Wilton is our final stop to check out on the Danbury Branch. The station is located not far from Route 7, and is 48.5 miles from Grand Central Terminal. Surrounded by trees and small stream, the area around the station is relatively peaceful. Like many of the other Danbury Branch stations, there is little that is particularly noteworthy here, besides the small station building which was closed at the time of my visit. In fact, on the day of my visit a busing schedule was in effect, making the platform exceptionally quiet. I could have made a sound recording for you, and titled it “The Sounds of Wilton.” On that day it would only contain the sound of the stream, unpunctuated by the normal wail of a train horn and the rumble of a diesel engine.

Without any further rambling from me, here are a few photos from Wilton…

Some months ago I randomly stumbled upon the old railroad depot in Canaan. Stumbled is really the appropriate word – I wasn’t looking for, nor expecting the station. I suppose one could say the station found me. In the original post I wrote about the station, I mentioned that I knew there had been a fire there, and after seeing fire photos in the internet I had assumed the station would be demolished. How wrong I was!

Apparently I am not the only person fascinated by the old Canaan depot. That original post has been one of the most popular stories on the blog this year. Not to mention that the people I’ve met from Canaan are fiercely proud of their depot, and proud of the railroading history of their town. Perhaps this is why I find them, and this depot so endearing.

The work on the station continues, and has progressed a little bit since the last time I was here. This time I was able to actually see the inside, which I hadn’t been able to do before. And I am not going to lie, seeing a train waiting on the platform right outside makes this place look so much more alive! I was only at the depot for a short time, and didn’t get a chance to partake in all of the activities (there was a parade, and even fireworks one night!), but I did manage to get a few photos…

As a side note, I noticed that on the depot’s website there is a form for ordering an engraved brick that will be placed at the station. I’ve been toying with the idea of getting one and having them write IRideTheHarlemLine.com on it (assumedly we’re not advanced enough to be placing QR codes on bricks…) Anyone want to contribute? They cost $150.

Yesterday afternoon I returned home from Florida… and I have to ask, what the hell happened while I was away? There were suicides, more suicides, and even a derailment. I wasn’t particularly vocal about my departure here on the blog, I was being rather tight-lipped about heading down to Florida for the final space shuttle launch. As you may recall, I mentioned my plans to see the second-to-last launch as part of #NASATweetup. Scheduling issues and launch scrubs foiled those plans, however, and I never saw that launch. A month or so later I was beyond lucky to get chosen for the final launch tweetup, but for superstitious reasons I didn’t want to really mention it. Quite frankly, I was afraid I’d jinx it and again miss the launch.

Unless you have been living under a rock, you probably have heard that the final space shuttle did in fact launch – and I was in attendance. I was interviewed by Westchester’s News 12 there, and a particular conductor I know claims that he saw it on TV in Grand Central, though his first assumption was that I had been arrested for taking photographs of something. I assure you, any photographs I did take, were completely legal and will be posted at some point. I think I still need to sort out not only the photos, but my thoughts after such a huge event.

In the meantime, I hope that you all don’t think I am neglecting you… I do try to post at least twice per week, which I failed to do last week. Although I don’t really have much to say this evening, I had to let you all know that I found the most awesome ticket punch…

Be sure to look for little “kitties” on your tickets and seatchecks from now on!

After spending the majority of Sunday taking photos at New Haven Line stations, I have to admit that some of the stations are pretty cute. In fact, I want to take some of them home with me (and not this one). If one day you head over to Cannondale station, and you find that the building is missing, well, it might be in my backyard. In all seriousness, the station is quite adorable. Unfortunately it is currently empty and unoccupied – the small cafe that was inside shut down at the end of 2009. CDOT was looking to have a new tenant by summertime of 2010, but obviously that has not panned out.

Cannondale is one of the small stations located on the Danbury Branch, in the Cannondale section of Wilton. The station is located approximately 50 miles away from Grand Central. Cannondale’s claim-to-fame is having a company named after it – the Cannondale Bicycle Corporation. Their original logo featured the station and the tracks.

Photo credit to Scott who owns the bike.

On weekdays, Cannondale has around eleven trains total that head to Grand Central. In most instances riders have to change at either South Norwalk or Stamford, but there are three commuter express trains that head direct to Grand Central in the early-morning peak period.

