Essex Junction is something of a puzzler: the Amtrak station is horrid both architecturally and functionally:
It’s hard to imagine how passengers could be treated any worse without it turning into a Monty Python sketch about freemasonry!
Across the street is some lovely fine grained small town urbanism:
We weren’t able to find a hotel in this section of town and so we were forced to the satellite belt of suburban detritus a few miles away. The setting is almost as bad as it looks from this satellite view, although somehow even Vermont stroads seem to be quaint, but the pool had a slide, so LuLu was happy.
As the Vermonter once again becomes the Montrealer I expect TOD to replace some gas stations with mixed use structures and for the Nomad Café to be forced to change its name:
We didn’t have the time on this trip to take the bus into Burlington. I look forward to doing so next time, and to eating at the Nepali Kitchen in Essex itself. It’s great to know that we’re always just a train ride away.