As I embark on yet another cross-continent train journey, I find myself reflecting on the experience of travelling slowly. I have done nothing else since before the pandemic; the last time I was on a plane must have been in September of 2019 when I was in Lisbon for the Linux Plumber’s conference. Since then, I have avoided travelling when flying was the only option.
Eschewing flying naturally means spending a lot of time on ground transportation, which means trains for anything longer than a couple of hundred of kilometres1. Travelling this way is, compared to flying, slow. Going to any major city in Europe from Denmark takes at least one full day, often more. Two full days gets you to any of a large proportion of major cities in western or central Europe, and three days allows you to cross the full continent, assuming you’re able to stick to major railway corridors. That last one I’ve only ever done once, on a pretty cool trip all the way to Portugal.
Travelling this way is a very different experience than hopping on a plane and popping up in a different city across the continent, or even across the world. Thinking back on when I did this, the experience of flying feels more like teleporting: like going from one place to another without crossing through the intervening space.
After my first couple of experiences with travelling slowly, I realised that I quite enjoy the relaxing, almost meditative feel of it. I think this comes from the long stretches of downtime without anywhere you have to go. Getting on the right train on time can be hectic, sure, but once you’re on it you have a stretch of multiple hours where you don’t have anywhere you have to be. You can move around freely on the train, so it doesn’t feel constrained. And someone else is driving, so it’s not a task you have to actually engage with like driving a car. Leaving you free to really relax, letting your mind wander as you stare out the window.
When flying somewhere I would often feel disoriented and out of place for a while after arriving, even on short trips that did not involve any jet lag. Whereas when travelling by train, crossing the intervening distance while watching the landscape glide by through the window, it feels more like I have actually, well, arrived when I get to my destination.
When standing on the platform waiting for the train that would take me on the first leg of my journey to the Czech Republic2, it occurred me how much I have gotten used to this. I found myself idly considering what it would be like to instead go to the airport, hop on a plane, and be in Brno a couple of hours later. And it hit me that the this mostly just felt odd and stressful to consider. Whereas the prospect of two days spent mostly on trains felt soothing and relaxing in comparison.