That is pretty much all I can think of to say about Cannondale right now – I’ll be back again next week with another New Haven Line station to look at. As of right now I’ve been to roughly half of all the NH Line stations, including all of the Danbury and Waterbury branches. By the time I finish I might never want to look at a train station again :P

Despite only having returned from Africa a few weeks ago, I’m all ready for another vacation. Thankfully, I’m taking tomorrow off and will be spending the long weekend relaxing in the Poconos. I’m not even going to bring my laptop – though having my newly-acquired Blackberry somewhat defeats the purpose.

The one thing I couldn’t resist though, was to check and see if there were any interesting old rail stations nearby the place I’m staying. I found a beautiful one on the internet – only to find out that it was gutted by fire several years ago. What is it about train stations and fires? As if we didn’t have enough to worry about from people wanting to tear down history in the name of progress, fires have ravaged quite a few train stations that I’m familiar with. Canaan Union Station was the victim of an arson, Pawling’s station burned in 1984, and even beautiful Sharon had a fire, though it was later restored. The old Ontario and Western station that I happened to stop at last weekend was also the victim of a blaze, and for many years has just sat, lonely and abandoned.

Photos from YouTube video by kizzo11

There is something about HDR photos that somehow lend themselves to portraying the character of an abandoned ruin. Somehow they just feel more lonely, and a bit creepy. I’m not quite sure if I even like these photos, as they might be a little too much. But they do show the character of a once-beautiful station, constructed in 1892, until its apparent “death” in 2004. In the time between then it served as a station, then much later a nightclub, and as a home for various shops. But perhaps, there is hope for this place after all. The Middletown Community Health Center is looking to restore the station over the next three years, at an estimated cost of five-million dollars. Hopefully this place will have a happy ending after all.

Ah, Zimbabwe. What exactly can I say about you? You have beautiful landscapes and interesting people, but your president-for-life (not officially, there are “elections”) has run your economy into the shitter…

Case-in-point: I am now a trillionaire.

Mind you, I was told if you wanted a loaf of bread (back when the Zimbabwean currency was actually used – the country now uses either the US Dollar or South African Rand for transactions), you’d need to wait in line at the grocery at 4AM, and of course have that one trillion bill in hand. Despite how poor some of these people are, I really have to say that Zimbabwe has some amazingly talented folks. Young kids that sat around and painted, or people that churned out drawings and carvings in order to sell to the tourists to make a buck… or trade for just about anything (clothing, shoes, pens, bubble gum, they were very much intrigued with sticky-notes). I certainly wished I had brought along more things that I could have given to people – I did trade my brand-new flip flops for a carved wooden basket, and a bag of fruit and a few dollars for a very large carved giraffe (which was a joy to bring home on the plane!!).

One of the ways Zimbabwe makes their money is charging exorbitant fees for entrance. They probably don’t care who comes knocking on their door, as long as they pay the money for the visa. Bringing your own car? There’s another fee for that, too. Because the fees were so high, when I crossed the border into Botswana (and later, back into Zimbabwe), the driver dropped us off at the border, and we had to walk across for another driver. The cars and drivers don’t cross – far too expensive for that. So in terms of train travel, there really aren’t many passenger trains that do cross the border – the fees for cars are high enough, I could only imagine the charge for a train (though there are fancy tours like Rovos Rail that do cross the border, the cost for some of these tours is more than I make in a year, so my assumption is that border crossing charges do somewhat inflate that price).

There is, however, a steam train company in Victoria Falls that goes onto the Victoria Falls Bridge, and sits there so passengers can view the sunset. When investigating about this train, I was quoted a price of $90 dollars per ticket. Just so you are aware, it is probably around a mile from the train station to the bridge – and there was no way in hell I was paying $90 dollars for that (that is a damn expensive mile!). So I never did take a train in Zimbabwe, but I did get some pictures at the station. Included are also some photos of the Victoria Falls Hotel. The hotel is located right next to the station, and they have a private entryway to the platform, on which they seriously roll out a red carpet. For anyone who might ever happen to be in the area, I suggest checking out the hotel. Even if you aren’t staying there, you can still check it out and have tea or a meal. There is a good view of the Victoria Falls bridge from there, and the walls have plenty of old photos of trains and the Victoria Falls station.

