National Harbor- the environmentalist's nightmare- please arrive by car or limo, or cruise ship. But bowing to the county, limited-stop bus service was provided from Southern Avenue to the resort. For those who don't know the area, this is a lipspeak for the resort workers and mass transit advocates. So what I did not know was how 'rough' Southern Avenue was, or at least according to what I saw. Hoodlums staring gaped-mouth to the station manager's booth, then hurdling over a lowish gate to evade payment. Time constraints- it was almost dark outside- had us have the desire to take a $16 boat trip to our local ferry stop in Georgetown. But the last one left at 5:10pm. It was 7pm. But the time flew anyway, having fun in the glass elevators.
So on the way back home, along comes a train marked Yellow and Greenbelt. Silly train. We got on a train. As it headed deeper into the suburbs, the riders were more clean cut, and we happened across a young woman reading a book- a relieving sight.Suitland!? I didn't remember passing by there on the way to Southern Avenue. Then it hit. We were on the wrong train. From that platform at Southern Avenue, it turned out that the goofy mixuped sign did display where we wanted to go. I and Little Brother did not read the platform signs one bit. So, remembering the Dietrich Bonhoeffer quote about trains from my planner, "If you board the wrong train, it is useless to run along the corridor in the opposite direction". So in the 13-minute layover, we got to see train cars disconnected. A loud, subtle movement separated the cars. It was not that bad after all.