (Accessible Coach), and just several bicycles to keep us company, Team Whooz whiled away the time alternately yawning, dozing, counting big corporate Christmas trees of lights visible from the train, and - over the Santa Susana Pass from Simi Valley to Chatsworth - trying to guess whether or not we were running inside tunnels (more difficult than you might think in the darkness of early evening!).
The recently-opened 1st/Business Class holding pen on an upper floor of LAX is an improvement, including chairs of a type we've not seen before: tuck-away electrical outlets on the sides, and swiveling platforms with beverage holders for holding stuff such as this laptop, snacks, medications for the seniors, or what have you. Very nice, very comfortable, and unfortunately very ugly; but look whooz talking, eh? Functional is what counts here. Team Whooz took photos, but is unanimously too lazy to offload, process, and upload 'em for your perusal right now.
One flaw worth mentioning is the incredibly brief interval that the elevator doors remain open. Unless people break like racehorses from a starting gate, not more than a couple are getting aboard or out before the narrow doors shut. With Alice in a wheelchair and me behind her lugging rolling carry-ons it just wasn't happening for either entering or exiting. And if anybody is coming off, forget it; people waiting to board will have to hit the button again.
Team Whooz Executive Assistant Alice has left the premises to go flitting about the glamorous and world famous Alameda Street Miracle Eighth Mile. We're not often around here after dark, and even more rarely after dark during the holiday season. What with Mexican-themed tourist trap Olvera Street just across Alameda I'd guess she's hunting down some Christmas cacti and assorted other Feliz Navidad accoutrements of a latin persuasion. Union Station has a heavily decorated big-ass tree near the info booth inside the Alameda entrance.
As has been discussed here in other forums, great hall seating divvied up between Amtrak and Metrolink customers. The grand old chairs are downright disfigured by the barrier webbing, stanchions, and taped signs instructing who may and may not sit where; Amtrak here, Metrolink over there, and a group of seats cordoned off, sans signs, which apparently represents a non-sitting no man's land verboten to all.
All for now, and wow; way more rant than I'd expected to hack out!
Oh yeah: good, solid Wi-Fi signal after getting the security key (which looks suspiciously like a local phone number) from the check-in desk.