Fear and loathing on a train, letter 1

Look into my eyes
Look into my eyes

If there’s one thing you should know about Sweden it’s that you can Drown in the Sky. The clouds come in strange and unusual shapes, in layers of different colours, speeds and fluffyness. I am certain that the one thing that could possibly make them better is acid, but then again it makes most things better.

Trains are also cool, i’ve been on a train today for around 14 hours and I can tell you that all of them are clean, well educated and decent to a fault. When I’m on a train i want a bit of diversity and character from both the people inside it and the train itself, but maybe that’s just me. I have fond memories back in Romania of traveling for 8 hours on an old rickety train in december, alone in a 8 person section, walled off f rom the rest of the train because I was riding with the window open, and nobody would’ve wanted the cold they would’ve assuredly gotten, had they rode with me. Other times in sweltering heat I would leave the window open so that I may ventilate myself, again, people were worried that they’d catch a cold and somehow die, so I rode alone in solitude. The average Romanian has a deep seated fear of drafts, folk wisdom saying it’s a bigger killer than the turks. But  far be it from me to judge. I leave them too it and enjoy my cold air blowing in my face.

As I said I’ve been riding a train today for about 14 hours and around 800km, just long enough to start going completely looney. Starting out from Sundsvall I traveled to Gavle, where I switched trains and headed down to Hallsberg. There I switched trains again and headed to Göteborg, where the sky pissed on me, and then quickly another change to get here, Malmö. I can practically see the lights of Copenhagen from the shore but right now I must remember that is beyond my budget, and will wait for me another day with a visit to an Old Friend. I have not slept last night, not a wink, worried I might miss my train in the morning, this was silly  considering I have another 2200km to go before my journey is done!

My stomach is already sick with fatigue. I sit here while a Burger King whopper stares at me intently from a tray, it’s judging me, measuring me up for the brutal assault on my buts it’s about to launch as soon as i start paying attention to it. The key is not to run away, because whoppers are much like dogs in that regard…

I’ll camp it out here in the train station for tonight, maybe go hunting outside later when the beasts have quieted down, get some pelts and start making a tent. Curing hide will be tough when all the tools at my disposal are plastic cutlery and a soda machine, but by Jove if our forefathers could do it then I can too!

In the morning I’ll latch myself onto another high speed bullet and head to Stockholm itself, where I’ll try to score another burger and see if my stomach can handle a full 24h trip to Kiruna, or if I’ll return to Sundsvall with my tail between my legs and only half my journey done. Only the night can tell.

Train stations are universally foggy and dark, at least in my head

They are also universally a place of adventure (which is awesome) and goodbyes (which is not). I still remember when i was in bucharest, during a goodbye of my own i was watching another, as photographers are wont to do. It was a couple, and on their final kiss before he left, as he was leaning out of the train, the train door closed on his noggit. Oh, did I laugh. I still do.
They are also universally a place of adventure (which is awesome) and goodbyes (which is not). I still remember when i was in bucharest, during a goodbye of my own i was watching another, as photographers are wont to do. It was a couple, and on their final kiss before he left, as he was leaning out of the train, the train door closed on his noggit. Oh, did I laugh. I still do.