Trip Coach: August 2, 2005

A quick glance around Arizona State University's campus in Tempe--where a majority of the 40,000-plus student body appears to be minoring in tanning--and it makes sense why the school's mascot is the Sun Devil. The 160,000-person town's hub is Mill Avenue, which runs alongside the campus and offers everything a student needs: trendy nightclubs, shops specializing in T-shirts (with self-defining statements, like "Protestor"), and restaurants at all price levels (undergrad, grad student, and visiting parents). On neighboring University Drive, Restaurant Mexico serves authentic central Mexican cuisine; the frijoles de la hoya (spicy bean soup) has helped more than one student recover from a hangover. Come dinnertime, Four Peaks Brewing Company, hidden behind an industrial park a half-mile east of campus, offers well-above-average pub fare, but what brings people back are the microbrews: Don't miss the 8th Street Ale. A little dressier, and popular for date night, Caffe Boa has a nice array of pastas, and a huge wine-by-the-glass list. Tempe is only 10 miles east of Phoenix, but there's enough culture to make it a destination in its own right. Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1959 (completed in 1964), ASU's landmark Gammage Auditorium has a striking round facade that looks like it's draped with red sandstone curtains. Valley Art movie house screens indie films in a grand old building. Phoenix-based chain Zia Records has an outpost in town with a particularly strong selection of albums by local bands made big (among them the Meat Puppets and the Gin Blossoms). When major acts come here, they play at the amphitheater in Tempe Beach Park, at the edge of Tempe Town Lake. Planners in the landlocked area blocked off a dry riverbed using a pair of rubber dams, then filled the thing like a two-mile-long bathtub. Now egrets, cranes, and the occasional pelican have a new stop on their migration routes. Swimming is not allowed, but Rio Lago Cruise Company, on the south side of the lake, rents four- and six-person electric cruisers, as well as kayaks. On the northern edge of town, Papago Park surrounds the zoo and botanical gardens. The park has 8.5 miles of hiking trails dotted with saguaro cacti. South Mountain, 13 miles south of campus in Phoenix, is one of the world's largest city parks, covering more than 16,000 acres and including mountain biking and hiking trails. The easy, three-mile Hidden Valley trail takes two hours and recalls the landscapes of John Wayne movies. Whatever the season, ASU has pretty good sports teams and a handful of stadiums; Barry Bonds, Reggie Jackson, and Jake Plummer are all alums. Even on the rare sellout, it's still possible to get a ticket at the gate (scalping is legal in Arizona). One of the best places to stay near Mill Avenue is the Fiesta Inn. All 270 rooms are done in a simple, Southwestern style, with mesa prints on the wall, colorful throw pillows, and stained-glass lanterns. An added perk is a $2 discount on the $7 pass into ASU's recreation complex, which grants access to tennis courts, a weight room, and two Olympic-sized outdoor pools. Operators   Rio Lago Cruise Company 55 W. Rio Salado Pkwy., 480/517-4050 Lodging   Fiesta Inn 2100 S. Priest Dr., 800/528-6481, from $95 Food   Restaurant Mexico 120 E. University Dr., 480/967-3280   Caffe Boa 398 S. Mill Ave., 480/968-9112   Four Peaks Brewing Company 1340 E. Eighth St., 480/303-9967 Attractions   Gammage Auditorium 1200 S. Forest Ave., 480/965-5062   Tempe Beach Park 80 W. Rio Salado Pkwy., 480/350-8625   South Mountain 10919 S. Central Ave., Phoenix   Valley Art 505 S. Mill Ave., 480/222-4275   Shopping   Zia Records 105 W. University Ave., 480/829-1967

