Fast forward three hours. Union Station, Washington, D.C., 10 p.m. The train arrives right on time to a station that is far too empty, far too clean. It even smells of disinfectant.
I could go on ... but I won't. It's home now. Or at least the gateway to home. And it's almost beyond comparison, the two cities are so different.
Let me just say this, to paraphrase Samuel Johnson or whoever said it of London ... He who is tired of New York is tired of life.