Starlight Express

"The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are.”~ Samuel Johnson

March 2, 2013--Dresden

I didn’t hear my alarm the first time it went off at 4:45. I must have snoozed it in my sleep, because when it blared at 4:50, it startled me. Not wanting to be late, I got up right away. My laundry was mostly dry and I threw on a sweater and a pair of jeans. I debated which jacket to take and considered turning on my laptop to check the weather. I decided to just wear my fleece, hoping it would be warm enough. Grabbing my passport and my money, I headed out.

On my way out of the dorm, I grabbed two granola bars: one plain, and one chocolate banana. I ate them in lobby while I waited for the others.

In the lobby, I ran into my roommate Ante and his friend at the vending machines. They were just getting back from the pubs. I chatted with them for a bit and then sat at the bench eating my granola bars. Thibaut came out with his roommate who introduced himself as Leo. A few seconds later, we were joined by his second roommate.

“I’m Zach,” I said.

“Call me Lee,” he said.

A little after 5:15, Lad’ka came to the door. It was locked, so we went outside to meet her.  When I stepped outside, I noticed for the first time how dark it was. I guess I hadn’t expected it to be real bright out at 5:15am, but I hadn’t thought it would still be the middle of the night.

 “Did you sleep fast?” I asked Lad’ka as we started to walk to the tram.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “I slept very slow. I look at the clock every hour to see how much more sleep I have left.”

“You are Lad’ka?” Thibaut said. I realized I had been rude in not introducing her.

“Yes,” she said. Leo and Lee also introduced themselves. “Everyone has passport?” she asked.

“I don’t,” Lee said. “Do I need it?”

“No you don’t need it for Germany,” Thibaut said.

“Yes, you should take it,” Lad’ka said.

“If we have any issues, you might want to have it,” I pointed out.

“Really?” Thibaut said. “I can just say I am from France and show citizenship card.”

Lee ran back to the room to get his passport. “Hurry,” Lad’ka said. “The tram is in 10 minutes and if we miss it, there is no other one for twenty minutes.”

As we waited, I looked around the darkness of the courtyard. As my gaze shifted skyward, I saw something that made me smile: The Big Dipper. It was the first time I’d seen stars since I’d gotten to Europe. The other nights had all been cloudy and overcast. I smiled realizing that the sky looked the same. These were the same stars I’d looked at a million times before. I’d identified them while camping in the woods, and looked at them out of pure joy when walking around town back home.

When Lee came back a few short minutes later, we walked over to the tram. As we waited for the 9 to come, I asked, “Did you guys check what the weather is supposed to be like today in Dresden?”

“I think it is supposed to be between one and three degrees,” Thibaut said.

“One and three?” I said, realizing I’d picked the wrong jacket.

“Yes,” he said. “But that’s Celsius. I’m not sure what it is Fahrenheit.”

I had a converter on my iPod but I didn’t’ want to dig it out of my pocket. I figured 1-3 degrees was cold regardless of what system you used.

“Zach, you do not have a bag?” Thibaut noticed.

“No, I’m trying to travel light. I have my money, my camera, and my passport,” I said as I pointing to the pockets that housed each item. That was when I noticed that Lee and Leo each had back packs, Thibaut had a small satchel, and Lad’ka had her purse.

We caught the 9 when it came. It felt good to get out of the cold, but that was when I realized that the day ahead of me would probably be a chilly one. We rode the tram to the central train station, and hopped off.

“How long have you been in Prague?” Leo asked me as we walked into the station.

“I left home on the 8^th and got here on the 9^th,” I said.

“Oh,” he replied. “How long was your flight?”

I thought about it for a minute. “The flight to London was about seven hours, then I was there for five hours, and the flight to Prague was, like, three hours…I think.” I said. “So, like, nine or ten hours in the air, but on the road for about fifteen hours…I think.” It suddenly felt like a long time ago. Looking at Lad’ka I said, “but I’ve been here for three weeks and they haven’t kicked me out yet!”

 “No, not yet,” she laughed.

“Aw man!” Leo said. “Were you so jet lagged when you got here?”

I laughed. “Yes! I was. For two weeks I was tired all the time. It would feel like it should be morning when it wasn’t and I’d wake up in the middle of the night. It was so rough.”

As we walked into the station, I realized I’d been here a few times with Ivana. It looked more like a mall than a train station though. Lad’ka led us to the back, through the sliding glass doors, and into the ticket office.

At the counter, Lad’ka spoke in Czech with the woman behind the desk. They were clearly arguing about something and it didn’t seem to be going well. We all watched and exchanged nervous smiles.

“Ok,” Lad’ka said, turning suddenly towards us. “Is 850 crowns.”

That was more than we had expected, but still only $45 USD. After we’d paid, Lad’ka explained that to get the discount you had to book online. Here, six tickets were a group. The woman was kind though and had showed us that it was 30 crowns cheaper if we bought a sixth ticket (split the cost between the group) than if we only purchased five full fare tickets.

After we bought our tickets, we went back out through the glass sliding doors of the ticket office, and up the escalator to the waiting area. There were restaurants around and Lad’ka suggested we get something to eat. Despite having the two granola bars in the lobby, I agreed with her.

