No matter how many times you ride trains in Europe, it never ceases to be a fascinating experience. Don’t know whether it is the novelty of it all, the beautiful landscape, or just the rocking motion of those mighty machines that so enthralls those of us who rarely experience such treats. No doubt it’s a combination of those and many other factors, but whatever it is, I just can’t get enough of it. Mind you, though, that I much prefer to experience European trains during the off-season, when the multitude of visitors to the continent have gone back to work, but even if that’s not possible, any day will do as far as I’m concerned. But this affection for trains is not something everyone possesses, as I recently met some Europeans who literally hated the idea of having to take a train. Go figure.
To a large extent, my love of European trains has a lot to do with seeing things for the first time. When we travel, it is like we send our senses into overdrive. From what we see to what we eat and feel, travelers seem to be in a constant state of overdrive, or enhanced sensitivity. It is as if we cannot get enough of all the things around us, which no doubt receive way more attention than what a local is willing to bestow. As locals ourselves back home, we find it kind of entertaining sometimes to listen to tales from visitors about places we have become too familiar with to notice anymore. Like them, we have been afflicted by a kind of visual numbness induced by familiarity.
Exactly the opposite happens when we travel, specially in trains. That whole combination of speed, visual overload, and briefness, plays wonders inside our heads. Like beautiful postcards flashing at high speed before our eyes, those flashing scenes on a window demand we focus all our senses in order not just to see, but to remember. After all, the very Europe rapidly passing in front of us is precisely the Europe we spent so much money and time to experience. That is why when I ride a train in Europe, afraid that I will miss something, I cannot bring myself to look at anything but that window. Nope, I didn’t come to Europe to read a magazine on a train. I came to Europe to see, feel, and experience Europe. And that window, with its rapidly changing landscape, is precisely the Europe I’m talking about. The small villages, the rivers, the mountains, the pine trees, the tree-lined country roads, the graffiti, the blue sky and vast plains. Yes, all of it. Memories some day, but just as part of me as the world back home. A love affair that has no end.