On Saturday my family had a surprise birthday party for my father, and I was the one tasked with getting him out of the house while everybody assembled at my parents’ house. Due to the fact that I don’t drive, this was somewhat easy – I just had to get him to give me a ride somewhere. Somehow, I convinced him to go over to Ansonia station so I could take photos, and then to pick up some tools to work on my railroad sign/lights. I punched in the address for Ansonia in the GPS, and when we arrived my Dad was like, “So, where’s the station?” I pointed and said that it was right in front of us. He was confused, “No really, where is it?”

Needless to say, the Ansonia station is very small. I almost don’t even want to call it a station, it is a railroad stop. There is a track, a small low-level platform, a canopy and bus-stop style waiting area, and that is about it. Well, actually there were crows that were probably feasting on something a train had run over, and stacks of Watchtower magazines left by the delightful Jehovah’s Witnesses (people with propaganda love train stations!). On the 71 mile ride to Grand Central, you’ll have plenty of time to read that aforementioned propaganda – especially since there are no direct to Grand Central trains on the Waterbury Branch. Slightly more interesting than the station was the railroad bridge just south of the station, where the tracks cross the Naugatuck River. I waited for the late north-bound train, and didn’t even get that spectacular of a photo.

I have a bit of a problem when it comes to focusing on things. My mind is always in a million places at once. I am notorious for starting things and never finishing them… in addition to having a whole bunch of awesome ideas that I never end up acting on. Over a year ago I rode my first high-speed “bullet train” in Japan… and I never posted anything about it. As I started posting things from my most recent trip, I figured it was probably about time to go through some of my even older photos, and actually get them posted.

Japan’s shinkansen is beautiful, at least in my opinion. The front is is long, sleek, and aerodynamic… at least on the N700 Series, which is the one I took. The Nozomi (“super high speed”) service took 2 hours and 20 minutes to go from Tokyo to Kyoto on the Tokaido Line, a distance of nearly 300 miles. The train’s top speed is 186 miles per hour. Part of the beauty of the high speed system in Japan is that the shinkansen has dedicated tracks, and no grade crossings. The ride is rather scenic, but because the train never intersects with roads there occasionally periods where the train will run in tunnels completely underground. I was amused, because it felt like every time I started recording the view on my video camera, we went through tunnels.

At the beginning of the video is a little jingle… this is another awesome thing about the trains in Japan. Sometimes there are so many different train lines that converge at one point, and it is hard to know which train is which. All you really have to do is listen though. Trains of different lines have different jingles, which allows you to audibly distinguish between the trains. Though I do wonder sometimes how anyone who actually works on those trains and hears the jingles all day long doesn’t go postal. I certainly heard those jingles in my dreams!

In my previous post, I gave a little bit of preliminary information about the Premier Classe train journey that I took in South Africa. Before I continue, perhaps I should share with you a few facts about the infrastructure of the rails in South Africa – things I wasn’t aware of when I made my journey.

• The Passenger Rail Association of South Africa (PRASA) operates both the Metrorail (commuter rail in urban areas) and Shosholoza Meyl (regional and long distance trains). The Premier Classe falls under the Shosholoza Meyl.

• 40% of PRASA’s fleet of trains are more than 37 years old. One third of the fleet is “constantly out of service, leading to poor performance, safety and reliability.”

• 86% of PRASA’s signaling installations have exceeded their design life.

• For freight service, “derailments have led to costly delays… The average cancellation of trains amounts to 10 trains per day due to accidents and other security incidents such as theft of copper cables.”

To make a long story short, the infrastructure and equipment being used by the railroads in South Africa is not that great. Much of the equipment is outdated, and additional difficulties are caused by theft, or as I was told, even by people leaving junk on the tracks. The eight hour delay my journey suffered is probably closer to the norm than a random fluke. So, provided you are prepared for some obnoxious delays (don’t plan anything for the day you are supposed to arrive – I missed my tour of Johannesburg!), I probably would recommend the Premier Classe train to any railfans that may be pondering a visit to South Africa. There is absolutely no way a plane ride can compete with the amazing views you will see from the train. And you will see it all – the gorgeous mountains surrounding Cape Town, farms as far as the eye can see, wineries, and even more less savory things.

