Washington Heights and Inwood, the northernmost neighbourhoods on the island, are remnants of that undulation, and little known ones at that. A stroll or bike ride through them reveals not only what the island would have looked like pre-development, but also many a hidden treasure. Towards the end of summer this year, I set out to find out just that!

11 miles after leaving my house on a warm Sunday morning, I made my first stop at 156th & Broadway. There, occupying a full city block sits Audobon Terrace, a complex of eight early 20th-century Beaux Arts buildings, named after John James Audobon, a French-American ornithologist, on who’s land the structures stand.

These heritage buildings were former homes to the American Numismatic Society and the American Geographical Society but today house a church, a college, and sundry other cultural institutions. As a courtesy to my readers, and having found out the hard way myself, I should warn you that the entire complex is closed on Sundays!

A short ride from Audobon Terrace brings up the Jumel Terrace Historic District – a collection of late 19th-century row houses and apartment buildings, in the Queen Anne and Romanesque style.

Located along St.Nicholas Ave., between 160th and 162nd streets, these charming, and most unique wood and brick buildings occupy an area of about 4 acres, one that is made up of quiet little cobble stone streets and century old trees.

The prize of this small historic district, however, is undoubtedly Morris-Jumel Mansion. Built in 1765, this Georgian edifice served as a headquarters for both sides in the American Revolution, and is today the oldest surviving house in the borough of Manhattan!

About a half-mile north of the historic district lies the 130-acre Highbridge Park, the neighbourhoods largest. Akin to its geologic makeup, the park has seen its fortunes rise and fall, and rise again! Today, it is in the midst of a resurgence – aided in no small measure by actress Bette Midler’s New York Restoration Project – and the effects of this can be seen in the upkeep of its greenway, one of the city’s most picturesque!

The park gets it’s name from the neighbouring High Bridge, which connects Manhattan to the Bronx. Built in 1848 as a part of the Croton Aqueduct system, it is the oldest surviving bridge in the city, predating the Brooklyn Bridge by 4 decades!

The bridge has been closed to foot traffic since the 70s – although plans are in place to reopen it as an extension to the park – but the greenway I rode along still affords great views of this most elegant piece of history.

About a quarter-mile west of Highbridge Park lies New York-Presbyterian, a prestigious University hospital affiliated to Columbia and Cornell.  Occupying several city blocks along Broadway, it is the hood’s largest tenant! Its 20-acre campus comprises buildings old and new, with the most striking ones bearing Art Deco embellishments.

Right across from the campus is the Fort Washington Avenue Armory, one of five in the city. Once home to the 22nd Regiment, this century old Classical Revival structure today hosts the National Track & Field Hall of Fame. It is considered to be the largest indoor venue in the world for school and college invitationals, and given that it occupies an area of almost 2 acres, that isn’t very hard to imagine!

Not to be outdone by the behemoths that are the Armory and the Hospital, a row of four beautifully maintained pre-war apartment buildings stand gracefully along Fort Washington Avenue. The scene repeats itself time and again as you ride further north – this neighbourhood, as with many others on the island, is blessed with some truly wonderful architecture!

The earliest settlers in Washington Heights were the Irish, European Jews and a smattering of Greeks. About three decades ago, the demographic changed considerably, and today, Central Americans – notably Dominicans – make up a majority of the residents!

A natural outcome of this is that the neighbourhood serves up some excellent Caribbean fare! I stopped for lunch at a local institution by the name of Malecon, where the interiors were garish, knowing Spanish a plus, the service warm, and the Rotisserie Chicken spot on

Sitting right across Broadway from Malecon is another area landmark – the very majestic, albeit a little run down, United Palace Theatre – formerly the Loews 175th St Theatre. Built in 1930, in what some have described as a ‘Byzantine-Romanesque-Indo-Hindu-Sino-Moorish-Persian-Eclectic-Rococo-Deco’ style, the building is currently used as a church, and a concert venue! Neil Young, Bob Dylan, The Smashing Pumpkins and Björk, among others, have performed here!

The neighbourhood gets it’s name from Fort Washington, the Revolutionary War camp of George Washington and his men! A plaque along Ft.Washington Ave. commemorates the spot, and the site today is occupied by Bennett Park. Within it is a large outcrop of Manhattan Schist – not any old rock this – at a respectable 265 ft above m.s.l., it is the highest naturally occurring point in the borough!

The General may have lost the war but he sure knew how to pick the best site

As did the developers of Hudson View Gardens, a 1920′s Tudor-style apartment complex that lies along the western edge of Bennett Park, offering generous views of the same, and of course, the Hudson!

A peculiarity of this neighbourhood, brought on by its hilly topography no doubt – and yet unknown to many – is the presence of step streets! There are a handful in the area, and the longest of these is 187th St between Ft.Washington Ave. and Overlook Terrace. There are 130 steps in all and should you choose to descend – or ascend – the same, you will begin to appreciate why ‘Heights’ features in the hoods name

Washington Heights meets the neighbourhood of Inwood at Dyckman St. Having covered Inwood on previous occasion, I skirted it via the Hudson greenway. My final destination for the day was the very tip of Inwood Hill Park, – the northernmost point of the island – where I waited eagerly to witness the crossing of the Spuyten Duyvil swing bridge by an Amtrak train!

Looking around, I couldn’t help but wonder how much Manhattan had changed since George Washington’s time – an island he fought very hard to protect! I was confident, however, that he would have been proud of what was left behind!

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A full set of pics can be seen here.

No doubt, I have experienced such climes previously – and with humidity to boot – but it has been years since I was home over the summer, and somehow the mind associates such extreme temperatures less so with North America as it does with the Indian subcontinent!

It is absolutely scorching outside, as I leave the much cooler confines of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport, and wait curbside for my friend to pick me up. He has graciously offered to show me around for the second half of the day, but there’s not a lot one can do by means of sightseeing, in weather like this. So we spend the afternoon riding the city’s new and spiffy looking light rail system, all 20-miles of it!

Apart from being surrounded by a handful of mountain ranges, the city is largely flat, sprawling (it is the largest capital city in the US), lacking in soul, and evidently, quite boring! To be fair though, I have also chosen the worst time to be there!

After meeting up with another friend that evening, we have dinner at a local Mexican restaurant and then begin our journey to Flagstaff, some 150 miles and 2.5 hours to the north! We reach there closer to midnight, and I turn in shortly after. As the night wears on, however, 6 more like minded individuals from across the United States, will begin to descend on our hotel in Flagstaff, and awake in the morning to begin a 2-day meet – the 2nd annual Indian Railway Fan Club of North America Convention! And this time around, there’s everything official about it

With breakfast and pleasantries out of the way, we lock ourselves into the conference room and get down to business – immersing ourselves in a series of riveting presentations, enthralling discussions and loud debates – covering pretty much anything related to our common interest, trains! Or what the uninitiated might refer to as mind-numbing chatter!

We still have a couple of hours of daylight when we emerge from our marathon ‘indoor’ session and decide to use the time looking around Flagstaff. Having gained about 6000 feet in elevation over Phoenix, things are considerably cooler too! It is my second visit to the town, and since the first one was extremely brief, I’m hoping to see a little more of it this time. But as one would expect from a group of 9 rail enthusiasts, we end up spending most of our time at the station watching an endless parade of freight trains roll by!

A lot has changed in Arizona since my last visit to the state in ’03 – the passing of the very controversial Senate Bill 1070 for one – which basically requires an ‘alien’ to carry a valid immigration document, on their person, at all times! Ridiculous as this new law is, older, weirder ones still persist supposedly, like those relating to firearms! As we drive around town in fading light, it comes as a bit of a shock to see signs like this in a downtown area, but my friends assure me that it should be the least of my surprises! Apparently, the concealed carriage of a weapon is completely legal in this state and does not even require a permit! Talk about bizarre!!

