I’m on the train from Budapest to Zagreb, sharing a coupe with Kate and Mollie from Australia and Josefine and Alexander from Denmark. It’s an old train, it stops a lot, and Josefine and Alexander, who have traveled by train in the Balkans before, tell us that the train won’t be on time. No way. It never is. We’ve been on the move for five hours, and we still haven’t crossed the Hungarian-Croatian border, so I guess they’re right. I don’t mind that much, though. The train is super hot, but as long as the train moves a little bit, the breeze that comes in through the open windows is soft and fragrant and just really nice. I’ve also booked a hostel in Zagreb, so I know exactly where to go once we arrive. No feeling lost at the train station in a strange city in the middle of the night.
There’s been a discussion going on in the coupe for the entire trip, about everything from our studies to the European Union and the water shortage in Australia. Outside the windows, the fields of sunflowers, corn and grains have gradually changed into deciduous forests. The air smells of sun dried earth and summer afternoon. I have a plastic bag full of the sweetest apricots I’ve ever tasted. I’m content. Life is good.
Katja Malmborg 