Cape Town has the dubious honor of having quite a financial disparity between its citizens – from the sprawling mansions along the beach to the shack settlements on the outskirts of the city. And from the train, you will see various shack settlements – homes constructed from whatever scraps of corrugated metal could be found, with the roof scraps held in place by an array of heavy rocks or bricks. Perhaps you’ll even see some of the settlement’s younger denizens pelting the train with rocks. In fact, some of the things I saw are even difficult to put into words – folks using the tracks as a toilet, billowing black smoke from burning tires, and even the aforementioned children running around with flaming bits of wood in hand, with various patches of grass aflame (in case you think I was exaggerating, I do have one photo of the burning grass). Even the destroyed remnants of a freight train derailment littered the sides of the tracks at one point.

If my goal was to sell you on the Premier Classe, I think thus far I’ve failed… in fact, you probably are scared for your life. Did I mention gorgeous mountains? Beautiful sunsets? And hell, if your train is as late as mine was, you might even see TWO sunsets! Your train, zooming through the late afternoon sun, may race with the wild ostriches right outside your window. And of course you can glimpse all of this while stuffing your face in the dining car. Four-course lunches and five-course dinners are the standard on the Premier Classe. And if there is one thing that South Africans know how to do well, it is to feed the tourists. If the food on the train sucked, I’d probably be pretty pissed off. Need I say again, eight hours late? I was less than thrilled. But how can one stay mad when being fed tasty chocolate cake – with ice cream to boot?

A shitty photo of what tasty cake may look like

Well, that pretty much concludes my set of photos from the Premier Classe. Perhaps next week I’ll post some photos of the train that I didn’t ride in Zimbabwe. And if you don’t mind the off-topic, some lions and elephants and such.

Back in the days of Imperialism, where Africa was carved up and occupied by various European nations, there was a man by the name of Cecil Rhodes that had a dream. And it wasn’t exactly tricking the world into thinking diamonds are incredibly rare (though as the founder of the diamond company DeBeers – he had a significant role in that), it was the dream of a railway stretching across Africa. Rhodes’ dream – the Cape to Cairo Railway – was never realized. Though portions of it were built, the British colonies never achieved a direct line from Egypt down to South Africa. Today, some tourist agencies offer Cape to Cairo rail tours, taking the train on the pieces of rail that do exist, and either flying or busing over the parts that don’t. I think this is what first captured my interest about Africa, and I decided I would love to go ride the trains there. The only difficulty was that these train tours (specifically Cape to Cairo) were extravagantly expensive – some of them costing more than my yearly salary. Sticking to one country, South Africa, was probably my best bet. Enter the Premier Classe train.

The rail route between Cape Town and Johannesburg for tourists is serviced by a few different companies. Both the Blue Train and Rovos Rail are quite fancy – and with their one way ticket price of around two to three-thousand dollars, well out of my price range. The Premier Classe, however, is still a bit fancy with with five-course dinners and such, but has a ticket price of around three-hundred dollars. I pretty much booked my trip entirely around the Premier Classe train, which has two departures weekly, and it was supposed to be the highlight of my trip. Instead, it was a massive frustration.

I have a bit of difficulty in retelling my experiences on the Premier Classe. Did I enjoy it? Was the food good? How were the accomodations? Well yes, the train was enjoyable, the food was amazing, and the accommodations were pretty good. If the train wasn’t about eight hours late, it probably would have been a spectacular journey! I never got to see anything in Johannesburg (beyond the airport) – as the train was so late we missed our tour. I thought I’d at least be able to walk around the train station and take photos while waiting for the train, but I was told that first of all, it probably wasn’t safe, and secondly, my camera would be quickly confiscated by the rifle-carrying police officers roaming around the station.

In Cape Town began the game of people attempting to determine how my friend and I were related. Though friends and coworkers were never suggested, there were a few people that thought we were either sisters, lesbians, or even mother and daughter. In the case of the Premier Classe, they just thought my friend was actually a guy.

Cape Town station wasn’t exceptionally beautiful – probably a bit too sterile white for my taste – but there were some gorgeous tile mosaics on the floor and walls. The outside had a few mosaics of early trains, horsecars and omnibuses, one of which I did manage to get a photo of. Since I have so many photos of the journey, I’ll be doing two parts. This first part appropriately shows the first part of the journey from Cape Town.