In my experience, there is no better place to enjoy an encounter with a stranger and hold an interesting conversation than on a long-distance train. Amtrak is particularly conducive to this experience because of their open seating policy in the dining cars. As a single traveler, I am usually the third or fourth person at a table and seated with random strangers. We obviously have something in common — we are travelers in what is a moving community of several hundred people. Where are we going? Where are we from? We exchange names. We explore each other’s stories. I have met so many interesting fellow travelers. Many come to mind, but a few stand out.
Once I was seated first at a table for four, so I was waiting for others to be seated at my table. Soon the door opened and a huge black man, possibly 300 pounds, entered the dining car. From my vantage point I could see the ripple of animated concern at the few tables with one open space. He was seated at my table, taking up most of one side, and we immediately began a conversation over the menu and ordering our food. He turned out to be a cinematographer and a local live theater director/producer. He was on a long-distance rail trip (to help a friend) and was using the time to document the stories and experiences of other travelers. I ended up being interviewed on video for his project. I left him at Kansas City, but he still had another day and night ahead of him. It was a most enjoyable encounter.
On another trip, I was seated at a table across from a woman who lived on the island of Hawaii. Since I had never been there, we talked about the various birds and flowers she had in her yard and what her little community was like. During our conversation, I noticed that a woman at the table across the aisle was paying close attention. Finally, she interrupted and asked where my table companion lived. They turned out to be neighbors, living a couple blocks apart. Somehow, they both left Hawaii on different days heading to different destinations and ended up on the same train in the dining car in the middle of New Mexico. Synchronicity, once again, rears its head — Karl Jung would be impressed.
I have had similar encounters with National Park Rangers, young writers, a “Ghost Writer” who could not divulge her client’s name, an elderly mother-daughter pair on their first trip to the Grand Canyon, a commercial beekeeper, and a local amateur historian from Osawatomie, Kansas. Osawatomie was the town where John Brown based his 1850s anti-slavery campaign and my fellow traveler knew all about the “Bleeding Kansas” stories. Long-distance train travel is always interesting. People are generally relaxed and open to conversation.
The View From Here 