Having the privilege of ‘alien’ status in this country, I’ve made it a point to bring along my passport, of course, but have so far not been checked. Phew! Riding on that luck, we decide to venture track side post-dinner, and record the passage of the westbound ‘Southwest Chief‘ through Flagstaff.

The ‘Chief’ is late on this occasion but that gives us plenty of time to set up our tripods and figure out our camera settings. When it finally pulls up, we try various permutations and combinations of long exposure shots. The initial results for me are far from heartening, but on my fourth attempt, I luck out! During my 20-second long exposure, an eastbound freighter rounds the bend and its headlights provide just the right amount of illumination for the scene

Day 2 is our ‘outdoor’ session, and not to take away anything from all the knowledge we gained the day prior, this is the one we are most looking forward to! After breakfast, we head some 15 miles east to the little town of Winona. It is a beautifully clear day and the drive there is pretty too – rolling countryside, with mountains all around. There’s very little traffic that early in the morning and Winona is reached in good time.

As we exit I-40 onto a country road, we encounter the most intriguing of vehicles, er contraptions! And rather inappropriately named too! A locomotive by the same name set the world speed record for steam traction back in the day, and to aid that effort they probably thought the better of carrying a bicycle and half motorcycle along!

Winona finds mention in the song ‘Route 66‘ and country singer Wynonna Judd is named after it. Other than that though, it has little else to its credit! But its sheer location, just east of the San Francisco Peaks, does provide some rather dramatic vistas, and a stunning setting to photograph trains! It also helps reaffirm our choice of out-of-the-way Arizona as the venue for our second convention!!

The Burlington Northern Santa Fe railroad’s mainline keeps us entertained for hours on end and there is nary a dull moment on our watch! But the warmth of the sun, to put it mildly, catches up with us eventually, and we head back to Flagstaff to break for lunch.

The town of Williams lies on historic Route 66, about 40 miles to the west of Flagstaff.  Located close to the South Rim of Grand Canyon National Park, it is a major tourist stop. Among other things, it also boasts the southern terminus of the Grand Canyon Railway!

The railway runs a daily service along it’s 65-mile route to the South Rim. By the time we get there, however, that service has departed, but on this weekend there is a special steam hauled train doing several short, 10-mile, round-trips.

The locomotive in question – #4960 – was built in 1923 by Baldwin in Pennsylvania and served on the Midwestern Chicago, Burlington & Quincy (CB&Q) railroad before being retired from service in the 50′s. Once coal-fired, it is now run on waste vegetable oil! Never mind the semantics though – it is every bit a performer – hissing steam, belching black smoke, tooting loudly, and clanking away merrily up the grade!

The train it pulls is made up of 4 beautiful old carriages, dating from the early 20th-century. Compared to their more modern counterparts, not only do these carriages ooze character, but also allow you some much needed leeway to better enjoy the journey

Sedona is our final stop for the day and while it doesn’t quite qualify for an ‘outdoor session’ in railfan speak, it is a destination in it’s own right! The town lies about 60 miles to the southeast of Williams and State Route 89A is the most convenient way to get there.

SR89A cuts through the Coconino National Forest, following the course of Oak Creek Canyon for most part. In the last 12 miles leading up to Sedona, red rock formations, characteristic to these parts, first come into view. The wind-battered rocks are staggering to look at, and given that the road is narrow, steep and winding, am kind of glad not to be on the wheel this once!

Every new turn presents a breathtaking vista, accompanied by the oohs and aahs of fellow travelers! The journey to Sedona is, simply put, stunning! I would go to the extent of saying it is possibly one of the most scenic routes I’ve driven through in North America.

Our progress through SR89A is slow to begin with but that’s hardly reason to complain given the fabulous terrain we’re passing through. The closer we get to Sedona, however, the more backed up traffic is! Given that we have every intention of seeing the town’s famous red rocks at sunset, we now begin to worry, of course! Light is fast fading and the traffic shows no signs of abating!

Vortex Point, located a little outside of town, offers the best views in the house but by the time we get there, it is already dusk! Still, the scene that greets the eye is a surreal one – an array of gorgeous red sandstone mesas and buttes stretch across the panorama, for as long as the eye can see. It’s easy then to appreciate why Sedona has served as a backdrop for many a Hollywood production!

PS – I started writing this post on the 29th of October, more than 3 months after I had returned from Arizona. Not only had the summer come to an end by then but it also happened to be snowing outside my window!!! Seasons change, time flies, and life goes on, but the impressions of a destination remain etched in one’s mind

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A full set of pics can be seen here and here.

The centre of Prague, though not far from Ruzyne, isn’t particularly well connected to the airport, as European capitals go! A combination of Bus + Tram / Metro usually does the trick but since we had a 6 AM flight out of London, we make our way to the taxi rank – definitely the quickest, but also the most overpriced way of getting downtown!

We check in to the very conveniently located Hotel Astoria, drop off our bags and make our way out to the Old Town or staré Město. The sky is overcast and the forecast for the next few days’ calls for equally gloomy weather, with more than a chance of rain! Perfect timing, I think to myself!

Minutes later, as if a switch has been turned on, the gloom vanishes from my face only to be replaced by a wide smirk! I am facing Staroměstské náměstí (Old Town Square), possibly one of the most charming city squares I have ever laid my eyes on. At the centre of it performs a choir; several stunning old buildings surround the plaza, and the aroma of Czech Country Ham fills the air! It’s good to finally be in Prague

The ham does well to divert our attention from the live performance, and after quickly partaking in our first round of red meat for the day, we slowly take in our immediate surrounds. The centrepiece of the square is quite easily the 15th-century Týnský Chrám (Church of Our Lady before Týn) which flanks its eastern boundary. On the western edge of the plaza stands Pražský Orly, the tower bearing Prague’s Astronomical Clock, a city icon in its own right!

Dividing the city’s old and new quarters is Národní, an important east – west artery, home to one of Prague’s cultural landmarks, Národní divadlo or National Theatre. Národní is also lined with several interesting Cafes, pandering to the many needs of the theatrical minded! We stroll into Cafe Louvre, which opened its doors to the city’s intellectual set back in 1902, and has since served, among others, Franz Kafka and Albert Einstein! The menu’s probably changed since their time, but one thing persists – pipe-touting smokers!!

Národní is a busy tram route and within minutes we are deposited at the base of Petřín Hill, where a Funicular whisks us up to the summit. Petřín boasts one of the city’s largest parks, an Eiffel Tower look alike, an observatory, a rose garden, a couple of churches, a stadium turned concert venue, and occupying prime real estate atop the hill, Strahovský Klášter, a magnificent old monastery dating to the early 12th-century!

The monastery complex is home to a variety of buildings, varying in vintage – 12th to 17th century – and architectural style. But the real gem within all those wonderful structures is the monastery library, comprising several halls, each and every one of them truly exquisite!

Right outside Strahov Monastery is Bellavista, a Cafe selling overpriced Cappuccinos and the promise of a view. The Coffee fails to deliver but Bellavista, at least, lives up to its name!

It is a day full of weddings in Prague, and newly weds have a tradition of driving away in vintage Czech cars. As we sip on an insufficient dose of caffeine, a banger – to borrow from British slang – struggles up a steep country road leading to the monastery.  It is a surreal scene, a bit of a time warp – the old Škoda, the majestic backdrop – but this is real life, this is Prague, I tell myself

As Bellavista proved, Coffee can be a hit or miss item in Prague, so you’re probably better of sticking to Beer! And it’s probably just as well – for starters, Beer is often cheaper than bottled water in most places, and if anyone knows a thing or two about brewing the stuff, it’s the Czechs!! They’ve been at it for almost a millennium, and with every bit of respect to the Germans and Belgians, the Pilsner was invented here!!

