The 1:29 pm train from Frankfurt to Amsterdam pulled out from the main station at precisely 1:29 pm. If any country runs a train system better than Germany and Switzerland, I have yet to discover it. The trains are always clean and quiet, and the restaurant car serves amazingly good food. First class isn’t a ridiculous surcharge and is well worth the leather seats, ample legroom, free newspaper, coffee and snacks and an attendant for each car.
One particularly satisfying part of the German rail service occurs when you purchase a ticket. Tellers make it a point of honor to never charge full fare, and the search for a discount is entertainment itself. Frequent traveler card? No. Student? No. Over 60? No. Handicapped? Not physically.
After a few more moments of scowling at the computer screen, the teller’s face suddenly brightened and she informed me that the tracks were under repair near Amersfoort, and the requisite train change would cause me a degree of inconvenience. As a result, she was authorized to give me a discount. With her honor retained, and my wallet less violated, I walked away with my ticket.
Train travel triggers introspection as the pastures, mountains and small burgs pass by the window. For me, these are times when I become glorious aware that I am in Europe! I climbed on the train in Frankfurt, Germany and I will step off in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. Wow. I have been fortunate to travel internationally my entire life, but these moments of epiphany remain super-charged, and I will never, ever take them for granted.
The train stopped for a moment, and I looked up from my book to see the Gothic magnificence of Cologne’s cathedral filling my window. As I said, super-charged.