Since 1904, Canada's longest-running train, the Ocean, has been picking up passengers in Montreal and taking them on a 21-hour journey through New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, finally depositing them in Halifax. This summer, VIA Rail, the Amtrak of Canada, launched a new level of service called the Easterly class, promising redecorated cars with a Maritime Provinces theme, two meals featuring local cuisine, and something called a Maritime Learning Experience. The idea was to attract more tourists to the eastern provinces, where foreigners currently only account for 10 percent of VIA Rail riders. Now, if you're willing to spend the time and money to travel by rail, you've probably got a bit of a nostalgic streak. Call me a romantic, but my dream train is a pastiche of ones from old Hollywood movies, where Marilyn Monroe strums a ukulele in a Pullman berth and Orson Welles lurks in the corridor, ducking passport inspectors. I'm grateful for any anachronistic touch a train company can offer to nourish my fantasies. Eager to see what VIA's Easterly class was about, I booked a Double Deluxe cabin for me and my girlfriend, Erin. My first impression was disappointing. Rather than behemoths of steel wreathed in steam, the cars were diesel work-horses--narrow and brand-new. Our tiny cabin's "Maritime theme" translated to one photograph of the lobster boats of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. The shower, for which I'd paid an additional $42 by upgrading from the Double cabin, was just a nozzle mounted on the bathroom wall--perfect for hosing down the toilet. Things looked up as we pulled out of Montreal. At the back of the train, the double-decker Park Car instantly satisfied my longing for retro. All stainless steel and elegantly curved windows, it felt like a '47 Pontiac (make that a '47 Pontiac being towed by Hyundais). We'd booked a table for the second dinner seating, at 8:00 p.m. The diners at the 6:30 p.m. seating had eaten all of the pan-seared Atlantic halibut, so I took the vegetarian option, a plate of steamed zucchini and spinach risotto, and paired it with a pint of Propeller Bitter, a dark, Halifax-made microbrew with butterscotchy bottom notes. Though the waiters insisted the gluey risotto was tortellini, they made up in charm what they lacked in expertise. "Attention!" shouted our waiter, Ron, after the lights flickered off. "I'm taking up a collection. We've forgotten to pay our power bill again!" Dodgy lights weren't the only problem. Several members of the staff candidly mourned the loss of the stainless steel HEP cars (for Head-End Power). Until recently, the entire train had been of the same 1950s vintage as the Park Car. The Renaissance cars that replaced them were built for the Chunnel. Tailor-made for European executives in search of a quick nap before a meeting, the Renaissance cars weren't nearly as comfortable for almost a full day's occupancy. In addition to the amiable staff, the Ocean's major draw was the scenery we passed. I returned to the Park Car shortly after dawn to watch the spruce forests of New Brunswick unfurling. After crossing the pink Tantramar salt marshes on the isthmus that links Nova Scotia to the Canadian mainland, we entered a more verdant landscape patched with farms, lakes, and wildflower-dotted fields. A VIA employee named Gary Frenette led the Maritime Learning Experience, which he animated with a grab bag of props. Different tartans, Gary said, represent the Maritime Provinces, and he pointed to his own vest: The forest green stood for lumbering; blue for water; and gold for wealth. He then led a lively Q&A about local food using a rubber lobster as his aid. Erin and I found it a little lightweight, but the kids onboard enjoyed themselves. Plus, Gary was game to go off topic and answer questions about passing sights, such as Springhill, Nova Scotia, site of one of Canada's worst mining disasters. A couple of hours outside Halifax, the air conditioning broke down. As the temperature inside neared 95 degrees, several passengers informally exchanged impressions. In spite of the glitches, the consensus was that the scenery was beautiful, the staff friendly, and the food quite good. The Renaissance cars, however, were a disappointment. The quarters were so cramped that wrestling with a suitcase made you feel like you were in a Marx Brothers skit. "Train travel reminds you how big the world is," observed one passenger, a British Airways pilot. "As opposed to airplanes, which fool you into thinking it's very small." The sentiment resonated. After 22 stops and several breakdowns, the Ocean had been one of the pokiest milk runs I'd ever been on. But I'll never forget the experience--in distinct contrast to the 90-minute flight home. Booking tips   Splurge on Easterly class. It gets you dinner, breakfast, and exclusive access to the Park Car, with a teacher on hand. A Comfort sleeper, about $50 less, only buys a cabin.   Avoid the Renaissance equipment. Several departures a week still use the roomier, old-fashioned HEP cars. The composition of the trains varies weekly, so you have to ask the reservationist on the phone, or look for the words "stainless steel" if you're booking online.   Don't spring for a shower in a Double Deluxe. It's weak at best, and a showerless Double cabin is up to $42 less.   Reserve five days in advance for 30 percent off. The Ocean leaves Montreal at 6:30 p.m. every day but Tuesday. Easterly class is only offered May through October. Tickets start at $240, 888/842-7245, viarail.ca.

Carrying a nine-pound musket upright between two fingers is pretty painful. It feels like your right shoulder is slowly being dislocated and your knuckles are about to snap apart. I know, because I did it while marching in formation and wearing a wool Confederate uniform (jacket and cap, anyway) in 90-degree heat and overwhelming humidity. I'd signed up, with about 30 others, to live the life of a 19th-century soldier for 18 hours (from 4 p.m. to 10 a.m.) at the Civil War Adventure Camp at Pamplin Historical Park, a 422-acre complex of historical homes, museums, and trails near Petersburg, Va. While we changed into uniforms--you can request Union or Confederate--we were told to store our cell phones in lockers. We then learned how to load muskets (with gunpowder but no bullets), practiced all kinds of flag-waving military signal codes, skirmished against our enemy, and did guard duty for 30 minutes at a time, which involved pacing with a musket and ordering another person to "Halt!" The food and lodging were true to the times, too: For dinner, we ate beef stew with hardtack (a tough cracker); for breakfast, we had beef jerky with dried fruit; and in between, we slept in tents or bunkhouses. "We try to straddle the line between authenticity and comfort," explained Jefferson Spilman, a longtime war-museum guide, who was lieutenant of our company. Comforts included modern bathroom facilities, water breaks, and even wages--in the form of admission to the on-site National Museum of the Civil War Soldier (normally $13.50) and a $5 voucher for the gift shop. Between hollering orders and demonstrating bayonet techniques, Lt. Spilman regaled us with stories about how soldiers never washed and had nicknames for everything. (The "Virginia quickstep" sounds like something you do at a cotillion, but it actually referred to diarrhea.) Half of the participants were grown men getting their reenactment feet wet. "I love history," said Ed Gill, 63, a retired medical photographer from Hillsborough, N.C. "But real reenactments take too much dedication and equipment.... And my wife said no." The rest were kids, or their mothers. "I'm obsessed with the Civil War," said Jacob Walker, a 10-year-old from Mechanicsville, Va. (His whole Cub Scout troop had come to the camp.) "I've created my own regiment. We practice after school in my backyard. I'm the general." When I asked Jacob what he thought of all the marching, he barked at me: "We're not supposed to be talking in formation!" But then he softened somewhat. "It's my first reenactment, too," he confided. The next Rally Days are September 3, and October 1 and 29; groups of 20 or more can book private Platoon Programs anytime. Kids under 14 carry rifle-shaped sticks, instead of muskets. 804/861-2408, civilwaradventurecamp.com, $70.