The Czech Republic is today home to over 100 breweries churning out close to 500 brews, and the Czechs acknowledge that fact fully, returning the favour by consuming more Beer than any other nation on this planet! So without much ado, we begin a long night of drinking in what is fittingly known as the Beer capital of the world!! First stop – Pivovarský klub – an institution in Central Prague, where I kick off with Nefiltrovany Sv Lezak or unfiltered pale Lager!

The great thing about Czech Beer is that the morning after brings no hangovers whatsoever! [Not entirely true, but we'll leave it at that!!] What it does warrant, however, as any self-respecting brew should, is to work off all those carbs! That’s where the city’s amazingly pedestrian friendly streets come in handy!

A short stroll northwest of the Old Town brings us to Josefov, the city’s Jewish Quarter. Jewish settlements in Prague began as early as the 10th-century and the area served as a Jewish ghetto till the 18th-century. The Nazi occupation of Prague was expected to wipe out all that remained of the area, but miraculously, the town hall, old cemetery and no less than six Synagogues – including Europe’s oldest, a 13th-century structure – survived!  Today, the area comprises the city’s smallest district, but the wealth of architecture contained within serves as a microcosm to everything Prague stands for, culturally and aesthetically!

Pařížská, the main drag in the Jewish Quarter, rivals Fifth Avenue with all its high end retail, and as a throng of tourists window shop, I point my attention skyward. For if you’ve managed to appreciate the city in crappy weather – like I have – God help you when the sun comes out

The great thing about travel – I’ve come to realise in my old age – is that it never takes too long to work off the excesses from the previous night, or for that matter, breakfast from the same morning. Before you know it, you’re ready for another big lunch!

From the Jewish Quarter, we make our way down to Křemencova, a pristine street in New Town measuring no more than two blocks. It’s claim to fame, U Fleků, a brewery that dates from 1499! To put things in perspective, Columbus discovered America 7 years prior!! U Fleků stills brews a handful of Beers – as it has been doing for over 500 years – but the focus for us here is more on Czech food, hoping to sample as much of it after two hugely gratifying meals at Cafe Louvre and Pivovarský klub.

Czech food has been something of a revelation for us thus far – everything from their Goulash, Dumplings, Schnitzels & Wurst – have been done just right! Surprisingly light on the stomach, simple, yet flavourful – a far cry from what one usually associates with German food – the cuisine that influences Czech cooking the most! Accompanied by the house brewed Dark Stout and some Becherovka (Herbal Bitters), we dig in to an absolutely delish serving of Roast Pork Knuckle and Roast Sausage (I told you it was light!) with a generous helping of boiled Potatoes, Cabbage and Peppers on the side.

For all matters tourist, the city is broadly divided into 4 areas – Staré Město (Old Town) and Nové Město (New Town), which lie to the east of the Vltava River, and the Malá Strana (Lesser Town) and Hradčany (Castle District) which lie to its west. Prague’s city centre is extremely compact, and like every other European capital worth its salt, very walkable too!

But if walking isn’t your thing, getting around is still not a problem. The city has excellent public transit – a modern Metro, buses, and one of the largest Tram networks in the world! Trams (or Trolleys) are frequent, cheap and efficient, and quite easily the best way to see the city, if you decide against the pedestrian route! And for Tram lovers like me, the city operates a wide variety of equipment, including vintage trams on weekends and holidays

The Tram is as much a city icon as drinking Beer is a city essential! And the two cometh together in perfect harmony at the southern terminus of Tram route 11, adjacent to which, in a nondescript building, is Prvni Pivni Tramway or the ‘First Beer Tramway’!

Inside, you are rewarded for the trip out to the burbs (20-minutes is all it takes in Praha!) with an all-local crowd watching Football on the telly, a non-English speaking bartender, a fabulous selection of local brews, down-to-earth prices, and some über-cool decor!

Tram-riders and walkers alike should take heed though, for when it comes to exploring the city, the Vltava River isn’t one to be disregarded! A cruise along the Vltava is, indeed, a splendid way of admiring the city, along its storied banks, past its many grand bridges, its system of locks and its river islands. The Vltava also sports a handful of boat restaurants, and at least a couple of boat hotels!

Botel Matylda is one such, and I decide – through some deft Googling beforehand – to make it my digs for my last day in the city! With the Vltava on one side and a 16th-century water tower setting the backdrop, the Botel is made up of 18 rooms, with a sister boat moored alongside, serving as an Italian Restaurant!

My single room is perfectly affordable and very well appointed, and while it doesn’t offer me river views, it does provide me a glimpse of Frank Gehry’s gravity-defying creation, the Dancing House!

Known locally as Tančící dům, it pays homage to Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, often nicknamed ‘Fred & Ginger building’! While Gehry is certainly the better known of the two, equal credit apparently goes to Croatian-Czech architect Vlado Milunić.

Far removed from the Dancing House, and been around from well before Gehry and Milunić’s time, is Katedrála svatého Víta or St.Vitus Cathedral, which lies cradled within the walls of Prague Castle, across the Vltava River. Work on the Cathedral started in 1344 and took the better part of 6 centuries to complete! Today it is the seat of the Archbishop of Prague, and certainly looks the part!

Commonly regarded as one of the best examples of Gothic architecture across Europe (take a bow Notre Dame!), St.Vitus, with its humongous rose window, towering pinnacles, staggering relief work, and gorgeous mosaics, is quite easily the cynosure of Prague Castle.

The Cathedral alone is justification enough to visit the Castle but Hradčany or Castle District has a lot else going for it – palaces (4 of them on last count!), half a dozen royal gardens, several smaller churches in varying architectural styles, galleries, museums and performance spaces, the office of the Czech President, and a tiny street (Golden Lane) lined with miniature 15th-century homes, to name a few! In short, it hasn’t just earned the distinction of being ‘the largest coherent castle complex in the world’ for nothing

Prague Castle also happens to be the highest point in the city, higher even than Petřín Hill! So without the fuss of Bellavista, you get unhindered views of the city from several vantage points along the way. If you end up staring hard enough – as most people do – you begin to appreciate what must have inspired Kafka to write, Einstein to think and Mozart to compose. A city so beautiful, it was spared by Hitler!

As stunning as the city is, it is also immaculately well kept and spotlessly clean! The buildings appear as if they were given a fresh coat of paint just yesterday, the plazas are always spic and span, but its the sidewalks and streets that stand out most of all! To have a significant portion of your city paved in cobblestone is one thing – to keep those cobblestones, and the grooves that separate them, clean, while pedestrians, automobiles and trams tread through, is quite another!

But the city of Prague manages so with aplomb – be it a large commercial square or tiny alleyway, a major thoroughfare or an insignificant side street!

Relative to every other square in Prague, Václavské náměstí (Wenceslas Sq), the city’s largest, is not nearly as charming. Capped on its east end by the grand neoclassical structure that houses the National Museum, it is more boulevard than square. But this busy commercial strip is not without its share of history – in fact, traditionally, it has been the venue of choice for demonstrations, celebrations and public gatherings. It is here that I decide to spend my last afternoon in the city.

As local youth mill around the statue of a mounted Saint Wenceslas, tourists gawk at ‘Calendarium of Totalitarianism‘, an exhibit depicting the post war history of Czechoslovakia, Poland, Hungary and the German Democratic Republic. I join in for a while but realise soon enough that sadly, I have a flight to catch in a matter of hours!

