Want some Amtrak Cheese with that Woodbridge Wine? $11.25, Please. (written in Iowa, maybe)

I watched the sunset over farmland in Indiana before my nap.  It was just as gorgeous as the sunrise in Illinois, if not more so.  And for me, it brought the train transfer full circle. 

Bye-bye Capitol Limited, hello Southwest Chief (SWC) 

Traveling into Iowa, the SWC conductor came over the loudspeaker to say that we were crossing over “Mark Twain’s mighty Mississippi.”  I’m glad he appreciates Twain, and I’m glad he said something because I was sound asleep in my seat.  It was a much-needed nap, and it was great to sprawl out on two whole seats while nestled snuggly inside my cozy sleeping bag liner.  By the way, for anyone who decides to take this type of trip, I have a bit of advice.  A jacket is a much better pillow than a purse filled with a digital camera, a journal, a phone, and chargers.  I mean, just in case you were wondering. 

The conductor said something else while making his train allusion.  He said that passengers could finally purchase alcohol.  A glass of wine sounded tempting.  So, I bought one.  Did you know that it’s standard to tip 10% on a takeout bill?  Well, now you do.  So my cheese, crackers, and cab sauv actually cost me $13.25 not $11.25.  It was worth every freakin’ penny, too, and I’ll probably get it again tomorrow.  Actually, I know I will. 

Question for you all.  Why wasn’t I allowed to drink until we got into Iowa?  Any ideas?