A Dubious Venture

For the 5th time, Richie, "D" and Mouton are taking the train to San Diego to attend a baseball game this Sunday. The station is close enough to the stadium, that they walk to it.



Meanwhile, our friend "Raffish" moved to San Diego some time ago and has wondered aloud (and rather often) when we're going to come down and see 'his" San Diego. Figuring half of us is better than neither one of us, I'm going, too.



Naturally, I want to see anything that he cares to show me and I'm really looking forward to lunch at Peohe's, Coronado Island, with it's dynamite view of downtown San Diego across the water. We can even take water taxis to and from! How cool is that?



In France, I don't think anything about hopping onto a train. In fact, in its early days Richie and I took the TGV (Train de Grand Vitesse) from Paris to Marseilles. We were amazed to be hurtling along at nearly 200 mph.



It annoys all four of them that I habitually refer to it as "The Train of Sure and Certain Death." It's the seacoast liner and should be advertised as "The Most Scenic Train Ride You'll Ever Take! (straight to your death.)



Thus, instead of enjoying a relaxing, scenic trip down the coast, I must be ever alert and wary. My first duty is to make sure we are all seated in a middle car (less likely to derail) and not at a foursome with a table (massive internal injuries when the train crashes.) If at all possible, we need to ride in seats facing the caboose (to prevent neck/back injuries.)



Since my companions are all ardent train enthusiasts, they will roar with laughter at my caution and ridicule me with gusto, this is not going to be a whole lot of fun. I can only calm myself with visions of water taxis and plates of bounteous food at Peohe's and the beautiful scenery at either place. Just NOT from the train.