Heading over to one of the food kiosks – there are many on the square, open all night, and serving everything from Wurst to Wine – I get myself a bavorská klobása (Bavarian Sausage) and a can of Pilsner Urquell, and then find myself a suitable bench from which to watch the world go by. I bite into the klobása and take a swig of the chilled Urquell, and in the same instance, almost spit it all out!!! Are my eyes deceiving me??

I look around but no one else seems perturbed by the fact that a perfectly respectable looking gent just walked into the Metro system with a glass of Beer in one hand!! A big fat smile replaces my look of disbelief, I continue eating, and remind myself yet again, you’ve got to love this city

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A full set of pictures from the trip can be viewed here.

ALCO expands to American Locomotive Company. Founded in 1901 in Schenectady NY, it built steam and diesel locomotives till production ended in ’69. If you happen to come across an ALCO lover however, chances are they’ll be fans of the company’s diesels, more than anything else!

On a pleasant June morning in south eastern Pennsylvania, we join them on the ‘Lansdale Day Special’.  It’s been about an hour since we left the town of West Chester and everything appears calm on board till we grind to a halt for an impromptu photo stop! The fans scramble, get into position track side and click away to their hearts content! There’s no mistaking the scene – this is a true ALCO fan trip

The fans are mere spectators though – literally along for the ride! The real stars of the show however, are #1803 & #4230. The former an RS-18 and the latter a C242 class locomotive. Both were built in the 60s in Montreal for the Canadian Pacific Railway. They are now owned and operated by the West Chester Railroad, a tourist railway in Pennsylvania.

But that’s as far as the technicalities go. What, after all, makes an ALCO so special? Its a combination of the sights, sounds and smells peculiar to it – a fine balance, if you will – as any die-hard would attest to! And no doubt, the best way of taking in this multi-sensory experience is by sticking your head out through the window!

The Lansdale Day Special is ‘special’ for good reason! The West Chester Railroad operates along an 8-mile stretch of track, a former commuter line. Once a year, however, they are allowed to operate on SEPTAs (Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority) mainline into Philadelphia, and beyond, at mainline speeds! Due to signaling upgrades expected on the mainline next year, 2011 is to be the last year of this extended operation, and for that reason alone this run is ‘special’!

And so enthusiasts young and old have turned up everywhere – along way side stations, at grade crossings, track side and even along Chester Creek – waving to us enthusiastically, as we glide past them!

30 odd miles separate the town of West Chester from Philadelphia, and although the area in between could be considered the city’s western suburbs, it is far from that! A dense forest cover follows the rail alignment for most part, with the Chester Creek weaving in and out, necessitating several viaducts along the way, and causing the railway to run on an embankment from time to time, offering us sweeping vistas of our surroundings!

A spirited run and some 90 minutes after having left West Chester, we are deposited on to Track 5 of Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station. Expectedly, our arrival there is met with a great deal of excitement, a battery of photographers, and some confused looks from unsuspecting commuters!

30th Street is to be a technical halt, long enough to allow for a look around the station. Given that I’ve gotten off and boarded buses (from and to New York!) several times just outside the station, it’s a real shame I’ve never been inside! Exorbitant prices, poor frequency and slow run times are to blame for that – a sad commentary on how unattractive rail travel has become within the US!

The negatives of rail travel aside, the station itself is a beauty – Neoclassical exterior, grand Art Deco interior – chandeliers, 95-ft high ceilings, the works!! And I’m more than glad to finally lay my eyes on it

In the UK they refer to it as ‘clag’, back in India they call them ‘smokers’, to the untrained eye it’s only exhaust, and very subtly put, it’s simply emissions! And while every environmentalist would cry foul, the ALCO lover would revel in the moment. So it’s not at all surprising when I overhear someone say ‘breathe deeply’, and almost on cue Vic announces, ‘Gentlemen, we have lift off!!!’

We lose time somewhere between Glenside and Lansdale but no one’s really complaining! In fact, if anyone deserves to complain, it should be the Lansdale locals, who have been waiting at their station patiently to greet us into their town. And it is indeed a privilege to be there, for not often is a turnout so big, nor a reception so warm, for a mere train’s arrival

We have a lay over of a couple of hours at Lansdale and after we have had our fill of photographing the ALCOs – if that were even possible – we make our way towards Main St. The annual Lansdale Day fair has been planned to coincide perfectly with the run of the special train (one could argue it is vice versa!), and the street fair has all the usual trappings one would expect at such an event – local merchants displaying their wares, activities for kids, and food, a lot of it I might add!!

There are plenty of choices, of course, and it takes the better part of Main St. to convince me of what to get! I try a Pulled Turkey Sandwich at one of the stalls – a first for me, and I come away suitably impressed – it tastes almost as good as the Pork version! My experimentation goes further with a version of the Potato that traces its roots back to the far east (of Asia!) but is evidently popular in this part of the US! The process of making it is best described here and it’s aptly named Twistix – Potato with a twist!!

More than fueled up for the journey back, we board the ‘Special’ once more and depart Lansdale at a little past 4 in the evening. The bulk of photo stops are to be made on the run back to Philadelphia – 4 in all – and at each of these there is a mad scramble to get to the door first, and then sprint out to the head of the train for a quick shot, or a series of shots, as is often the case!

But the smarter ones never follow the herd! They stay put at their seat, survey the locale carefully and occasionally choose an unorthodox vantage point from which to get that extra special shot

At the corridor end of each carriage is posted a sign that reads, ‘WARNING – Passengers must keep head and arms inside windows’. It is one with good intent, no doubt, but every rail fan worth his/her salt knows better and ignores it blissfully – as do I!! After all, how often in the US does one actually get to put their head out of the window, and that to on a ‘mainline’???

Philadelphia arrival is expectedly late and we miss our connecting Megabus back! Finally, it seems, I’m going to be forced to travel to NYC by train! We choose the cheapest option available – a SEPTA commuter train to Trenton and then a New Jersey Transit (NJT) commuter train into New York’s Penn Station – a slower, more expensive option than the bus, for sure, and by electric trains no less – the ones ALCO fans derogatively refer to as ‘Sparky’s’ !!!

A full set of pics from the trip can be seen here.

It is 7:30 AM at Yesvantpur Junction, a satellite rail terminus in a namesake Bangalore suburb, and we are about to board train #6515 to Mangalore, some 10 hours away, in second class ordinary accommodation! Not long ago, I had fetched my NRI friends from the very posh Taj West End hotel, where they had stayed the night, on arrival from Egypt the previous day!

NRI = Non Resident Indians, and at the risk of inviting the wrath of many a reader, I shall desist from using that term here forth

There’s a nip in the air as we make our way out of Bangalore, and once clear of its industrial burbs, cleaner air, distinctly better views and the promise of a spectacular journey await!

We begin the day’s proceedings with over-sweetened Almond Milk and no sooner have we downed that, does the Idli (steamed rice cake) vendor show up! Jhaal Muri (spicy puffed rice) is next and we chase it all down with some filter Coffee – again, over-sweetened and served in an Espresso sized paper container, which does well to burn our hands. The Idlis have definitely saved the morning!

Meanwhile, the landscape has changed quite dramatically, and with paddy and palm filling our frames, it is typical of what one would expect in the southern reaches of India.

Closer to 11 AM, we roll into charming Arsikere Jn. We will reverse directions here, and to enable the locomotive to run around our train, a 20-minute halt has been provided.

I take a stroll along its platform, which still bears remnants from a simpler era of travel, when daintier Metre Gauge trains plied these parts. The unconventional platform shelter, the graceful old footbridge, and this now marooned refreshment stall stand as testament to those times..

The ‘main line’ continues north from Arsikere into the Karnataka hinterland, whereas our recent direction reversal now puts us on a south western path, headed for the coast.

