Beards

The overhead lights in the train are such an interesting design. They stretch forward in nicely spaced intervals like the lattice of an sunny garden arbor, slightly reminiscent of a more delicate steel cable bridge. Someone must have intensely thought them out; pondering which angles give off the most pleasing aesthetics. And now they pass mostly un-noticed over the heads of iPhone absorbed passengers, or those … Continue reading Beards

Passing Mortals (random train stops in France)

She gets off the train in her smart blue overcoat matching the Städtische Verkehrsbetriebe Bern [Swiss train company] deep royal marine, one hand hides while the other coaxes the lighting of her cigarette. Black pumps stalk down the platform. Lazy, yet directed, each movement a slow, graceful conservation of energy. It’s on to the next train! For some reason this reminds me of the lanky … Continue reading Passing Mortals (random train stops in France)

Lady (la deuxième, Lausanne to Paris by train)

Her eyes are as clear blue as the passing sky. I wonder what she’s thinking about and what she’s thought in the decades she’s passed. What does she see in the swiftly rolling hills and pastures? Are they new landscapes for her as well? Or does she know them exactly like she knows her hands: delicate and wrinkled with memories? Lips pressed into a straight, … Continue reading Lady (la deuxième, Lausanne to Paris by train)

Lady (on the way to Lausanne)

I will miss this rolling green countryside, the thrill of climbing on a train, the new discovery every day, the fatigue of cheap lunches and sleepless nights in stranger’s beds. The meeting and sudden parting of ways. On the train to Lausanne I talked to Lady. Her name is the only real information I know about her. Well, other than the fact that she escaped … Continue reading Lady (on the way to Lausanne)

Small glimpses from a quickly passing window seat (Florence – Lausanne by train.)

Newspaper open, he glances up to catch a glimpse of the passing train, sitting in the vibrant green lawn of the pocket-park in this little mountain hamlet. A fresh blue shirt and pair of red suspenders gently frame his rotund face and belly. An attentive terrier follows his gaze, perched a few meters from the dark green park bench. Behind him the mountains interlace in beautiful cardboard … Continue reading Small glimpses from a quickly passing window seat (Florence – Lausanne by train.)

Bond (Nice to Florence by Train)

I’m leaving La Region Provence Langue d’Oc-Rousillon with so many good memories. Watching the faded red and gold emblem on the train door slide past for the last time made me so sentimental. It’s the colors of the region that will stay with me forever, long after my sunburned cheeks have healed and my red backpack empties itself of sand and stops smelling of rich musty … Continue reading Bond (Nice to Florence by Train)