o here was the plan – drive my snowbirding mother up from Daytona Beach and drop her at my sister’s in Norfolk. Then, after a few days of bookstores and coffee shops, pick up an Amtrak train south to ride back to Orlando, Florida. After all, I like trains. And I’d just suffered a long flight and crippling legroom of Icelandair. I didn’t want to fly. I wanted to ride a roomy train. What could go wrong? The train picked was 91 which I’d board at Staples Mill Station, Richmond at 5:30 PM. I figured I’d sleep on the train […]