Leaving the main line has its own joys and we experience the simplest of these at the quaint little wayside station of Bageshpura, where we stop for a crossing.

There is no official Pantry service on train 6515, but in India, that almost never translates into an absence of food supply on a journey! A constant parade of food and beverage vendors has ensued ever since our departure from Yesvantpur, and somewhere between Arsikere and Hasan, the Dosawallah (savoury crepe vendor) appears!

We dig in, and halfway through the first bite, the foodie in me declares, “This is the best Dosa I have eaten, outside of a formal eatery, ever!”

Between Hasan and Sakleshpur, the changes in land form are rapid – palm and paddy have retreated, giving way to terraced farming, rolling countryside and Coffee plantations. And yet, there is no sign of the Coffee vendor, just when we need him!

Instead, I am left wondering what it must be like to sit out on the terrace of this Estate Manager’s bungalow, sipping a hot – or cold – brew, and watching trains roll by!

Sakleshpur brings up the half way point in our journey, and a rather significant one at that – the ghat or mountain pass, the raison d’etre for this journey, begins here!

Over the next 3 hours, we will descend the Deccan plateau through the Subramanya Range, covering no more than 55 km, at a leisurely average of 18.3 km/h!

Not long after we have departed Sakleshpur, the descent begins in full earnest!

The town of Sakleshpur stands 3100 ft above sea level – the approximate altitude we will lose on our way down to the coast. The Subramanya Hills, within which the town is located, rise even higher, to a height of 5700 ft!

Our initial descent is through a thickly wooded section, where a dense green cover leaves us in awe of our surroundings but does little to disclose the elevation we’re at.

Every once in a while, however, it let’s up, and reveals some rather dramatic vistas!

It is the month of January, and other than Assam, nowhere else in India have I witnessed this kind of lushness in the drier months. It is, to be perfectly honest, astounding!

Not only is the area exceptionally green for this time of year but also rather well hydrated! Waterfalls abound, and looking down from a tall viaduct invariably reveals a babbling brook like this..

Over 50 tunnels and more than a 100 bridges – some over 200 feet tall! – make up this highly under rated ghat section. Every tunnel we emerge from, every viaduct we cross, and every curve we round, presents another mesmerizing view – ensuring that we remain transfixed at the doors and windows of our humble second class abode.

And with that, time passes a lot quicker than we’d like!

Towards the end of our descent, just when the topography has begun to level off and things are looking a tad less enchanting than before, the sun breaks through the cloud cover and spreads its rays across the lush Karnataka countryside. For our last glimpse of the same, it is a rather memorable one!

Subramanya Road marks the end of the ghat, and train 6515 is relieved of much of its clientele here – the town being an important place of pilgrimage.

As the crowds make their way out, we scour the platform for some eats and return with piping hot Bondas (batter fried spicy potato) and some sort of milk cake, which is deep fried but not particularly tasty! The Bondas, however, are, and go particularly well with our evening quota of over-sweetened Tea!

We cross the Netravathi River just shy of Bantawala, and the red soil visible to us on a causeway under construction, is evidence that the Konkan Coast isn’t too far away.

Train 6515 is, by now, a few minutes behind its advertised time and the crew, taking advantage of the flat terrain, give it their all. The coastal scape rushes past our windows and soon enough, magic hour descends, forcing the cameras out yet again!

Mangalore Central is eventually reached at 6 pm, the crew having made up a good part of the delay.

The Taxi driver at the station is a little more reasonable than the porter at Yeswantpur, demanding 100 Rupees for the short drive to our hotel. Considering it is a whole 16 Rupees cheaper than our rail fare to Mangalore, I concede

Postscript – the Pinto – Pereira wedding!

Walking back, later that night, from a sumptuous and spicy Mangalorean seafood dinner, we stumble upon the Mangalore Ladies Club, which is playing host to the Pinto – Pereira wedding.

The formal ceremonies are long over by the time we get there, and the crowd has taken to the floor, their drinks, and often, the wrong partners in hand, loosening their ties and letting their hair down to a live band performing, ‘for he’s a jolly good fellow’ and such..

It is rather late for a week night, but the Mangaloreans sure know how to live it up, and have unwittingly provided my friends and me, a delightful end to a wonderful trip

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A full set of pictures can be seen here.

Given the precedent we’ve set over the years for our annual family tradition – same state, different venue – the obvious question would be, why are we back in Kesroli? There are reasons aplenty for this but I’ll start with the simplest and most obvious of the lot – for yet another late, very filling and extremely lengthy lunch, which effortlessly mutates into afternoon tea, and ends up with us retiring on the deck to watch the sun go down..

And just as well, for on this trip, there’s little more we’ll see of the sun!

I wake up at the crack of dawn, camera in hand, but there is none of that famed north India fog, and no bright sun charismatically breaking through it either! Nevertheless, the scene is breathtaking and the morning as magical! And just as it was on our last trip, the early risers always reap the rewards

By the time I’m done with my third helping of breakfast – the porridge is especially good this morning, as is their raspberry jam – the rest of the family joins me! As they begin doing justice to the old Derawal adage, ‘Aur Khao Lalaji, Aur Khao’, (roughly translates to stuff yourselves silly!), I sneak out to the village below.

For the inhabitants of the village, breakfast was at least a few hours before any of us cared or dared to surface, and by this time they are out and about their daily chores. Expectedly, the village wears a deserted look, but an idyllic one nonetheless!

A short walk through the village is followed by a longer one, through endless fields of mustard, in their characteristic fluorescent bloom! It’s a sight I can never seem to tire off, and frankly, no better place than Kesroli to relish it!

In the years to come, no matter how much progress we continue to make as a nation, I hope and pray scenes like this will never change!

One of the best things about Kesroli is it’s remote location, and over the years we’ve learned to choose venues more and more so. After all, the very idea of a reunion is to spend quality time together, ideally, in the comfort of a fabulous property, the older the better!

But often, we learn this the hard way.

Another reunion, another sightseeing sojourn – this time its the City Palace, Alwar or Vinay Vilas Mahal. A sprawling 18th century palace fusing together the best of Rajput and Mughal architectural styles, set to the backdrop of the Aravalli range, capped by a fort (Bala Quila), some 5 km in length!

But that’s where the good news ends! The lower level of the Mahal – through which all visitors must pass – has been usurped by the Government of Rajasthan, and wears every sign of bureaucracy one can imagine!

We kick ourselves for making the effort to go there, and return evermore disheartened. The smarter few who didn’t end up going, of course, have the last laugh!

In a bid to redeem ourselves somewhat, a few of us set off on bicycles, for an hour long ride on country roads, winding our way through fields.

It’s amazing what life’s simpler pleasures can do to wipe out some not so pleasant memories, or so we think to ourselves!

Minutes later there’s a cloudburst and the 5 of us gallant gents – miraculously, the only people riding at the time – are all but drenched!

It is past dusk as we make our way back, and the hill fort beckons like a beacon from afar. Closer up, it appears equally enchanting in the wet as it does in the dry!

The rain ensures that there will be no festivities tonight – no folk performances, singing or dancing. But that does little to deter our collective Derawal spirit – our group may be smaller in size but our raucousness knows no bounds

As the night wears on, and a table for 17 awaits, we are, as always, the last ones to eat!!

Time flies rather quickly when you’re on holiday with loved ones – probably quicker than the time it took you to read this post

As we prepare to leave, the same gentlemen who serenaded us on our arrival 3 days prior, now looks away in sadness.

His get-up, posture and expression will be an enduring memory, no doubt, as will our love for the state to which he belongs, and his village in particular.

It may not be Rajasthan the next time, and we’ll probably never repeat a venue again, but the tradition will and must go on!

