Late-Night Train Travel

There’s nothing quite like the solemnity of a late night train, as the doors bleep and flash their willingness to open to a baron, silent carriage that is simply waiting for the next station with heavy lids and blurry eyes.

The rumble of movement subsides and gives a brief moment of stillness in the night. A lone passenger decides to depart and sparks into life the sole event reliable enough to stir you from your delicate state of half-sleep; the invigorating snap of alertness that comes from the chill of the evening air tickling your ankles as your gently warmed microcosm is thoughtlessly bitten into by the inky blackness.

The muting of announcements and the subsidence of the hubbub of daytime travel, paired with the foetal rocking and gentle vibrations through the sombre darkness outside pushes us all into a state of drowsiness, while we desperately cling to consciousness, dreading the moment we emerge from sleep – eleven stops past home – at the end of the line with no locomotion until the early hours of tomorrow morning.

Despite my unrelenting disappointment of Sunday-service trains, the experience of dozing through the coastal countryside is a somewhat comforting one. The familiarity of the obscure station stops and the knowing feeling of what is still to come makes the journey infinitely easier to stand. Especially when I have unusual picnics to feast upon.

I also saw this on the Stephen Merchant Amazon page, any fans of the radio shows and podcasts will surely join me in a chuckle. (Bottom left, click for higher resolution)