A Train Ride from Hell

I love trains. It is a very civilized means of transportation; no traffic jams, just beautiful scenery and the peaceful rhythm of the wheels turning on the tracks. I have many good memories from train travels through Europe, being of European origin myself. However, there is one train ride that leaves the impression of being from a different, dark world.

I was travelling with two good friends of mine. We were heading for Budapest, Hungary, to attend a week-long seminar. After having considered the different possibilities of getting there, we decided to take the train through what was then called the Eastern Block. It was during the cold war, and the wall had not yet fallen in Berlin. Starting in Gothenburg, Sweden, our itinerary read: Denmark, East Germany, Czechoslovakia, and finally Hungary. I envisioned it to be an interesting trip since I had never visited Czechoslovakia or Hungary before. The Eastern European countries were not common tourist destinations in the 1980s.

As soon as we entered into Eastern Europe, I got quite a shock. East German soldiers came into our compartment and shouted in German to see our passports and visas. They looked cold and unfriendly. Their uniforms were intimidating and their high, black leather boots shiny. They studied all our passports and visas scrupulously.

Before crossing the border into Czechoslovakia, the German soldiers came back. They brought in barking German shepherd dogs and searched through the compartment. They looked under the seats along the floor, behind the curtains and on the luggage racks above our heads. Apparently, they were looking for people trying to escape the country. The whole scene was frightening. I felt guilty, for no reason, as if I had committed a crime, and the soldiers were trying to prove it.

As soon as we had crossed the border to Czechoslovakia, the ritual was repeated, except now they were shouting at us in Czech. By the time we were going to exit Czechoslovakia, it was night and we were all sleeping. The soldiers showed no empathy. They knocked hard on the door of our compartment, turned on the light, and demanded our documentation. I remember sitting up in my cot, my heart pounding, trying to quickly recall where I had put my passport before going to bed. I found it and showed it to the soldiers. The left, but were soon followed by more soldiers with barking dogs. The dogs left and we switched off the light for the third time that night. We went back to sleep for what felt like two minutes, only to be woken up again by the Hungarian border patrol! By now, we were getting used to being treated with complete disrespect by the serious-looking, loud-speaking soldiers. The total travel time was 36 long hours.

Apart from the unpleasant experience with the soldiers, I was also shocked by the fact that the trains were so dirty. The floors were covered with sticky substances, which could have been spilled food or drinks. The toilets had an unbearable stench, and it was impossible to see through the mud-covered windows. These trains looked as if they had never been cleaned! It was with difficulty that we were able to ignore the dirt and consume our packed food.

Luckily, we spent a wonderful and enriching week in Budapest. People were friendly and hospitable. The seminar was perfectly planned and the accommodation at the hotel was excellent. My friends and I had a chance to recover from our horrible train ride before it was time to return home. We went through the same routine on the way home. However, things didn’t seem quite as bad when we were mentally prepared for the ordeal.

Despite my horrible experience, I continued to travel by train in Europe whenever possible. There were always interesting people to watch and befriend. I loved to see countries, cities, and cultures passing like scenes on a movie screen outside the window. Also, Europe changed a lot after the fall of the wall. Countries opened up. The soldiers and dogs at the borders disappeared. My train ride from hell will remain but a memory of the past.

Chlor O'Phyll

March 29, 2011 at 10:23 AM PDT

Good story. Too short. More details. A bit inhibited in your emotions.