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A full set of pics from both trips can be seen here.

This was my third foray into South America, and just like the last two, a rather brief one at that! There were several reasons to justify such a ridiculously short trip – I had very limited vacation days left; I’d managed to get a steal of a fare (details of which are best left out ); my friend Lino was going to be there at the same time; and last but not the least, it was spring in the Southern hemisphere!

The trip was short for sure but the sights, sounds, tastes and smells that I experienced over those three days were as rich and varied as I’ve come to expect of this amazing continent. Spanning a sleepy little town, a historic port city, and of course, the capital, Santiago, here are 10 highlights from my trip, narrated as they happened.

#1. The road to Limache. Like most other countries in South America, Chile too, sadly, shrugged off its passenger rail network over the last few decades. Instead, they replaced it with a super-efficient bus system serving every nook and cranny of their rather lengthy country. Turbus and Pullman were products of this development, and are today the largest nationwide bus companies. From the Pullman terminal in Central Santiago, we set off for Limache, some 100 km and 2 hours away, over the Andean foothills.

As far as road journeys go, I would rate this as one of the most scenic I’ve done! Not for the vistas it has to offer, nor for the thrill of being on a twisty, steep mountain road – but in fact for the drastic change in landscape and the variety of flora that comes packed into those short 2 hours! Arid hills and desert shrub make way for verdant pine forests, then it’s back to hillsides dotted with cacti, over to palm lined vineyards and avocado plantations – all this to the backdrop of  the mightier, snow-capped Andean peaks!

#2. Conversations and Piscos at the Duque’s. Limache wouldn’t normally figure on a visitor’s itinerary, and that’s precisely why I don’t pass up on the opportunity! Lino’s family hails from Limache and Lino knows a thing or two about the town. Better still, his cousin is Alcalde or Mayor of the town and I get a guided tour of its expanse (relatively speaking!) and all its prominent sights – it is the most personalised tour one can hope to get, and I am treated like a true guest of honour!

After dinner, we call on the Duque’s, who’s house in Limache dates back to 1856. Part museum, part film set, it is one of the most exquisite homes I have seen – one that has survived several quakes and still bears the scars of their most recent one. Antiques and relics abound within, and the creeper decked courtyard sports an old fountain and period furniture. I am torn between admiring the place and playing with their ever affectionate canines. I can’t help but think – Hollywood would be hard pressed to art direct this any better!

Spring evenings can get chilly in Limache and while the Duque’s house lacks central heating, it is more than made up for by the warmth of Lino’s family. Pisco Sour is served – a drink claimed by both Chile and Peru to be their own – and conversations flow effortlessly into the night…

#3. The Port of Valparaiso. 45 km to the southwest of Limache lies the town of Valparaiso. A road does exist between the two, but a faster connection is made, for a change, by rail! About 20 minutes before we reach the terminal station of Puerto, I get my first glimpse of the Pacific (from South America i.e.), and the waters are by far the most gorgeous shade of blue I’ve laid my eyes on, anywhere in the world!

Valparaiso is home to Chile’s largest port and the coastal strip adjoining the port is pretty much the only flat stretch of terrain in town. While commerce is transacted there, the bulk of Valparaiso’s population resides on the cerros or hills – steep ones at that – connected to the bottom by a series of Ascensors or Funiculars. Up to 26 Ascensors served the town at one time, and Ascensor Artileria is one of 12 remaining today. Dating back to 1893, it connects Plaza Wheelwright at its base with Paseo 21 de Mayo at its summit. The paseo or terrace commemorates the War of the Pacific and also provides the best vantage point to marvel at Valparaiso’s superb location and challenging topography.

#4. Local flavour at El Membrillo. For lunch, we take a long walk along the promenade of Av Altamirano, with nothing but ocean and sky – and some Pelicans - for company! Lino guides me to his local favourite – El Membrillo – and soon enough the feast begins. As an aperitif we are served Borgonia, a house drink made of Strawberry, Vino Blanco and Asucre. Ceviche served on Clam shells makes up the Hors d’oeuvres, and I accompany all of that with Cristal, one of two big Beer brands in Chile!

As a side I get a Seafood Empanada, accompanied by a surprisingly spicy Salsa! And then it’s time for the main – Merlusa, the local catch for the day, fried to flaky perfection, served with a salad and rice. All of the above for the princely sum of 4000 Chilean Pesos or about 8$ !!!

#5. Riding the Trolley Bus. After a leisurely Latte at the very charming Cafe del Poeta, we stroll across to the bus stop on Plaza Anibel Pinto. Valparaiso operates the largest fleet of vintage trolley buses in the world, which along with it’s Ascensors are considered city icons!

Like true enthusiasts, we let several trolley buses pass – the Swiss ones, the newer American ones, the most recent Chinese ones – till the right one arrives, a Pullman Standard trolley bus, built in Worcester MA in ’52!

The smell of canvas seats, the old lights, fittings and fixtures, that typical twitching sound from the trolley poles powering the vehicle on – all make for a sensory overload. Add to that our route, cutting through the narrow lanes of a historic port city, and this is well and truly a ride back in time!

#6. Restaurant Hamburg. The story goes that a German sailor dropped anchor in Valparaiso a couple of decades ago and wanted to start an eatery where he could have all the German food he craved. He also needed a place to display his collection of maritime memorabilia from around the world – the result was Hamburg!

It’s kitschy interiors include everything from ship’s bells to captain’s hats, historic photographs to shipbuilders plates, from life buoys to medallions and seals. Hamburg is nothing short of a museum, an institution in it’s own right, and at the very least, merchant sailor’s heaven! Apparently, it has good food too!

#7. Sunset at Viña del Mar. Along the bay, some 20 km to Valparaiso’s north lies the seaside resort of Viña del Mar, literally ‘Vineyard by the Sea’! Although technically a part of the Greater Valparaiso area, it is Chile’s fourth largest city and one of it’s best known tourist attractions. We don’t quite make it to its famed beaches but we do manage to beat the crowds on Av Peru nevertheless, and get to the promenade in time for sundown!

The ridge that separates Valparaiso from Viña del Mar can be seen in the distance, and perfectly silhouetted in the foreground is Castillo Wulff, an early 20th-century castle. While relishing the scene, I glance at my watch – it is 8:30 in the evening. The sun would have set in New York some 4 hours earlier!

#8. Plaza de Armas. As far as South American cities go, Santiago appears relatively new and modern, boasting a sleek public transit system, wide roads and sidewalks and several high-rises – the result of a series of earthquakes and the subsequent rebuilding of the city. Architecturally, it pales in comparison to Buenos Aires, and lacks the quaintness of Bogotá, but there is one area in the city that has all the trappings of a Latin American capital – the city’s main square, Plaza de Armas!

Back in the mid 16th century, Pedro de Valdivia founded the city in what was then considered to be the centre of town or centro. Many centuries later, he still commands the best views of the Plaza he built, albeit from his statue!

Catedral Metropolitana, the oldest building on the Plaza (left of pic) dates back to 1745, and is quite the masterpiece within. The Correo Central (central post office) and the Museo Histórico are other noteworthy landmarks, with the rest of the square surrounded by sundry 19th century civic buildings. In the centre of the Plaza, as tourists pose for pictures, locals tout their wares and troupes perform the national dance, Cueca.

#9. Espresso at Cafe Haiti. Just south of Plaza de Armas is Ahumada Paseo, a wide pedestrian only affair, akin to Av Florida in Buenos Aires, and in many ways retail central as far as Santiago goes! As with any retail destination, it has its share of eating and drinking establishments too, and among them is Cafe Haiti.

