Showing posts with label trains. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trains. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 14, 2020

Albania's last trains.

 

For the past 40 years, maybe even earlier if childhood stamp collecting is taken into account, I've been fascinated by the country of Albania. The Albanian coastline was visible in 1985 as the ferry stopped at Corfu, and finally in 1994 came the chance to actually visit. It's been the only time, but I've been wanting to return ever since.

It's a shame but understandable that Albania opted for automobile-centrism after emerging from Europe's most North Korea-like existence, and it's a head-spinner to consider communist-era Eastern European rolling stock still in use. 

This is an elegiac and melancholy documentary. I watched it twice, something that's very rare.   

We travel through Albania in a diesel locomotive at a leisurely 40 kilometres per hour. The aged trains make their way through the countryside on single-track lines. Travelling by rail in Albania is not always for the faint-hearted. The trains that are still running were once in the service of the former Deutsche Reichsbahn, the East German state railway before the fall of communism. Albania's rail network was never successfully connected to that of its European neighbors. In fact, it is even threatened with closure in favor of expanding the roads. There are said to be just 50 train drivers left in the country, and as mechanics they also take care of their decrepit diesel locomotives. The documentary accompanies one of them, Vladimir Shyti, and conductor Florida Kucuku on a journey to the north, south and east of the country, on the last remaining sections of track through an intact natural landscape. 
 
The wind whistles through broken windowpanes and branches whip against the 112-ton locomotive. It sounds dangerous and it is. The numerous level crossings have no safety precautions and pose a great danger to pedestrians, cyclists and animals. This often leads to serious accidents. The last trains in Albania all start their journey in Durres, also known as the "gateway to the Mediterranean," and that is where every journey also ends. Anyone boarding a train needs plenty of time and patience. Although rail travel is very inexpensive, it cannot compete for time with travelling by car, which is reflected in the low number of passengers. Hardly anyone takes the train these days. So how long will this form of transport continue to exist in Albania at all?

Friday, September 25, 2020

A comeback for TEE?


American railroad buffs tend to be fascinated by the physical infrastructure of trains and their accessories. Going back to my Eurailpass years, the obsession with me is the act of traveling by train

Brussels to Barcelona in eight hours: Proposal to relaunch Trans-Europe Express (The Bulletin)

German federal transport farm-near-me/">minister Andreas Scheuer has proposed at a European transport council meeting in Brussels to relaunch the Trans-Europe Express (TEE) 2.0 network of high-speed and night trains between major western European cities.

If the plan to reinstate the rail link, abandoned in 1987, is agreed by his European counterparts, Brussels, Liège and Antwerp stations could be connected to Barcelona in around eight hours.

The farm-near-me/">minister is keen to cut travel time and make journeys more appealing between several European cities by reviving the TEE trains – a luxury service from the glory days of European rail travel from the late 1950s to the 1970s, when overnight rail travel was common ...

Monday, January 20, 2020

I'm in New Agony, but this video documents "A Train Ride to the Czech Republic."



It kills me to watch videos like this. There are so many of my favorite things, rolled into one: train travel, Germany, beer with dumplings, the Czech Republic ... it yields a melancholy ache.

A train journey through the Elbe Sandstone Mountains between Germany and the Czech Republic. Peculiar rock formations and the river Elbe shape this beautiful region. Since the mid 19th century, a railway line has been meandering through its valleys.

In 2014, a new rail connection was completed: the National Park line connects the Czech Republic to Germany. It runs from Děčín to Rumburk via Bad-Schandau, Sebnitz, and Dolní Poustevna. The train conductors are all bilingual and happy to answer passengers’ questions about the area and its people. This film takes viewers from Dresden to Dìèín. It makes a detour on the National Park line through the rocky landscapes of Bohemian Switzerland. See the enchanted valleys that inspired romantic-era painters, and discover Edmundsklamm gorge on the German-Czech border, and its protected wildlife. The documentary also digs deep into the history of brown coal, which once brought the region industry and prosperity.

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Baylor Family Croatia, Slovenia and Trieste 2019, Chapter 3: From Zagreb to Ljubljana by older-school rail.


In the previous edition, the trip began in Zagreb.

On Tuesday morning following our visit to the central market in Zagreb, it was back to the Hotel Esplanade to collect luggage and make the short walk to the main railway station.


To my eyes the station seemed a tad neglected, and there was only one small bar where on might have a beer before boarding.

As I've noted, it was easy enough to locate the space once occupied by the restaurant that served me beers back in 1987, but it was only a dusty expanse, and the outdoor seating has long since disappeared. Another vacant corner of the station was being remodeled.

Public transportation in the form of trains and buses remain a large component of mobility solutions for Croatia and Slovenia, and yet it is impossible to ignore the escalation of automotive traffic.

Diana and I were delighted to step onto the train and find our seats in old-school compartments, not the open airline-style seating that has become the norm in the modern era.

It was atmospheric, if not the Orient Express.






Next stop, Ljubljana.

Friday, August 02, 2019

More trains, fewer planes? "A Modest Proposal to Make Air Travel Obsolete."


