The first leg of her journey had been uneventful, even dull, reminding her of everything she disliked about rail travel. When she had alighted from the train at Vanhoover Central Station, she was stunned. There were ponies milling around everywhere; just like when she had first travelled to Manehattan, each of them apparently knowing exactly where they wanted to be, and all of them clearly on a tight timeline to get there. The words from Rarity flashed back into her mind; “Remember, Applejack, you're in the big city now. No moseying. You've gotta walk with speed and confidence!”
“Oh Rarity” she said under her breath, “Where are you when I need you?”
Totally lost, she sidled up to a porter who was busily engaged in offloading bags and cases from the train and piling them onto a trolley.
“Um, excuse me, Sir” she stumbled apologetically, “Can you point me to the right train for Branding?”
“Branding, you say” he said, straightening up, “That would be the cross country to Mountreal – platform eighteen, if I’m not mistaken, but I’d hurry if I were you, it’s due to depart soon and there isn’t another until tomorrow.”
Applejack gulped and uttered some fleeting thanks before galloping off, skidding to a halt and then galloping back again.
“Where is platform eighteen please?”
The porter tore himself away from his work again and pointed, “This is platform three. Four, five, six …”
Applejack spun around and galloped off once more, but this time in the other direction, saddle bags bouncing comically off her flanks, hoping the delay hadn’t caused her to miss her connecting train.
She showed her ticket to the staff at the innumerable numbers of barriers and turnstiles as she ran down the concourse, checking off the large numbers that denoted the platforms, all of which seemed to have trains waiting. When finally, she arrived at platform eighteen, she took her hat off to show the ticket to the bored looking attendant who simply waved her through with no further interest.
What met her eyes was not what she would have described as a train, but an enormous metal palace on wheels. It seemed to be twice the height of the trains she was used to and shining with the gleam of a newly polished baking tin. Up ahead, she saw a guard with a flag in his hoof and a whistle raised to his mouth, and knew this was no time to ask questions, so skidded to a stop next to the nearest door and flung it open, throwing herself in just as she heard the whistle blow. She pulled the door shut with a reverberating crash and lurched as the train pulled away.
“Dang it all” she panted, “No wonder everypony’s in a hurry round here. Nuthin’ waits for nopony!”
Unlike many ponies on a long-distance journey, Applejack did not choose to seek out a seat to herself where she could be alone with her thoughts or a good book; no, instead she walked down the sparsely filled carriages until she found a group of ponies round a table, all sharing stories and clearly enjoying each other’s company.
“Excuse me” she interrupted politely, nodding her head towards the one seat that remained vacant in their group, “Mind if I come an’ join y’all?”
“Oh, what a quaint accent” commented a well-to-do looking mare.
“Such a bold statement considering it’s so out of fashion” added another.
“I don’t suppose it’s her real voice, do you?” the third chipped in.
“That would certainly be tragic” snarked the first mare, “Imagine not being able to speak properly.”
“On second thoughts” said Applejack, the polite smile having since dropped from her face, “I’ve just remembered somewhere else I need to be.”
She stomped away, their callous laughter echoing condescendingly in her ears. For the second time in only a few minutes, she found herself thinking fondly of her fashionista friend.
“I can imagine Rarity would have been able to fit right in …” she grumbled setting aside the differences she had once shared with the prissy white unicorn, “Wish she were here now.”
Somewhat dejectedly, she stomped down the carriage to find another one far enough away so that she wouldn’t be able to hear the voices of the pretentious ponies she had just excused herself from, but before she could reach the door, she met the conductor coming towards her.
“Tickets please” he requested, and Applejack doffed her hat to retrieve it and pass it over.
He fed it between the jaws of his clipper and punched it, eyeing her sad expression as he gave it back.
“If you haven’t taken a seat yet Miss” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “Somepony didn’t show up for his reservation on the observation deck. Would you care for a free upgrade to the best seat in the house?”
“Would I?” she beamed back excitedly.
“I say, chappie!” shouted one of the snobbish ponies, as if ordering a lacky about.
The conductor turned slowly to face the rude passenger and acknowledge his call, “Yes, Sir?”
“Look here!” he bellowed, “If there’s a free upgrade going, I’m more important than she is! Don’t you know who I am?””
“I’m sorry you don’t know who you are, Sir” replied the conductor coolly, “But I’ll be right back to help you once I’ve escorted this Lady to her seat.”
In the stunned silence that followed, he turned and bade Applejack follow him through into the next carriage. The door closed automatically with a click behind them and Applejack said, “This sure is mighty kind of you.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to let them get away with speaking to you like that” he replied.
“Oh” she said, sounding embarrassed, “You heard that?”
“Yes” he acknowledged, “I know the type. They act rich and get their kicks lauding their position over others. They push in to be first for handouts and are always last to pay their bills. To be honest it was a pleasure to offer you something that any of them would have sold their grandmother for.”
Applejack felt her embarrassment melt away as she warmed immediately to this kind stallion, knowing that she had at least one friend on the train for the long journey ahead.
The conductor guided her through another carriage and then led her up a set of stairs that opened out into a fantastic open space with stunning views all around. Her mouth fell open and she was temporarily silenced as she took in the startling panorama. He stopped at a pair of empty seats and offered her the choice.
“Well thank you very much, Sir” she said regaining her voice, “Which one’s mine? I mean, there’s two seats here an’ only one of me. Where’s my travel buddy?”
“There isn’t one” he replied with a sly grin, “I didn’t want to give any of those rude ponies the chance to spoil your journey. I’ll be back later with the luncheon menu, but for now I suggest you sit back and relax.”
“Lunch?” she enquired, “But I didn’t order anythin’.”
“Complementary with the seat reservation” he explained, “It would only go to waste otherwise.”
“Well, ain’t this somethin’” she said to herself as he left her in peace, “A good view an’ fancy food too. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.”
The conductor was as good as his word and Applejack found herself being waited on with a full silver service. When he served her the first course, he could sense her discomfort at not knowing which utensil she should be using and whispered the correct choice in her ear, watching her face light up with gratitude. He was more used to the clientele receiving this service being formally trained in etiquette and found her to be refreshing, making sure that she had the best of attention, partly to put her at her ease and partly because he enjoyed her company.
The meal was excellent and the service second to none. Given the sophistication of her surroundings, she even omitted the customary burping at the end of the meal and settled back to watch the scenery unfold before her. She spared a fleeting thought for the party of snobbish ponies below her; their acerbic personalities must have grated on each other after a while, and Applejack thought briefly how their punishment for being so unpleasant was to be cursed with each other’s company, especially on a long journey like this. On that happy thought, she smiled and reclined her seat, “What goes around comes around” she said quietly.
The hills began to give way to flatter terrain making the sky look unfeasibly large. From her position high up on the observation deck, Applejack scanned her head left to right, from horizon to horizon just trying to take in the sheer enormity of it; so different from the orchards of apple trees back home that outsiders may have found claustrophobic.
The conductor came round again later with the dinner service, which was even more impressive than the lunchtime fare, and showed Applejack how the seat converted into a bunk for the night ahead, affording her every comfort.
Once she had finished the meal, she watched the day give way to twilight and thence onward to night with a crescent moon counterpointing the patchwork of stars that twinkled beguilingly down on her. She thought about what tomorrow’s meeting with Golden Graham would hold and gently slid off to sleep with a contented smile on her face.