Walking through the train involves zigzagging through narrow aisles. Fond of small spaces, I hope for a little burrow of a room. I am not disappointed. The door shuts behind me, and the train jerks forward, the whistle blows, the track slaps beneath my feet. I sink into my bed and rock with the train, watching the landscape.
White farmhouses stand stark against green fields.
Two boys on a high wall toss rocks onto the train roof. A woman sits in a second-floor window, watching us go by. In our eight days of travel we will make close to thirty stops, including overnights in stations. Here are a few highlights. The train begins to move, and I watch a landscape that sharply contrasts with yesterday's.