This space is reserved for our travel stories, grouped (categorised) in the sub-menu items. We travel by train where possible and affordable, hence the title of our travelogue.
Why Rusty Rails?
We both love trains. It comes from our childhood. Trains were and still are the basic, affordable intercity public transportation available to everyone in Europe. Alas, not in Canada, where the auto and airline industries are king and queen.
Travel by train is relaxing and comfortable. Seats are spacious, one can walk around and stretch.
One can find a good observation spot and soak in the world outside, the scenery and the life quickly passing by the window. One can chat with the fellow passengers, hear or share a story or two knowing that you’ll never meet again.
Or just read, write, work on your next project.
Traveling by train aside from providing comfort, is environmentally friendly. What better way to reduce your carbon footprint? Just don’t ask Canadian politicians to join you on that fast train. If they were remotely honest about the environment they’d be subsidizing more public transportation rather than bailing out car manufacturers.
Diana:
I remember, however vaguely, the days when summer vacation meant my parents dragging us out of bed in the wee hours, walking about an hour to the nearest train station, boarding a train that would take about six hours to the seaside. I remember more clearly my high school field trips, where a compartment for eight would cram in sixteen or more, half of us hanging our feet from the luggage rack. I remember my university years when summer meant boarding a train to my hometown, enjoying the dichotomy between two worlds: the fast-moving majestic scenery outside and the cozy camaraderie that often develops between complete strangers in the compartment.
I am a lousy traveler in most forms of transportation, because of stubborn motion sickness. Trains are the exception. They allow me to enjoy traveling.
Alex:
The trains of my childhood were huge, noisy steaming monsters, their mournful whistles announcing their passing throughout the day and night. My friends and I would often head to the nearest tracks and wait for the next earth-shaking, coal-smelling, metal-screaming passing of these monsters. While most of our travel was local and by bus or coach, it was always a treat to get onto a train and to hear that regular clickety-click as we sped to our destination. The longest trip I took as a child was on a school trip from Manchester to London. But every train trip was an enjoyable adventure.
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