Wednesday, March 13, 2013


I'm on a train. It's my favorite kind of transportation. When the kids are grown and don't need me around anymore, I'll buy a year pass and travel all over Sweden all the time instead of having an office. I'll get a pass for Anders too so we can have travel together.

Train travel stays with you. I remember the night train to go ski in the North when I was little, the trains were so beautiful back then, dark shiny mahogany interiors, green enamel, water in glass pitchers, soap that came out of a steel container like a powder.

 I remember taking a night train to Scotland, waking up to tea and coconut cookies with the most breathtaking landscape passing by outside the window. I remember the trains in Vietnam and in India.

I remember the bullet trains in Japan, the TGV to the south of France.
I love these words:

Train a grand vitesse.

I remember the solace of taking the train from London to Stockholm when I didn't dare to fly. I remember taking the train from Paris with nothing but a nectarine to last me all the way to Stockholm because my dream right then was to be skinny instead of happy, thinking, rejoicing and alive.

I remember taking the train through former Yugoslavia right before you couldn't do that anymore. I remember arriving by train to Venice and it was just as wonderful as it sounds. I remember jumping on a train to Budapest and how that city surprised me in so many ways and I still haven't been back. I love them trains, I really do.