Chile is not a Coffee producing nation, sourcing most of its beans from neighbouring Colombia and Brazil. Nevertheless it still has a unique Coffee culture, one that is best represented in this Cafe. With an all male clientele, pretty hostesses sporting short skirts and high heels, and some excellent coffee to boot, Cafe Haiti brings it all together! And with only standing room provided along its granite and chrome counters, it truly is a Coffee Bar

#10. Seafood fest at Donde Augusto. North of the Plaza is Mercado Central, the city’s oldest seafood market. A cacophony of fishmonger’s greets us, as we make our way through the narrow, crowded passage. We emerge on to the atrium – a magnificent wrought iron construction dating from the late 19th century – under which sits the culinary bastion, Marisqueria Donde Augusto!

The atmosphere at Donde Augusto can best be likened to a carnival – where the chaos and colour of Crawford Market meets the aura and sophistication of Covent Garden! We settle into our seats – getting a table is not a problem as Lino knows one of the waiters well – and take in the festive spirit around. Chilean Sea Bass (the trade name for Patagonian Toothfish!), the pièce de résistance for me on this trip, is served, and tucking into it in these surrounds is nothing short of magical

Three days, three different places, three distinct experiences – all of it with  ‘local’ flavour, courtesy my good friend Lino! A great way to end a very memorable 2010!

Nos vemos el año que viene!

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A full set of pics can be seen here.

Huntingdon, PA, where we’ll stay for the night, is about 60 miles closer to NYC than Portland, ME is. Thankfully, my journey there is a lot less complicated too! And there’s good reason why I’ve waited this long to get my fix again – to experience it during the Northeast spectacle that is Fall!

The East Broad Top Railroad (EBT) began life in 1874, in the town of Rockhill Furnace, PA. Built to a 3 ft gauge, it carried coal for the Rockhill Iron & Coal Co. (from which the town got its name), and did so faultlessly till operations ceased in 1956. In 1960, a scrap dealer who had bought up all its assets, decided to preserve it instead, and the rest, as they say, is history!

Today, the EBT is one of the most authentic, beautifully preserved heritage railroad operations in North America – best exemplified at their yard in Rockhill Furnace, where little seems to have changed since the railroad’s humble beginnings in the late 19th century!

We arrive early – as all self respecting railfans would – earlier than the railroad’s official opening i.e., and scout the yard for photo ops, of which there are plenty! We follow #15, a 1914 Baldwin built Steam Locomotive, out of its stall in the roundhouse, across the turn table, into the yard, and finally, as it couples on to a lash-up of passenger cars (or coaches), into Orbisonia station.

As the clock strikes 11, we are on our way, having chosen our spot carefully in the open car, right behind #15!

Suffice to say that a photograph – or even a video for that matter – can never do justice to the sheer richness of the experience – be it the unmatched aroma of steam (and some burnt coal!), cinders in your hair (the smart ones leave their caps behind!), the gentle pitch of the ride, the staccato rhythm of the connecting rods, or the clickety-clack of wheel over rail joint, that one can never tire of!

After an exhilarating 5-mile run, and on negotiating the wye (a triangle that enables trains to reverse), we ease in to Colgate Grove for a brief halt.

The EBT brochure advertises Colgate Grove as a picnic area – where one can “carry a hamper, get off the train, picnic there, and head back on a later one.” The thickly wooded spot is inviting for sure, but better sense prevails and we decide instead on another ride down Fall Avenue

About an hour after leaving Orbisonia station, we are back where we started, having negotiated yet another wye at Rockhill Furnace. The next departure is at 1 pm, should we choose to repeat the experience, but there’s plenty more to do in the area!

The Rockhill Trolley Museum is conveniently located right across from Orbisonia station, offering an all-you-can-ride day pass for just 7$, on any of their vintage trolleys.

Of the 20 odd trolleys (or trams) in the museum’s roster, some of them over a century old, 3 are in service on this day, and we take our first ride on #163, a couple of miles out to Blacklog Narrows.

#163 was built in 1924 and served the trolley system of York, PA till ’39. From then till ’72 it served as a summer home, stripped of all its interiors! It took the museum’s volunteers 17 years to restore it to its original, immaculate condition!

Today, wearing its original York colours, which coincide perfectly with Halloween season, it makes a stop at the ‘Pumpkin patch’, where its younger riders alight and go Pumpkin picking!

While the youngsters busy themselves decorating the Pumpkins, the adults look around for another dose of entertainment. At Rockhill Furnace, there is enough to be found. For the more adventurous amongst us, there is the 86-year old Fairbanks-Morse ‘Speeder’!

What essentially equates to an inspection trolley back in India, the Speeder is powered by an 8 HP, single cylinder engine, has a cruising speed of no more than 6 mph, and in the absence of any kind of suspension, provides a noisy, bone-jarring ride! It is a thrilling ride nevertheless, and one that will remain etched in our memory forever

The 3 pm departure from Orbisonia is the last scheduled run of the day, and as we watch it leave the station, the penny drops! Few rail enthusiasts would consider an outing like this complete, without a bit of train chasing! We are no exception to the rule, and within minutes are hot on the heels of the train, following its route by car! The chase pays off and we are suitably rewarded!

Seven hours can pass rather quickly when your having so much fun, and short of being booted out, we are some of the last visitors to leave Rockhill Furnace.

This weekend we’ve been blessed with great weather, fabulous fall foliage and a most memorable day at the EBT. Yet, on our drive back, the good lord has one last treat in store for us..

The journey back is long and tiring, and I get home completely exhausted! Somehow, I’m thankful for that – cause had it been any closer, I’d be there every other weekend

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A full set of pictures from my visit to the East Broad Top Railroad and the colours of Fall in PA can be seen on my Flickr.

It’s been over a decade since I camped outdoors – in other words, way too long! Back in the day, as I shall refer to it, camping was invariably part of a trek, either in the Sahyadris (closer to Bombay) or in the loftier Himalayas.  Needless to say, I enjoyed both those activities immensely!

Despite several efforts over the past couple of years, the closest I’ve gotten to camping in this country has been ‘cabining‘, or staying in a log cabin in the woods! I know, it doesn’t quite count! So, just like I had been earlier this year – hell bent on skiing – I was determined to go camping, before the cooler weather descended on us.

Patchogue is a town on Long Island in NY State, about an hour’s train ride from NYC. Across Great South Bay is Fire Island, a barrier island that runs 50 km (31 miles) west to east, adjacent to the south shore of Long Island. A state park, a national park and a county park (in that order!) make up most of the barrier island, with Watch Hill being the point of entry to the Fire Island National Seashore.

As we make inquiries for campsite availability at the general store, the boy scouts quickly disperse to their group campsite and the hikers head out to the wilderness area! Of 26 individual sites, only 2 are taken, so we pretty much have the place to ourselves, and of course, the option to pick our sites!

We choose #11 & 12, pitch our tents, leave our belongings, and then follow the sound of waves crashing against the shore. The beach we arrive at is pristine, stretching in both directions as far as the eye can see, with nary a soul in sight. It is almost surreal.

We gape in awe for a while and realize soon enough that it is lunch time. Since this is off-season, the snack bar by the marina shuts early and we are relying on it for our first meal on the island. We scurry back there, grab some beers from the general store, order some burgers and fries, and snag a spot on the deck – this has got to be one of the best days to enjoy it all outdoors!

An hour later we are back at the beach and the surf looks more than inviting. It is a tad too cold to swim – although O thinks otherwise – so the rest of us wet our feet in the water. The water is chilly for sure but the ambient temperature is an amazingly pleasant 20C (70F), there is no wind to speak of, and best of all, the sand is as comforting as can possibly be. Given all this, I figure the best course of action for me would be to retreat a few steps from the water, stretch out on the sand and pass out..

