I arrive in Los Angeles in plenty of time to connect to an earlier train than ticketed to San Diego. I had spent a bit more for business class on this last leg of my ticket since I didn’t know how much of a problem my three small bags could be in the car. Am I ever glad: There are nearly 200 students on a field trip with standing room only in the rest of the cars. Nice seats in business class and new tracks for a very smooth ride.

Without the netbook, I’ve been hauling my heavy laptop. It’s been a pain to do so with everything else. (It proves worthwhile and is useful on board the ship because public machines turn out to be at a premium. I am fortunate to get wireless access in my cabin.)

No time in LAX to pop out and see the famous police station across the street from the LAX Union Station but our sleeper attendant Simon, a very good one, points out the male/female jail-barracks in the station’s backyard as we go around them. I don’t need to tell you the famous people who’ve been hauled in there.

If you’re connecting to SAN from LAX you may want to check whether you’re arriving right next to the train you’ll take next. I make the mistake of hauling my luggage all the way back to the center terminal when it turns out that my next train is right next to the train I had just arrived on. I still make the earlier departure, though, due to very helpful Red Cap service.

I finally see the Pacific Ocean from the train at the San Clemente pier. Big. The 200 school children get off for their field trip just before, at San Juan Capistrano, a town that looks immensely appealing from the tracks. Unusual rock formations and sedum line the rail cut. I think I recognize blue ceanothus but am not sure. A busy highway parallels the train track down here near the coast. I’m glad not to be on it.

On arrival at the SAN terminal I am reassured to see that the MV Explorer is, indeed, visible from the terminal and within walking distance. My two bigger pieces of checked-in luggage have arrived and I lash the three smaller pieces to them with bungee cords my nephew Connor has lent me so I can roll the two to the pier. Not easy but I make it, all the while shedding winter clothes and adding them to the luggage load.

Customs is complicated and the lines are long. I see Warner and Nancy and am relieved to have successfully arrived by the appointed time for boarding.

Photo taken from the MV Explorer of San Diego

On board, I check the library catalog for Geography of Bliss, which I want to read and that I think should be in the collection. It’s not, so I walk fast to the downtown Borders and buy a copy. I unpack in less than an hour. I am the only one in my small but comfortable cabin. The doors are very heavy and hard to open/close. Later we’re told that the previous voyage lost seven fingers to doors. I learn to very carefully open and close doors. That night we travel down, in rough seas, to Ensenada in Baja California of Mexico for several days of faculty/staff orientation and I can no longer check in by cell phone with Kenneth or family/friends.