We had a delightful train trip from Naves to Oviedo, 58 miles. It was on a train they call the “FEVE”, part of RENFE, the Spanish rail company. It has some aspects of metro that serves rural areas and towns all along the north coast in Spain. We have taken the FEVE before and just love it.
The train goes mostly through forests and farmland, along rivers and streams, by high mountains and smaller hills, through tiny towns and larger towns, past people’s back yards — basically everything we love about Spain.
We love the gentle beat of the rails. It makes you feel relaxed. And all the greenery you pass adds to the mood. The trip was two hours and 40 minutes and we didn’t look at our phones at all, it was too entertaining to watch the world go by.
The conductor did not “sing his songs again” like in “City of New Orleans” but he was very nice and helped us with the train switch in the middle.
We passed lots of cows and horses in the fields and saw, again, lots of calves and colts.
We went along a wide (30-40 feet) river with lots of canoes and kayaks and one big launching place with over a hundred people in wet suits getting ready to take off. I couldn’t get any good shots from the train. You can see the canoes if you tap and photo and enlarge it. You can also see my hand reflected in the glass.
Steve Goodman “City of New Orleans”: one of the best train songs ever, Arlo Guthrie has a killer version.
Riding on the City of New Orleans
Illinois Central, Monday morning rail
15 cars and 15 restless riders
Three conductors, 25 sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out of Kankakeei
Rolls along past houses, farms, and fields
Passing trains that have no name
An’ freight yards full of old black men
And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles
Good morning, America, how are ya?
Said don’t you know me? I’m your native son
I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans
I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
Dealing card games with the old men in the club car
Penny a point, ain’t no one keeping score
Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle
Feel the wheels rumbling ‘neath the floor
And the sons of Pullman porters
And the sons of engineers
Ride their fathers’ magic carpets made of steel
Mothers with their babes asleep
Are rockin’ to the gentle beat
And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel
Good morning, America, how are ya?
Said don’t you know me? I’m your native son
I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans
I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
Nighttime on the City of New Orleans
Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee
Halfway home, we’ll be there by morning
Through the Mississippi darkness, rolling down to the sea
But all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
And the steel rail still ain’t heard the news
The conductor sings his songs again
The passengers will please refrain
This train got the disappearing railroad blues
Good night, America, how are you?
Said don’t you know me? I’m your native son
I’m the train they call the City of New Orleans
I’ll be gone 500 miles when the day is done