We went in a little café that was sort of Starbucks-esque. There were pastries in a glass case, and a barista making drinks behind the counter. There was a large machine that was automatically slicing and juicing oranges. Many of the pastries and treats appeared to contain parts of oranges (either the fruit, the peel, or the juice) as one or two of the main ingredients.

I ordered a Vienna hot chocolate to drink, and an orange yogurt to eat. The hot chocolate was definitely one of the best that I have had. It had various layers of different flavors of foam in it, and was smooth and rich. I initially couldn’t find a lid for it, and looked like a bit of a foolish tourist stumbling around through the line to get to them. After trying a few that were too small and smearing whipped cream all over my hand, I got the right size and rejoined the group.

“Where are you guys from?” I asked to clarify.

“Singapore,” Lee said.

“Hong Kong,” Leo said.

“Very cool,” I said and told them where I was from. “Are you both third years?” They exchanged glances. “At the university,” I clarified. “Is this your third year.”

“We follow the US system,” they said.

“Oh, so Juniors then?” I said.

“Yea,” they said. When they asked about me, I admitted my youth.

The orange yogurt was good. There were tiny chunks of orange on the top, with a layer of yellow, orange flavored yogurt below. That was followed by a layer of vanilla yogurt, on top of more slices of orange that were in kind of a jello-like preservative. It was very sweet and tasty. Leo and Lee ate scones, with Leo taking the regular flavored and Lee eating a chocolate one.

We were all a little tired and conversation lagged. As we finished eating, we asked Lad’ka where to go. “Nowhere,” she said.

I was confused. “Nowhere?”

She smiled and shook her head. I accepted that and waited watching my watch. As our 6:31 departure time ticked closer and closer I began getting antsy. “What time do we board?” I asked.

“We don’t have platform yet,” Lad’ka said, pointing at the screen she was standing under. We all walked around, and she showed us how to read it. It was much like a boarding sign at an airport, indicating where it departed from, and where it ended up at, along with the time of departure, and the platform for boarding.

As we were staring at it, platform 5 popped up for our train. We threw away our trash and headed out. Several of the lights in the hallway were out and parts of the floor were torn away and covered with boards. It was clearly under construction, but lacked the warning signs that would have surrounded an American construction zone.

We found the escalator leading up and out to platform 5 and rode up it. As we came to the surface, a beautiful sight burst into view overhead: a brilliant pink and blue sunrise.

“Oh my God,” I said, staring at it. “That’s the first time I’ve seen the sunrise since I got here.” Not that I get up early enough to see the sunrise back home with much frequency, but it was the brightest blue sky I’d seen in three weeks.

“I know, right?” Leo said. “It’s never sunny here.”

“I come from a state with 300 days of sunshine,” I said.

“Three-hundred days?” Lee asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I miss it.”

As we waited for the train, we snapped photos and made jokes about tourists.  I relayed one story saying, “I honestly heard a group of American tourists the other day say, ‘I love how European everything is here.’” We all laughed.

When the train came, it was like something out of a Harry Potter movie. Granted, the engine itself was diesel engine and looked like any that could be seen in the US (minus the “Union Pacific” logo that is) but the coaches inside were just like I’d imagined them. They were divided out into cabins, with six seats in each cabin. On each side, three padded blue chairs faced each other with storage racks overhead for bags and coats.

Lee and Leo sat on one side of the cabin, and Thibaut, Lad’ka, and I sat on the other. Lad’ka and Lee took the window seats, and Thibaut sat closest to the door. We all removed our jackets and they stowed their bags.

“I hate to say it,” I said, “but I feel very European getting on the train.” They laughed at me a bit and we made more jokes about tourists.

Within minutes of pulling out of the station, the five of them were all asleep. I stayed awake to watch the sunrise, taking in every second of the glorious light. I stared at it so intently, that I started to see spots and realized I needed to stop.

I tried taking photos as we rode along, but the train was moving too fast to capture any of quality. There were small towns with houses that would have been considered shacks back home. Even the homes that looked more familiar in size had out houses behind the home. There were other areas with impressive architecture built entirely from rocks. Some of the stone churches looked just as decorative in their own way as the National Cathedral. In between tiny settlements, the landscape was impressive. In sticking with a movie analogy, I’d say it was like the mountains from the Narnia films: jagged cliffs covered in snow and pine trees, and open meadows that stretched farther than the eye could see. I was struck by the thought that this area—the farm land, the mountains, all of it—was the Sudetenland that Hitler had so coveted.

As we rode along, the air outside soon became quite foggy. Clouds began to hide the blue sky and within minutes, the brilliant sunlight had been reduced to the grey haze that I’d become accustom to.

Our tickets were checked twice: once by a Czech conductor, and once when we crossed the border by a German one. Both times, Lad’ka woke up and produced them from her bag. They were stapled together and in a blue envelope. They didn’t ask for our passports. In fact, the only person they spoke to was Lad’ka.

The ride was about two hours. Our stop was the second one in Dresden, and when we arrived, we all barreled out. I was the last to leave the cabin, and, like a good American tourist, I took a few photos of the coach before getting off.