This was first written on 1st October, 2013
I arrived at the Dresden Hauptbahnhof (main train station) fairly early and loitered around with a cup of hot chocolate. Downing the remnants of the contents of my cup, I dragged myself and the trolley bag to the platform where I found the train taking a breather. Ahead of me was an American couple -- one was struggling with bags, the other trying to find a way to open the door. I stepped up to the front and pushed a button and let the woman board.
The train ride itself was largely uneventful save for the occasional guffaws of the American woman (they were seated diagonally across from me). However my mind was elsewhere: the train has to reach Nuremberg on time because I need to catch my connection to Stuttgart, that too with a window of just 9 minutes. But going by how this train was making its scheduled stops on time, I was becoming comfortable with the thought that there would be no reason for a delay.
But of course, things go wrong when you take the side of complacency. Towards the end of the journey, the train made an unusually long stop at a station which looked like it had been hastily put together to stall our progress. I cocked my head this way and that from my seat, hoping to determine the cause of the delay or at least find out the name of the station. The American couple was also getting agitated. From their conversation, I discovered that they were travelling on to Munich from Nuremberg. I was comforted by this new piece of information.
Minutes before its scheduled arrival in Nuremberg, the train made another stop, this time in the middle of nowhere. There was no way to determine where exactly we were because trees obstructed our view on both sides. At some point, the American couple gathered their bags and made for the exit. I did the same just as the other passengers around me, mostly Germans, put on their coats and took the few steps towards the door.
Then came an announcement in German, the contents of which I understood from gasps that escaped the lips of the women in front of me (and a check of the time on my phone). I had already by this time made out the German words for 'platform' and 'fifteen'. They repeated the same words, and I knew I definitely had company.
As the train slowed to a halt, the American couple, at the head of the line, had trouble with the door again (the fact that I had opened the door in front of them earlier did not help them register how things are done). Thankfully, someone behind them jabbed his/her finger into the button that opened the door. My fellow passengers and I hit the platform running, quite literally, with our bags. I ran down the stairs towards our designated platform as if my life depended on it, jumping two steps at a time on the stairway, and emerged on Platform 15 to find the train still standing. For reasons that escape me now, the first few seconds were characterised by sluggishness, a belief that I could take my time finding my coach. Thankfully I did not have to go far, because my coach was right next to the stairway. I climbed in, relieved, as were those puffing away ahead of me: 'we made it with barely seconds to spare!', one woman seemed to say.
I thought of Geet from Jab We Met and chuckled.
P/S In the event your connecting train leaves before you reach the station, go to the train information counter/sales office. The staff will issue you a ticket with the next available connection.
I arrived at the Dresden Hauptbahnhof (main train station) fairly early and loitered around with a cup of hot chocolate. Downing the remnants of the contents of my cup, I dragged myself and the trolley bag to the platform where I found the train taking a breather. Ahead of me was an American couple -- one was struggling with bags, the other trying to find a way to open the door. I stepped up to the front and pushed a button and let the woman board.
The train ride itself was largely uneventful save for the occasional guffaws of the American woman (they were seated diagonally across from me). However my mind was elsewhere: the train has to reach Nuremberg on time because I need to catch my connection to Stuttgart, that too with a window of just 9 minutes. But going by how this train was making its scheduled stops on time, I was becoming comfortable with the thought that there would be no reason for a delay.
But of course, things go wrong when you take the side of complacency. Towards the end of the journey, the train made an unusually long stop at a station which looked like it had been hastily put together to stall our progress. I cocked my head this way and that from my seat, hoping to determine the cause of the delay or at least find out the name of the station. The American couple was also getting agitated. From their conversation, I discovered that they were travelling on to Munich from Nuremberg. I was comforted by this new piece of information.
Minutes before its scheduled arrival in Nuremberg, the train made another stop, this time in the middle of nowhere. There was no way to determine where exactly we were because trees obstructed our view on both sides. At some point, the American couple gathered their bags and made for the exit. I did the same just as the other passengers around me, mostly Germans, put on their coats and took the few steps towards the door.
Then came an announcement in German, the contents of which I understood from gasps that escaped the lips of the women in front of me (and a check of the time on my phone). I had already by this time made out the German words for 'platform' and 'fifteen'. They repeated the same words, and I knew I definitely had company.
As the train slowed to a halt, the American couple, at the head of the line, had trouble with the door again (the fact that I had opened the door in front of them earlier did not help them register how things are done). Thankfully, someone behind them jabbed his/her finger into the button that opened the door. My fellow passengers and I hit the platform running, quite literally, with our bags. I ran down the stairs towards our designated platform as if my life depended on it, jumping two steps at a time on the stairway, and emerged on Platform 15 to find the train still standing. For reasons that escape me now, the first few seconds were characterised by sluggishness, a belief that I could take my time finding my coach. Thankfully I did not have to go far, because my coach was right next to the stairway. I climbed in, relieved, as were those puffing away ahead of me: 'we made it with barely seconds to spare!', one woman seemed to say.
I thought of Geet from Jab We Met and chuckled.
P/S In the event your connecting train leaves before you reach the station, go to the train information counter/sales office. The staff will issue you a ticket with the next available connection.
No comments:
Post a Comment