I spent $800 for a roomette on a 57-hour Amtrak trip. It gave me a taste of luxury travel — and I don't want to go back to coach.

Whether I'm traveling by plane or train, I always book the cheapest tickets possible, typically landing me somewhere near the back.

When traveling by plane, I covet the plush, first-class seats at the front. As I board, hauling my bags to the last row, I find myself admiring the luxurious seats — the way they recline into beds; the way the people in them always seem relaxed and are somehow always sipping a mimosa. How do they look so rested, so at peace in the midst of the chaos of travel? 

This month, I booked a roomette on an Amtrak trip from Montana to New York City. For $837, I got a taste of luxury: a private room with two beds, three complimentary meals a day, and access to a private lounge in Chicago's Union Station. Insider paid for the accommodation, per our reporting standards.

The trip, which took a total of 57 hours, was the closest I'll ever get to first class. It gave me a glimpse into the lifestyles of rich and rested travelers — and I don't want to go back to coach.

Roomettes are Amtrak's mid-level accommodation, and the cheapest way to travel if you want to have a bed. Because I was traveling alone and the roomettes are designed to fit two people, I had the entire space to myself — and was blown away. 

Roomettes come with two seats that fold into a bed, and an upper bunk for a second traveler. The sleeper car has a dedicated attendant who helps make the beds when it's time to sleep.

With the seats folded into a bed, I had enough room to sleep sprawled out — not folded over a tray table or crammed against the window like I'm used to. With my room door closed, I couldn't hear other travelers or howling infants nearby, and unlike in economy seats, could sleep without headphones.  

Each morning I woke feeling rested and energized. My two nights spent in the roomette showed me that there are two key factors that make travel feel more luxurious: privacy and space.

Located in a car at the back of the train, my roomette had enough space for everything I packed. If I needed my suitcase, it could fit on an extra chair in the room; but when I was done with it, I could put it on a rack in the hallway.

With my suitcase stored, I had plenty of room to spread out. The room came with a mirror, hooks, and hangers for my clothes, as well as enough outlets for my devices. The steps that led to the top bunk doubled as shelves, so there was ample space for a book, water bottle, and other little belongings.

While on short flights, I'm prepared for measly snacks, like a handful of peanuts or pretzels. While on long flights, I'm prepared for borderline inedible meals. For this trip, I had steeled myself for the same — but was impressed by what I got instead.

When I took a seat on the train's dining cart, I found a menu that resembled any given restaurant, offering pasta, burgers, sandwiches, and more. There were even vegetarian options, for herbivores like myself, which were surprisingly good.

The vegan Bolognese, sandwiches, and baked potatoes with vegan chili eclipsed anything I've had on an economy flight. The desserts — cheesecake, mousse, layer cake — left Biscoff cookies in the dust.

Dinner came with a complimentary alcoholic beverage — so I, too, could have been nonchalantly sipping a mimosa, if I chose to.

Prior to booking a roomette, I had never visited lounges at airports or train stations. I've grown used to spending long layovers stationed wherever I can find a seat. 

But with the roomette, I was afforded lounge access during my five-hour layover in Chicago's Union Station and got a glimpse at what I've been missing out on all these years.

When I arrived at the Metropolitan Lounge at 5 p.m., I found free snacks, coffee, and tea, as well as clean, private showers. Spread out over three floors, the lounge was filled with so much seating I couldn't imagine a situation in which every chair would be taken. 

After a shower, a meal, and a hot tea, I boarded the train for my final stretch to New York City.

Even though it took about seven times longer and was twice as expensive as flying, (it can take as few as eight hours and cost as little as $400 to fly from my hometown, Helena, to New York City) taking the train was a far better, more luxurious experience. 

The meals, extra space, and the ability to get a good night's sleep made me wish that I could travel like this more often. And as I crawled into bed on my final night in the roomette, I thought once again of the relaxed, posh people I see in the first-class airplane seats. 

"No wonder they're so rested," I thought as I drifted off, rocked to sleep by the motion of the train.

For 57 hours, I was lucky enough to live like one of those people.