The passengers peer down the platform at Tampa's Union Station and wait for the Silver Star, Number 92, arriving from Miami to Jacksonville. A college sophomore is on his way to Stetson University in DeLand. A group of girls heads back to Orlando after a weekend getaway. A mom prepares to return her son to his father in Kissimmee.

Each of them tell me that for a single person or a couple, it is not only more relaxing to take the train, but it's cheaper than driving. (Some intra-Florida fares are as low as $10; my fare from Tampa to Jacksonville and back is $84). But I am not looking for discounts. I am looking for a glimmer of that original streamliner -- the gleaming, 1939-vintage stainless steel Silver Star.

That Old Romance

The train backs in, and it gleams in the setting sun. Looking behind me on the platform, I notice an attractive 20ish couple hugging and kissing each other much more intently than I see at airports. Just like in the movies, romance is still alive with train travel.

I am riding coach class, close to the rear, and I show my ticket to Avis, our coach attendant. I am assigned Seat 23, next to the window. Behind me, I see Tampa's partially restored Beaux Arts station. I am feeling that old romance and hope the train will pull out of the station right now.

I notice an attractive 20ish couple hugging and kissing each other much more intently than I see at airports. Just like in the movies, romance is still alive with train travel.


But it is not to be cinema-perfect: Avis tells us that the horn (they don't really sound so much like whistles anymore) is broken. (Florida is almost all grade crossings, which means they use the horn -- a lot.) "I do apologize," she says. We wait for a few short minutes, and then she gets back on to say that they've found a second engine. We're off. First stop: Lakeland, about 40 minutes away.

The cabin is dark blue and the chairs are wide and comfy, rather like first class in a jumbo jet. My seat has a 120-volt plug and footrest. There aren't any seat belts or restrictions on when you can get up or sit down; passengers freely walk through the cars by holding onto seats and bracing against walls.

Dinner Time

I head one car up into the Cafe Car, which is one of two eateries on the train. In the cafe, I meet our conductor, Herman. Smiling, he shows fellow crewmembers what's behind his snappy blue blazer; it's a bit of grease on his white shirt. It has obviously been a top-down effort to get the train out of Tampa almost on time, and he believes we will easily make up the minutes as we go.

The Cafe Car is the central spot for the train. With wide windows and big tables, passengers and crew gather there. It's as busy as a Starbucks, and far more sociable between strangers because of the confined space. I ask to sit down with passengers Linda Stewart and Anna Richard; when I do, I hear tales from their just-finished cruise. (Even if people seem shy, they like to strike up a conversation while waiting for drinks and snacks.)

I immediately walk to the dining car to make reservations for dinner. Dinner is served in 12 sittings from about 5 to 9 p.m., and I pick a late seating since those in cabins usually pick meal times first. (Breakfast is always first-come, first-served.)

I am seated for this white tablecloth dinner with Bill and Milly Hogencamp, a couple on their way home. (Just as in olden days, the longstanding railroad tradition is that you are automatically seated with other passengers for dinner). Bill works for the New York State Criminal Division. During a dinner of crab cakes, I learn about fingerprints and DNA.

The Hogencamps have booked a Roomette, which sleeps two. If you are booked in coach, ask at the terminal's ticket counter if any cabins are available. Sometimes you can get one for less than $200 for an in-state trip. Many diners seem well-tanned and rested as they are just off of cruise ships (most offer a 25 percent discount on Amtrak with their vacation reservations).

Back in my seat, the train rocks with a regular click that makes sleeping easy, as it's more a vibration than a loud sound. Quick stops come about every 45 minutes (Kissimmee, Orlando, Winter Park, etc.) and we arrive in Jacksonville just a few minutes late.

Southern Route

On my return trip south, I take the Star's sister train, the Silver Meteor, in order to stop in Orlando. While the train looks the same, the crew is entirely different. This morning, I encounter another series of friendly passengers, including Jason Nelson, who is taking his first train trip for business in West Palm Beach. Not only can he work the whole way, but he can ride the train for less money than gas.

Perhaps most typical are passengers Nicki Pine and her mother Gladys Meola. They are taking the train down to visit Nicki's son in Coral Gables and have started a game of Scrabble in the cafe. They are first-timers on long-distance trains and learn how it all works with the help of regular passengers. "People who have more experience with the train share those experiences," says Pine. "It's nice."