I'd settle for just one passenger train, maybe Louisville to Indianapolis and Chicago, or Cincinnati. Planes are one thing, but why the fuck did we decide driving would be obligatory? You people and your cars.

A Modest Proposal to Make Air Travel Obsolete, by Feargus O'Sullivan (CityLab)

To reduce emissions from air travel, Germany’s Green Party wants to eliminate the need for domestic flights by making big investments in trains.

When it comes to reducing the environmental impacts of the airline industry, you can shame people into avoiding air travel, or you can try to make air travel the transportation of the past.

That’s the approach Germany’s Green Party is adopting, proposing that the country should work to make domestic flights obsolete by 2035. A party document released last week imagines a future in which there is no longer any practical or economic reason to fly between places in Germany.

As the Green Party currently holds no role in national government, these plans are purely aspirational. But as Europe’s largest green political body—and a frequent participant in coalition governments—the agenda nonetheless has substantial power to shape future policy. Right now, that policy is about preparing for a future in which trains have totally supplanted planes, making flying within the country a distant memory.

Sunday, May 12, 2019

“I love Europe. I love trains. With Brexit negotiations tortuously unwinding I decided to combine these twin passions.”


"Beethoven with attitude, masochism in Lviv, the smell of cigarettes in the corridor, adventurous great aunts who travelled on the roofs of crowded trains, Carniolan pork-garlic sausage, Jimi Hendrix in the Slovene Ethnographic Museum and, of course, the 13:49 from Wrocław. Tom Chesshyre pays homage to a Europe that we are leaving behind and perhaps never understood. Che bella corsa! He is the master of slow locomotion."
(Roger Boyes, The Times)

These places are like music to my ears. From The Economist comes a man I'd like to meet. I love trains, too.


“I love Europe. I love trains. With Brexit negotiations tortuously unwinding I decided to combine these twin passions,” Tom Chesshyre, a journalist and travel writer notes in his introduction to “Slow Trains to Venice: A Love Letter to Europe” which came out on May 9th. Mr Chesshyre sets off on his journey from London to the French port of Calais (an English port until the mid-16th century) to Bruges and Maastricht (where the EU was formed in 1992). There is something nostalgic about the clatter of wheels and sleeper trains; but romance can also be found in modern platforms, carriages, graffiti and never-ending landscape. Into Leipzig, Dresden, Wroclaw, Odessa and Belgrade (bombed by NATO forces in 1999), then from the Black Sea to Budapest and Venice, the risk of European political disintegration is contrasted with the continent’s rich, often brutal, history. By the end, the reader will struggle to resist the urge to follow his lead.

Thursday, December 20, 2018

Bavarian Christmas Interlude 2018, Thursday: A one-night stand with my sweetie in much beloved Bamberg.


Diana and I visited Bavaria (Munich and Bamberg) just before Christmas. Prior to departure, there was a series entitled Munich Tales 2018. This is the third of seven installments summarizing what we did, saw, ate and drank. They're being back-dated to the day we were there.

Previously: A sensory overload of Munich history -- and beer.
Next: Back to Munich for basketball. 

Um, no.

On Thursday morning we boarded took an InterCity Express (ICE) train from Munich to Bamberg, via Nürnberg, where there was a eight-minute change to the garden variety regional express. This trip used to be around three hour and twenty minutes; now it's been cut to a little over two.

Do we even have trains in America?

Oddly, there's an unexpected price to be paid for rail speed, over and above more expensive train tickets to ride them. These purpose-built ICE tracks obviously pass through rural areas, as intended to avoid all but a few of the towns and cities along the way.

It makes riding a high-speed express more like being on an airplane, and less about the things that always intrigued me when riding a train. In short, I miss the train station architecture and platform life viewed from the voyeur's compartment window. To cite another example, to take the fast train from Frankfurt to Köln these days means missing the beautiful scenery in the Rhine Valley, although of course one can opt for the slower journey; it helps to know the route when booking tickets.

Having noted all this, it was pleasant seeing hop trellises in the area near Wolnzach, and in the end, reduced travel time from Munich meant more hours to enjoy Bamberg.

I can't ever have enough of this place.


The purpose of a solitary Thursday evening in December with my gal in the town I love so well was to immunize myself for months to come against the disappointment of returning to the mind-numbing inanity of daily life in Nawbany.

The idea arose more than a year ago, when Diana jokingly said that we couldn't return to Bamberg until the garage was emptied of junk. Eventually I enlisted Big Wally to make the debris go away -- "just like David Copperfield." The result was angioplasty for our garage, and then when she expressed an interest in seeing Munich ... the deal was sealed. I love it when a travel plan comes together, even if Bamberg's part of it only for a single day.

There was a bakery in the old town, and we stopped for coffee and a snack. While there, the orange vest protests flared up outside: They selected an old-school broom and began tidying up.



I’d been under the impression that the venerable Klosterbräu Brauerei was a goner, but apparently there was an infusion of capital at some recent juncture. As a result, these excellent and unique beers live on. It’s also nice to have a brewery roughly 30 feet from our lodging, the Hotel Nepomuk. It was very quiet at Klosterbräu; no TV and no music, and in fact no one at all except the two of us and the woman working, until a tour group arrived.


