J.K. Rowling had the inspiration for Harry Potter on a train ride. It must be something magical about it.
As I was traveling on the train from Bucharest to Brasov yesterday, I thought of writing a blog post on the subject of trains.
I think some of my grandpa’s passion for railways transferred to me. He was always showing books to my cousins whenever they came to visit. Maybe that’s one of the reasons they stopped showing up at his house.
Didn’t travel much by train when I was younger. Didn’t leave the city much so there was no need. One of the first trips must have been to Brasov, with my grandparents. So you see, for me, the train will always be connected with that city. It’s magical stuff, I tell you.
I like the idea of sitting on your own seat, like the reservation at some fancy restaurant. The idea of a window next to me, looking out at the world that you can’t see otherwise because you don’t have the time or the interest. It becomes interesting only when you see it from a train window. The idea of stopping in stations, people getting on and off. The idea of a whistle to end it all, just like in a football match. The idea of changing scenery. In just a couple of hours, you can go from city, to plain field, to cattle, to people, to cars, to circus tents (yes, in Ploiesti), to clouds, to a clear sky, to storms. The idea of an arrival. Maybe the idea of someone waiting for you at the end of the ride.
The train that I took yesterday on my way to Brasov (I wonder for which n-th time?) was a bit special. It had the plan of the Paris routes above the doors. The train carts came from France and I never knew it. It was like I was there and in Romania at the same time.
I told you, something magical is going on.