I love trains

In a family of  speed afficionados it is sometimes hard to be a train enthusiast. The advantages of traveling slowly are completely lost on my kin who believe in the old adage that time is money. For them my preference for traveling by train is mysterious and inexplicable, my maintaining that it is not time lost but time gained goes completely over their heads. Well, yes, in quantity, taking the train often takes more time (the difference between a flight and a train ride from my home to my parents’ place is about 5 hours). But when it comes to the hassle and sideffects of taking the plane, the quality of that time is so much more in favor of the train.

Simply stated: I do not care for airports and passenger planes. If the alternative means taking a boat or serious detours I do take a plane. Same goes for considerable financial differences in ticket prices (it really sucks not being well off). But given the choice I’d probably opt for the train. Not at least out of environmental concerns.

There have been lots of things making me feel sorry for myself lately. Spending the main part of my birthday in a train is not one of them. It feels as if I have been given an unexpected birthday gift. The gift of time. Where else do I have time these days to just sit back, look out of the window and just think. Theoretically, I could do that at home too, but realistically, I almost never do. There is always something I could or should do. Actually, some of these things I do during a train ride like this, such as preparing this weeks lessons.  And even writing this blog post feels like I’m doing it with a lot more leisure than I would usually grant myself during a busy day. It is as if time itself slows down while rolling through the landscape (well, if you’re travelling with a high-speed train it’s more like rushing, but nevertheless). And while time slows down, so does the feeling of could and should. It’s more of a being allowed to. It might not be rational, but working on the train feels less like work. And the fact that the landscape outside is changing when you gaze out to think is a bonus.

Since the prerogative is more a could than should I’m also able to give myself permission to spend the time not working but playing. Therefore I can read a book without feeling guilty for wasting time. After all, I have been given this time on the train, I’m not taking it. This trip I managed to read the latest book of the Mercedes Thompson series by Patricia Briggs (review will follow sometime this or next month). It was so much more pleasurable to read it guiltfree than the two books before that, where I mostly felt that I should have spent the time getting more work done.

One of the dreams I would like to realize some time during my life is taking trips with famous trains, the Orient Express being one of them. While others may phantasize about cruising the seven seas on luxus liners (a thought that truly makes me shudder), I’m daydreaming of traveling on the TransSiberian Railway. To each their own, I suppose.

While speaking of wishful thinking. Here’s another thing that would make a lovely birthday gift for me some day: A naked butler! Marvelous, hmmmm?

Happy 12^th of December! Happy 3^rd Advent! And Happy Birthday to me!