Montreal-New York train: the contemplative way

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Why take 11 hours to get to New York by train when you can do it in an hour and a half by plane? Because it’s nice, of course! And economical. And, at the end of the day, if you take a closer look, not that much longer than on a plane, but still much less tiring.

Do the math: a good half hour to get to the airport (when things are going well). Two hours of waiting before takeoff (when the latter is not delayed) with the added bonus of the quasi-prison control of the American customs. An hour and a half of flight (provided it is direct). At least three quarters of an hour to get out of the plane, collect your luggage and leave the La Guardia terminal. A good half hour taxi ride to Manhattan (if there is no traffic jam – there are always traffic jams), or at least an hour by public transport (bus, then subway – not the choice). We are at least six hours away, door to door. With the transfer from one mode of transport to another, the queues and all.

The train ? Half an hour by taxi to Central Station. Let’s say 15 minutes of waiting before departure. Ten and a half hours of comfortable train ride (plenty of legroom, seats reclining until you believe it), including an hour stop at Rouses Point for customs control (officers board the train , you sit still daydreaming, you show your passport, thank you, good evening). Fifteen minute cab ride from Penn Station to a hotel in midtown Manhattan. It’s been 11:30 hours, reading, eating, sleeping and looking at the scenery.

Especially look at the scenery! Between Montreal and New York, the Amtrak Adirondack train crosses soft cornfields where silos stand guard near sleeping houses. Then it runs along a good part of Lake Champlain until the beginning of its beginning, the Poultney River. At the bend of a bay appears a small marina, a heron flies over a swamp, we can see in the distance the gray-blue shades of the White Mountains … how beautiful!

On bends or approaching towns, the train whistles like in novels. It stops at Port Kent, on the edge of a bay; in Westport, where you can see a very British racecourse; in Port Henry, in front of an old small freestone station … In all, 18 stops punctuate this long contemplative stroll – places that one would not see by car, where one would not have even thought of s ‘stop, and that we keep in mind for a future getaway.

Around noon, if you’re a little hungry and you haven’t had the presence of mind to take your meal, you can always sample American railroad gastronomy. Against all hopes, the Caesar salad turns out to be honestly edible: crunchy romaine, spicy anchovy vinaigrette, plenty of chicken. Even coffee is drinkable!

Meanwhile, the large panoramic windows let see woods populated by old pines, oaks and cedars, isolated farmhouses, a few grazing cows. From time to time emerges the silvery ribbon of the Poultney River, which we will soon leave to follow the Champlain Canal, then the waters of the Hudson River to the Big Apple, which sparkles in the night.

We set foot at Penn Station around 9 p.m., a little dizzy, happy to arrive, eyes full of beauty, not even tired.

>>> Consult the train website Adirondack d’Amtrak.