Leaving Europe on a train

I’m used to taking the train everyday. From Antwerp to Brussels, 40 minutes, and then back. But what if you just keep riding? For hours and hours? You end up in the neighbouring country. Keep riding. The next country. Keep riding. You’re so far now, that the train tracks are suddenly  different and they have to adapt the train so you can keep going. And while they’re at it, your passport please.

Blitzbesuch in Berlin

 

I had imagined I would be euphoric when I would finally leave on my big adventure. But with some of the last goodbyes still under my skin, it felt as if I had left half of my heart at home. Frustration got the best of me when one of my phone apps stopped working properly and my e-reader got completely blocked. After a train ride that felt much longer than I had wished, Berlin Hauptbahnhof welcomed me with giant advertisements for… an e-reader.

I made up for it by spending the evening with a Belgian friend who happened to be in the city at the same time, just catching a glimpse of Berlin by night (Brandenburger Tor, what else!). On the photo above: the ‘Palast’, right around the corner of my hostel.

 

Windy Warsaw

 

The five-hour train ride from Berlin to Warsaw relaxed my mind. Sleeping, music listening , scenery watching. I found my happy self again from the moment I stepped out of the railway station, into sunny Warsaw. Just realizing where I was, how far I’d come already and what was ahead, blew my mind. And that was even before I discovered how amazingly beautiful the old town of the Polish capital is. All the colours, the pictural details on the houses, the old streets, the numerous churches… Accompanied by the sun and a lot of wind, I embraced all of it. I finished the afternoon with some ‘pierogi’, typical Polish dumlings, recommended to me by a Polish friend (who sadly couldn’t join me).

Night train to Moscow

Sleeping in a bed on the train: I’m a fan! Seriously, why don’t we have these all over Europe? I would love to be able to take the night train to, for example, Barcelona. Or Rome. Or Budapest. Who should I deliver a petition to?

Sleeping in a 4-bed, all-ladies compartment, I met Sveta from Minsk and Olga from Warsaw. They explained there would be a border control and the change of tracks.
“Don’t be scared,’” said Sveta.
“First time?” Olga asked. I said yes and she smiled. I started wondering what to expect.

Well, the border control was just fine. It took a while before they brought back my passport and in the meantime they asked the others what the purpose of their trip was (I made that up of the bits of Russian I could understand). Then the woman turned to me. I thought she asked for my destination, so I answered in Russian: “To Moscow.” While I’m pretty sure that was correct, she must have detected my accent.
“You don’t speak Russian?” she asked, still in Russian.
“A little bit,” I replied, without switching to English. After that, she left the compartment. I thought she would bring a colleague who could speak English, but she never came back.

Changing tracks was a bit of a surreal experience, since I was falling asleep but kept hearing all these heavy noises outside. Sometimes from further away, sometimes on our own carriage. I tried to figure out what was really happening but I started dreaming weird stuff at the same time. When the train started riding again, it felt like being in a jeep on a very bumpy road. It calmed down later on and I fell asleep. I only woke up when we arrived in Minsk in the early morning, where Sveta got off the train.

Later in the day, I practiced my Russian and Olga practiced her English, while we were making conversation. She told me she’s an artist and next she drew my portrait and gave it to me! I already love these train encounters!