I awake some two hours later, more relaxed than I have felt in probably the entire year! I make a mental note to do this more often!

It is early evening by now and the guilt of not having done anything remotely physical the entire day gets the better of me. While O and C continue to lounge on the beach, which they now consider their own, I convince E to come along with me, and together we set off to explore the mile long nature trail.

While the south shore of Watch Hill is all sand and surf, its north shore – facing Great South Bay – is a salt marsh. Between the two lie dunes, a thicket – where the campsite is – and a Maritime Forest. Essentially three unique ecosystems existing side by side, in an area no wider than a few hundred metres! Apropos, it is earmarked as a National Seashore!

Mesmerized by the sights and sounds along the nature trail for over an hour, we now join O and C, making it to the overlook with just enough time to witness one of the most brilliant sundown’s ever! After all, it’s not called Watch Hill for nothing!

As dusk steadily gives way to a night sky dotted with stars, it’s time to get our first camp meal going, time to fire up that grill

Four fillets of Steak and three bottles of Red Wine later, we decide to call it a night! Our first day of camping couldn’t have been more perfect – blue skies, plenty of sunshine, no wind and not a single encounter with mosquitoes, poison ivy or ticks (everything we had been warned against!). We turn in and pray that Day 2 will be just as nice!

But the weather gods have other plans for us.

Three hours into a wine induced slumber, E and I awake to the loud, annoying sound of our fly sheet flapping away. Fearing that we’re about to be lifted off along with our tent, I grudgingly emerge from my sleeping bag to cold gusts of wind and make a miserable attempt at pegging the fly sheet back into the ground, sorry sand! The drama repeats itself every hour on the half hour, or thereabouts, and we get little or no sleep!

Miraculously, the tent survives an awfully gusty night!

On my 5th or 6th attempt at fixing the tent, bleary-eyed, I notice a shift in the colour of the sky and our surroundings – the makings of a gorgeous sunrise, no doubt, and about the only time I’ll be seeing the sun that day!

While I’m trigger-happily capturing the spectacle, my camp mates are still asleep – it turns out later that O and C’s tent fared better than ours and E eventually slept through the racket! I decide to make the most of it, wind and cold not withstanding, and head out for a long, brisk walk.

The beautifully designed nature trail leads me through the Maritime Forest, where the early colours of Fall are already evident!

Its status quo on my return to the campsite – everyone’s still asleep! I decide to join in the fun and finally end up getting a few precious hours of shut eye!

We collectively awake around 11 – hunger calling the shots this time – and try in vain to light up a wind swept grill! The coal refuses to catch and when we’re dangerously close to exhausting our supply of matches, O comes up with a bright spark – paper!! His idea works and breakfast is served

Note to fellow campers – always carry lighters!

With breakfast out of the way and the weather not particularly conducive to beach lounging, there’s little one can do except walk! And walk we do! O and C hit up the nature trail while E and I decide to embark on the 2-mile round trip to neighbouring Davis Park.

Davis Park isn’t exactly a park – although it lies within the confines of the National Seashore – but a hamlet of a couple hundred summer homes, most of them beach facing! As with every other square inch of the National Park, Davis Park too is devoid of private vehicles, with unpaved trails overrun by sand making up its ‘main street‘, and a wooden boardwalk substituting its sidewalk. In such a scenario, the inhabitants of Davis Park get around on foot and cart their effects in little wagons!

Back at the campsite by 2 and its time to strike our tents and pack for our journey back to the city. We get to the marina with plenty to spare for our 4 pm ferry to Patchogue, pop open some more beers, and wait it out in the damp cold, under a menacingly overcast sky!

Only 2 other people board the ferry along with us – the smarter ones, it seems, left on the first ferry out this morning!

Choppy waters and gray skies mark our departure out of Fire Island – quite a contrast to what it was like, about 30 hours ago! We have figuratively, if not literally, transitioned between summer and fall in one amazing weekend!

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A full set of pics can be seen here.

In the days when flights were few and far between, when passengers walked freely onto the tarmac to board their planes, and when security procedures -  as we know them today – were non existent, ‘Building 1′ was sufficient enough to house the passenger terminal, airline offices and air traffic control for Floyd Bennett Field!

Named after Bennett, a Brooklyn resident and US Navy pilot, the airfield was built in 1931, by extending Barren Island with landfill, to connect with the south shore of Brooklyn in Jamaica Bay.

Along with ‘Building 1′, eight hangars were built to service some of the largest planes of the day. Today, while their exteriors remain untouched, hangars 5 through 8 have been re-purposed to house Aviator Sports, an arena and events centre!

In the late 20s, when the airfield was first proposed, most runways across the US were either grass or dirt. But the planners behind Floyd Bennett Field had bigger, better ideas! They built the country’s first concrete runways – 5 in all – electrically illuminated no less, to allow for night landings!

About a decade after the airfield opened, it began to lose its sheen to LaGuardia, which commenced operations in ’39, in neighbouring Queens. But not before Howard Hughes, Amelia Earhart, Roscoe Turner, Wiley Post and several other legendary aviators had used Floyd Bennett Field for their record setting endeavours!

For my part – after having biked up and down its many storied runways – I look back and imagine what it must have been like in its heyday!

Planes still fly into and out of Floyd Bennett Field today, albeit of a different kind – the model airplane variety!

The north end of Runway 1-19 hosts model airplane enthusiasts from the Pennsylvania Avenue Radio Control Society or PARCS, on most days in the week, with attendance – and model air traffic – reaching its peak on weekends!

Biking over to the south end of Runway 1-19, I spot an altogether different hobby – one that utilises the wind as its source of power but remains firmly rooted to the ground – land sailing!

Although commercial operations ceased at Floyd Bennett Field by 1941, the airfield found favour with the US Navy, which set up a Naval Air Station there. The Air Station was operated for three decades, and in the interim, the centre of all activity was ‘Hangar B’!

Today, ‘Hangar B’ houses over a dozen vintage aircraft, sourced from the US Navy, Marines, Coast Guard and the NYPD, some already restored, others in the process of being rehabilitated – all of them in the loving care of HARP (Historic Aircraft Restoration Project) volunteers!

I spend about an hour looking at the various fighter planes, amphibious craft and choppers and then make my way to the HARP workshop, where this sign catches my attention..

I can’t help but think how very applicable this is to the Indian scenario!

Floyd Bennett Field caters to more than just the aviation enthusiast and wind buggy rider – it boasts the city’s only campground, has plenty of hiking trails and several spots for fishing. During my exploration, I chance upon a couple of anglers trying their luck in Jamaica Bay. The midtown skyline peeks out from behind, reminding me that I’m still in NYC!

Built in an era that favoured the automobile, Floyd Bennett Field isn’t easily accessible by public transit, save for the Q35 bus. Your best bet is to drive there, or when the weather’s favourable, to bike!

On my ride back to the subway (the B,Q is the closest subway line), I decide to detour through the Manhattan Beach neighbourhood of south Brooklyn. Known for having some of the most diverse Jewish populations, including Sephardi (Iberian), Ashkenazi (German) and Russian Jews, it is also home to the eponymous beach, one of the smallest and most untouched in the city!

Manhattan Beach is bounded by Brighton Beach and Coney Island to the west, the Atlantic on its south and east, and the neighbourhood of Sheepshead Bay to the north. Sheepshead refers to a variety of fish that were once found in the waters of the bay.

While exotic marine life may be hard to come by in the bay today, Swans are in abundance on the water, a marina is visible in the distance and the promenade along Emmons Ave is lined with seafood restaurants – the makings of a New England fishing village, pretty much!

And this time, there’s not even a hint of the famed skyline to remind me where I am

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A full set of pics can be seen here.