TRAVEL
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The Art of Catching Trains
Bryan Dawe argues that
European rail travel is not only
romantic, stress-free and great
for chance encounters, it’s also
first-class for the environment.
Politicians are generally not fond of political
satirists and we humble ridiculers go out of
way to avoid most politicians.
It was due therefore to an unhappy quirk of timing
that Alexander Downer, our Foreign Minister, and
I chanced to meet on a deserted platform of the
beautiful 19th century Longreach railway station in
Western Queensland.
Unable to avoid the encounter, we grappled to find a
topic of conversation other than politics until it emerged
that a shared a love of trains had led each to the
station.
After a suitably polite interval discussing the subject,
Alexander's words as he strode from the platform
left me a little bewildered: 'Anyway, Bryan, we don't
have to travel on trains any more, do we?' His love
of trains clearly did not extend to travelling on them.
My choice to travel by train isn't about whether I can
afford faster means of transport or not. Given the
option between travelling by air or rail, I succumb
to my addiction - trains will always be my first
preference.
I agree with Orson Welles' view on air travel: 'There
are only two emotions in a plane: boredom and terror'.
Further, my dislike of airports is best described by British writer, the late Dennis Potter, who said: 'I did
not fully understand the dread term "terminal illness"
until I saw Heathrow for myself.'
My romance with rail travel began in the seventies
following a train trip from Zagreb, Croatia through
Serbia, Macedonia into Greece. For a wide-eyed
innocent from Adelaide on his first overseas trip the
journey that revealed, not just a diversity of scenery
but living conditions that were often confronting.
Observing the oppressive housing of communist
regimes, the poverty in some of the rural areas and
the drabness it engendered in these societies, made
me appreciate the freedoms I had taken for granted
in Australia.
Having returned to Europe regularly since then my
liaison amoureuse with European train travel has
not diminished in the intervening years.
I recently had cause to recollect Downer's dismissive
words after my partner, the Kiwi, and I spent two
and a half months last European winter travelling by
train from Austria through Romania, Hungary,
Slovakia, Czechoslovakia, Italy, Spain, Morocco and
France, ending our trip in London via the Chunnel
train from Paris. A rail journey that was as much fun
as is legally allowable under the Geneva Convention.
Constant travel as part of your work can often
discourage non-essential wayfaring, but personally,
any weariness entirely disappears at the prospect
of setting out on a long train journey to a new
destination.
Part of the joy of train travel is the beauty and
ambience of many of the larger European railway
stations. Important historically and architecturally,
they are also microcosms of their city; linking an
entire country, they are meeting places, dining venues,
workplaces both legal and otherwise, music and
street theatre venues and homes to those unable
to find shelter. For those given to people-watching
there are no better vantage points than the platform
bar or café of a large European station.
Two fine examples are in Paris: the Gare de Nord
from where the Eurostar departs for London and the
Gare de Lyon, where the super fast TGV trains
leave for the South of France.
Under the magnificent roof of the Gare Du Lyon is a
treasure that should not be missed - the remarkable
Belle Époque Train Bleu restaurant. Built in 1901
to impress foreigners attending the Universal
Exhibition, the sculptures, chandeliers, and frescoes
adorning the Train Bleu provide a breathtaking visual
experience. It is well worth the price of a coffee to
savour surrounds that have long been a favourite
haunt of writers and artists and had regular patrons
in Coco Chanel, Jean Cocteau, Sarah Bernhardt,
Colette and Dali.
Less affluent but no less captivating is Budapest's
Keleti pályaudvar station on Baross Square.
Constructed between 1881 and 1884, it was at
the time one of the most modern railway stations
in Europe. Underneath Keleti is the Metro which,
inaugurated in May 1896 by Emperor Franz Joseph
to celebrate a thousand years since the arrival of
the Magyars, was the first underground rail system
in Europe.
If you are a lover of coffee, you can experience one of
Europe's finest cafes by taking the Metro from Keleti
to Vorosmarty Square, and exiting at the doorway of
the famous Café Gerbaud. After a coffee and pastry
or hot chocolate so rich you could backstroke in it,
waddle back down to the Metro and catch the M1
to Széchenyi fürd, where you can pretend to work
off calories with an occasional lap of the beautiful
outdoor thermal Széchenyi Baths - one of the half
a dozen excellent thermal baths in Budapest. In
winter, for a small fee, which includes entry, towel
and cossie hire, through the rising steam you can
watch the locals play chess on floating boards as
you soak in heated pools surrounded by snow.
While a great variety of food is available on most
international European trains, part of the fun of
travelling is discovering the food markets and
purchasing local fare for the journey ahead. Like a
Royal Flush that beats all comers in a poker game,
a picnic on a European train trumps anything else.
On a long haul particularly, there is nothing more
satisfying than the ritual unwrapping of wine glasses,
cheese, salami, and olives, and as tradition dictates,
popping the cork from the first bottle of local vino
before the familiar conductor whistle is heard.