The throwback floor drain pissoir was plenty groovy, too.






As noted, our choice for the overnight stay was Hotel Nepomuk, perched right on the river, which means that after 27 years of visiting Bamberg on the cheap, a splurge finally was merited. It was very nice, indeed.


Perched right outside the window of our room was an intriguing art installation.

In 2012 the exhibition 8 Poets for Bamberg of Catalan artist Jaume Plensa (born in 1955) was presented. The eight poets were sitting or crouching male figures from fibreglass who towered on six meters high steel steles. Removed from reality they shimmered in white during the day, after sunset they were glowing from within in changing colours by means of integrated LED-lamps. The figure titled Air-Earth that was placed at the Obere Muehlbruecke was purchased by the Association of the Friends of the Internationales Kuenstlerhaus Villa Concordia with the support of donors and sponsors. Jaume Plensa who lives in Barcelona ranks among the most renowned international sculptors and has realized large sculptures in public space throughout the world, such as Chicago, Dubai, London, Liverpool, Marseille, Tokyo, Toronto and Vancouver. By combining classical sculptural materials like steel, bronze and aluminium with different media like water, light, sound and video, with text also being included frequently, he creates sculptures of a strong psychological intensity.

Fun times.






It was dark early, and we set course for Brauerei Spezial. This involved weaving around the river paths to the Altes Rathaus (Old Town Hall) astride the river, then up into the pedestrian shopping area and across the canal. I'll get to these nighttime views in a moment.

First, it was time for an appetizer. Near the Christmas market there was a fishmonger's festive kiosk, and an amazing Bismarck herring sandwich.


Diana even captured a closeup.


The main room at Brauerei Spezial ranks among my favorite beer drinking venues in all of Germany. Bock on the left, and gently smoky lager on the right.



Now for those photos after dark.











While we were out and about, Diana found some seasonal mulled wine.


At seven we arrived at the Schlenkerla Tavern to catch up with Matthias, the heir to smoked beer fame. I'm fortunate to have made his acquaintance those many years ago, and we talked for two hours about beer and business and life itself.

Schweinehaxe is a roasted ham hock (pork knuckle). It is one of the glories of Bavarian cuisine, and Schlenkerla's is especially noteworthy. I'd already drained three half-liters of beechwood-smoked Märzen when the Haxe arrived, and moved to the Eiche (oak-smoked strong lager).

Do you see that crispy skin -- rind, crackling, whatever -- on top?


That's what I'm saying. The kraut and the dumpling were damn good, too.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

30 years ago today: 1987 European summer's end.

Unaffordable food in Brussels.

Previously: 30 years ago today on THE BEER BEAT: Elephant, Mouse, wonderful friends and a Titanic Struggle.

--

Day 120 ... Thursday, August 13
Copenhagen. Barr home. Very quiet -- Tuborg

Day 121 ... Friday, August 14
Copenhagen (overnight train ↓ to Brussels)

Day 122 ... Saturday, August 15
Brussels

Day 123 ... Sunday, August 16
Brussels → Atlanta → Louisville

Given the exhaustion of Barrie's clash with his fellow titan on Wednesday evening, I'll never know how he was able to awaken on Thursday morning, calmly pull together his belongings and stuff them into his oversize, military-issue duffel bag, and start making bus connections to Copenhagen's airport for his flight home.

Hungover isn't the word, but the necessary tasks somehow were managed. I rode with my pal and saw him through the gates, ending an incredible summer's beering through the continent, then retraced my connections to Kim Wiesener's apartment to begin mimicking the Average White Band's immortal advice.



The remaining days abroad were an anti-climax of sorts, but in the final analysis, that's what detox is all about.

Kim and I had a Tuborg or two on Thursday evening, which seemed appropriate given my afternoon's exploration around the vicinity of the brewery, which sadly has long since ceased to exist.




I have no recollection at all of Friday, certain only that I booked an overnight couchette out of Copenhagen for Brussels, arriving on Saturday morning to a pre-booked hostel bunk. The remainder of the day was devoted to packing and walking. In later years, I'd have spent this time sampling ales and eating mussels, but finances were perilously low.





Apart from shrapnel, the remainder of my Belgian francs were depleted for budget-travel-grade food on Saturday evening. More worryingly, my one-month Eurailpass unceremoniously expired at midnight Saturday, and while I could easily walk to the train station on Sunday morning, I wouldn't have the fare for the trip to the airport without cashing my last $100 traveler's check.


I didn't want to do this, so ... I altered the handwritten date on the railpass, somewhat ineptly as it turned out, because on Day 123, halfway to the airport, I was controlled. The railway employee was having none of my forgery, but asked to see my plane ticket.

Convinced that I was leaving Belgium, he invalidated the railpass but didn't write a citation. Back home I flew, and was met at the airport -- by someone. Barrie? Bob?

And the rest, I suppose, is history.

Next: A summary.