Crossing Countries thru Trains Rides
Wednesday, January 15, 2014 Switzerland 2 Comments

Crossing Countries thru Trains Rides

Wednesdays are the turning point of every week, ‘cos it always signals the start of the “weekend” after work stuff. It’s the ultimate transition day, at least for me, from the i-work-and-stress-more mood to yeah-i-can-stress-less-now. Though it’s normally the pinnacle of the work week, it also is the start of going for after work drinks, some sports here and there, spontaneous meet ups, and all the planning of never-ending weekend activities. Wednesdays evoke more than a mouthful of good mood, even if work and other things come pouring in. What’s not to like about Wednesdays, right?

Another good thing got added to the Why I Like Wednesday list: cross-country train ride. Yes. It happened on a Wednesday and it’s one of the best Wednesday’s I’ll remember forever. I’ve ridden so many trains in my lifetime here in Asia, from danger-driven trips in third world countries to some of the best bunch in power cities, like Tokyo and Shanghai, but there’s something strangely stimulating about a first train ride experience, much more in a setting such as Europe. I rarely use the word “epic” to describe something, ‘cos it sounds overvalued and a dead give-away if you have no other big adjective to describe something. But… just for this instance, let me use it profusely, ‘cos the situation calls for it: The epic train rides, in the most epic continent in the world, are as epic as the history and stories built with it. Pardon the epic pun here.

History has been made and written in the very train tracks of each city, and the next; and to be traveling through it makes all the stories repeat itself, through different impressions and awes of the people riding the trains. It’s like watching a fast-paced National Geographic feature film from the wide-reaching window pane and I have myself as the narrator. It was Wednesday when I hit my first Euro cross-country train ride and every sense and nostalgia got heightened up as the train moved from city to city. It didn’t matter if it was a several hour ride. It’s the best place to read an old comfortable book, wave at random strangers in the window, squiggle some random life notes, listen to a looped music choice, or embrace a glass of chardonnay or cappuccino. It’s the best place to go solo, even at the midst of people and companions.

As the hierarchies of trees transition from every stop, and as the trains collide with the rest of the blurred pictures, I’ve seen a transition from the current reality of things to a trance of solitude and appreciation only I could’ve understood. I’ve realized that this moment was indeed one epic travel that goes down in history.