The train runs through this kingdom of trees. For hours, only pines. Small, clear lakes reflecting the pink, sunset sky. It gets dark pretty early now, we’re in the middle of August and fall is soon upon us. But not yet. The small clusters of birch trees among the pines still carry their leaves in bright green.
I’ve been reading articles about lichenometry. Maybe I’ll tell you what that is, another time. I ate dinner, mackerel in tomato sauce on Finnish rye bread. Real trekking food. The last time I ate that, I was at the Arvika music festival. That was seven years ago. Bittersweet memories.
But now I’m lying in the top bed in the compartment, thinking of the horror stories people told me about night trains in Poland, Hungary, Serbia. How they were locked into their compartments from the outside, robbed in the middle of the night, passports stolen by false police officers. That feels very foreign here. There are even complementary bottles of water on the compartment table, because the restroom tap water isn’t completely safe. I haven’t used mine, I brought my own water in my thermos – but still. It is nice, that they think about that. It is a very friendly world we live in, here in Sweden. Things are taken care of. After more than a month backpacking through Europe by myself, constantly having to be on my guard, make sure things work out they’re supposed to, it’s nice not having to think about everything all the time.
Last time in a sleeping compartment like this must be many years ago with dad. Back then, I could never sleep in places that weren’t a comfortable bed, preferably my my own. Since then, I’ve slept on busses driving through the Andes, on strange people’s couches, in tents and even on a tire once (even though, I must admit, I didn’t sleep very well that particular night). It’s going to be interesting to see, if I’ve become any better at sleeping in sleeping compartments in trains too.
Katja Malmborg 