Appreciation and purple prose on a train
Jun. 22nd, 2010 02:34 pmI had the dubious pleasure of traveling to Bergen with a train carriage filled with middle-aged Spanish ladies. Hands flying everywhere, my seat was continuously vibrating from the motion.
It was fascinating to watch them appreciate the nature flying by, and the Oslo-Bergen journey is a very scenic route. They must have taken about a thousand pictures, beginning with motives I've always found pretty unremarkable; a small red boathouse by a lake, a hill with grazing cows...
I've lost count how many times I've traveled on that train, but they made me appreciate it again, like I was watching those snow-tipped mountains reflected in still lakes for the first time; tunnels carved out of the living rock, grassy hills with cavorting lambs like a Bob Ross painting, metallic blue ponds of icy water on the mountain plateau and a sky as big as anything. Man, it's all beautiful.
And then stepping off in Bergen on a beautiful warm summer day, the familiar smell of lilacs overwhelming me just as the frenzied accordion in 'Vesoul' starts playing on my mp3 player. Perfect.
It was fascinating to watch them appreciate the nature flying by, and the Oslo-Bergen journey is a very scenic route. They must have taken about a thousand pictures, beginning with motives I've always found pretty unremarkable; a small red boathouse by a lake, a hill with grazing cows...
I've lost count how many times I've traveled on that train, but they made me appreciate it again, like I was watching those snow-tipped mountains reflected in still lakes for the first time; tunnels carved out of the living rock, grassy hills with cavorting lambs like a Bob Ross painting, metallic blue ponds of icy water on the mountain plateau and a sky as big as anything. Man, it's all beautiful.
And then stepping off in Bergen on a beautiful warm summer day, the familiar smell of lilacs overwhelming me just as the frenzied accordion in 'Vesoul' starts playing on my mp3 player. Perfect.