Overnight travel in a sleeper offers its own particular
pleasures, the anticipation of the journey ahead,
and the arrival in an unfamiliar destination. There is
something magical about lying in bed, lulled by the
hypnotic rhythm of the train wheels and the odd red,
watching the countryside unfold in the evening light.
Deeper into the night, as the train speeds through
remote stations, the darkness relieved by a single
light under which stands the lone figure of the
station master, uniformed and with flag by his side,
presents an eerie solitude reminiscent of an Edward
Hopper painting.
By choice, most of my train journeys throughout
Europe have been during winter. Considerably fewer
tourists, a greater likelihood of securing sleepers or
couchettes and the breathtaking beauty of snow
dusted landscapes, outweigh any disadvantages of
travelling with additional woollies and soggy socks.
There is also something soothing about exchanging
the harshly lit Australian summer for the winter light
in Europe. It is impossible to remain absorbed in a book or penning your magnum opus as the afternoon
light, soft and diffused, gives passing villages the
appearance of a sepia photograph.
Over the years of journeying by rail, I have been
entertained, charmed, educated by, shared food and
wine, and laughed with some very fine and generous
fellow travellers.
One certainty about appearing on television once a
week for over 15 years is that you are going to be
recognised on occasion; a happy by-product of
which is that you meet a lot of interesting people.
Not that you are prepared for it at 5 am sitting on a
commuter train on the French-Spanish border town
of Portbou on the last leg of a memorable 20 hour
train journey from Italy's Adriatic coast to Barcelona,
unshaven, ill-kempt, in want of a shower, a little
weary and baiting the equally dishevelled Kiwi for
sport. So when a distinctly Australian voice remarked
laconically 'You're a long way from home' the
temptation was to act dumb and respond 'No speaka
da English'. Thankfully, I didn't, Alf turned out to be
a wonderful companion, an inveterate traveller
who has a job many would covet: he spends eight
months of the year teaching 'corporate suits' stuff
they already know and gets paid sufficiently for it to
spend the remaining four travelling. While we were
seeking Gaudi's Barcelona, Alf was chasing the light
of Caravaggio at the Prado in Madrid.
Train travel engenders a sense of community that
is lacking on planes. I can't think of an occasion on
a plane trip when passengers upon hearing their
language being severely butchered by two foreigners
trying to order a sandwich, politely came forward -
as they did on a train from Hungary to Romania -
offering a free pronunciation course in the
Romanian language.
Not only does train travel offer a much more intimate
view of a country than is possible from 30,000 feet,
you are not subjected to the indignity of sitting in
foetal position for 24 hours - wedged next to a
marketing manager from a national chicken concern,
from whom the only respite is the occasional trip to
the loo, or a lap around the cabin.
On a train should you find yourself seated next to
a stranger you could cheerfully strangle, you can
always beat a hasty retreat to the bar or restaurant
carriage.
Over and above the romantic reasons for choosing
to travel by train, there is a far more pressing one.
There is now great concern worldwide over the impact
of aviation and shipping fuels on climate change. While
debate rages over the effects of increased aviation
emissions arising from cheap flights, the emissions from shipping lines - greater offenders than planes -
quietly remain the elephant in the loungeroom.
In the United Kingdom and Europe, there exists
a growing band of concerned travellers who are
choosing not to fly at all or who are limiting their air
travel, electing to journey by train instead because
of the substantially reduced impact on the environment.
Cheap flights have revolutionised travel in Europe
but climate experts are predicting their days are
numbered. They argue that: should airlines, who are
not part of the Kyoto agreement be brought within
the EU European Emissions Trading Scheme, as it
appears they will be obliged to, the days of heavily
subsidised air travel will be over forcing airlines to
take responsibility for the full environmental cost of
their emissions - in short, goodbye cheap air travel.
While environmental concerns force reality pills down
the throats of airlines and shipping companies, I'm
feeling a little parched - pass the corkscrew I think
I just heard a conductor's whistle.
GETTING THERE:
From Australia, if commencing train travel from
Paris: Air France or the myriad of other international
carriers with add-on flights to Paris.
Air France: www.airfrance.com.au
Qantas: www.qantas.com.au
CONTACTS:
Rail Enquiries/Eurail passes:
RailPlus Australia: www.railplus.com.au
Rail Plus,
Level 4, 10-6 Queen Street, Melbourne T: 03 9642 8644
WHEN TO GO:
Any season, however, during the peak summer period
seats on the trains are in much higher demand and
seat, couchette and sleeper reservations are essential.
These can be reserved at the stations or before you
leave - contact Rail Plus. For those who don't mind
rugging up, mid-late December through February
when the snow is falling makes any train trip, particularly
through the alpine regions, both charming and magical. There are fewer tourists and it is more relaxed.
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