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I came careering down the piste at speed and skied slap-bang into some chap who stopped right in front of me. At the time I wasn't aware that I'd broken my left collarbone... following two weeks of immense boredom I was on the verge of insanity, and so when on a trip to my local village I found myself returning to my hotel not only with the bag of apples I'd set out to buy, but also with an Interail ticket, entitling me to free carriage on virtually any train in Europe for a month...
European Tales: Interrail trip around Europe, a lengthy tale
Joseph Tame2006-06-30 17:39:54
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Electricity pylons scar the landscape. Smoke drifts from chimneys of half-built houses. Half-built or half-fallen buildings litter the scene. A little boy with a carrier bag wanders across a vast empty stretch of land - on his way to school?- thank god this train goes so slowly, it feels like we're gonna derail when we change tracks- many old-style wells, buckets on ropes and all- man gets on the train when we stop at a small station, walks down the corridor shouting "Aqua minerale, formula aspirirn" and gets off the other end- just passing through a graveyard for 1001 burnt out trains- extraordinary how many factories are now dilapidated wrecks capable of producing no more than rust- but it's a strangely beautiful picture, this deserted Romanian landscape at dawn.'
Fear for my wallet was at the forefront of my mind as I arrived at Bucherest, the Romanian capital. Perhaps I sound harsh in my writing that day, but I felt as if everyone had his or her eyes on the wealthy foreigner.
'The number of bums, low-lifes and hustlers here is quite extraordainary. All the men wear black leather jackets as in 1980's American soaps- When I got off the train a man approached me offering a taxi, to which I said no. He then offered a hotel room (no), a bus to Istanbul (no) and then told me that I had to buy a compulsory reservation ticket for the train I was to catch (despite the fact that I already had one). His final attempt to rid me of what little money I had left was to offer me a fantastic tour of Bucharest - I passed on that. It's a strange station, very busy but not a train in sight. Members of a bizarre self-styled police force stand in twos at the entrance to each platform. Black nylon hats, black jackets and cheap pressed-foil badges proclaim their power. All they do is check that you are getting on the right train, despite their somewhat daunting appearance- Where will this nation be in fifty years? Will it be able to climb
...
See photographs from:
Bulgaria Gallery
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France Gallery
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Germany Gallery
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Hungary Gallery
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Italy Gallery
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Romania Gallery
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Turkey Gallery
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United Kingdom Gallery
