There’s something about train travel that slows life down just enough for you to notice the little things – the rhythmic clack of the tracks, the way the scenery changes with every mile, the unspoken promise that adventure lies ahead.
Our annual guys’ baseball trip took us north this year, riding Amtrak from Norfolk, Virginia to Baltimore, Maryland. No TSA lines. No cramped car rides. Just a comfortable seat, good conversation, a Bloody Mary (or two), and anticipation building as the skyline of Baltimore grew closer.
Our destination: Oriole Park at Camden Yards, a cathedral of baseball and one of the most beautiful ballparks in the game. There’s a certain magic in walking through Eutaw Street, smelling the grilled sausages, hearing the crack of the bat, and realizing you’re part of something that’s been going on for over a century. The Orioles didn’t disappoint – the game had that electric summer-night energy that reminds you why you fell in love with baseball in the first place.
But the weekend wasn’t just about the game for us. We explored Baltimore’s Fells Point – a waterfront neighborhood that feels like it’s been marinating in stories since the 1700s. Brick streets, historic pubs, live music spilling out into the night air.
We made our way through The Point in Fells (great food, great view), Sláinte Irish Pub and Restaurant (Guinness that tastes like it should), and Cat’s Eye Pub (the kind of place where time doesn’t matter and the band plays like they mean it).
Baltimore showed us the best version of itself – welcoming, a little gritty, endlessly interesting. And like all good trips, it ended too soon. The train ride home gave us time to relive the highlights, tell the same stories twice, and start scheming about next year’s destination (Washington DC [Nationals]).
If you’ve never done a train-and-baseball weekend with friends, I can’t recommend it enough. It’s proof that sometimes the journey really is just as good as the destination.
