I really like being on a journey. Especially when travelling by train: No traffic to look out for, comfortable seats, enough space to walk about if one’s foot has gone to sleep and you definitely see more of the route that you’re travelling on than boring highways.
I’ve got to go by train every Friday and Sunday, on Fridays in company with my protégée (who’s still not started to write in his blog: Bad protégée) to get to the town where my maternal family and my friends live, and on Sunday to get back to Frankfurt and my paternal family.
Every time I go to the central railway station I can see the trains going to different places than the one I’m supposed to go to and think of just taking another one. Maybe when I’m off at university, for the train that’s going there also goes on to the North Sea.
I always loved the sea, but unfortunately it’s quite far away, though my mother says that the part of the clime where we take our walks resembles an island very much: You tread on quite fine sand, the wind is blowing all the time and you can’t look behind the hills so you can imagine there’s the sea instead of further hamlets. The sand also coveres the way to the well that we get our drinking water from (the well itself lies in the surrounding swampland) and the path is surrounded by alleys and wood, so the imagination of the sea rushing behind the things that block your sight is still there…