This content is protected against AI scraping.
And so begins another Weasel adventure; this year a return to Italy. And, while our usual visit to Naples is included, we will also be spending time in Milan and Bologna. This morning, I started the long journey south.
Train 1: Vagnhärad to Norrköping
Normally I start my train trips south at Södertälje Syd but for reasons known only to SJ, this Sunday I had to join at Norrköping. While not really a problem, it does create an extra level of frustration, given the unreliability of our trains because of the single track issue.
Still, there is no point in worrying about things you have no power to change so I sat back and read about fungi.
And the trip was completely uneventuful and the train actually arrived on time which, while lovely, meant an extra wait at Norrköping because my train to Malmo was delayed. Which was fine. I just sat and waited.
The day was lovely and a delight to be outside.
Train 2: Norrköping to Malmö
Once again, I was lucky enough to reserve a single seat (13 in coach 1) and I settled down with a coffe and an apple for the three and half hour fast train journey.
Again, nothing much happened although there was one moment of crazy action.
A woman sitting across and in front of me was typing away at something on her laptop, completely oblivious to the world, a serious look on her face. She absently reached down and took out a bottle of fizzy water from her bag and opened it, not taking her eyes off her screen. As she screwed the lid off, the water exploded out, covering both her and her laptop.
Suddenly, serviettes began to rain down upon her. She was surprised and delighted in equal measure. A young fellow sitting opposite her even went to the coffee corner and grabbed her a handful more. While I think she would have preferred not to have been fizzed all over, she was glad there were so many helpful people surrounding her.
I should add that none of them knew her. She got off at a completely different station.
And so, we gradually pulled in to Malmö station.
At the door, waiting impatiently for our arrival, his knuckles white from gripping his bag, was one fellow who was swearing under his breath, his frustration at the late running train pretty obvious. The rest of us, standing patiently behind him, remained sensibly silent, looking everywhere but at him, as he cursed the train company and whatever personal god or gods he worshipped.
As soon as the door opened, prompted by his insistent stabbing of the button, he was off and running. I have no idea what he was late for but hope, for anyone else he might meet, he made his connection.
Train 3: Malmö to Copenhagen
Something I really like about being a seasoned train traveller is knowing which platform to go to, where it is, and knowing where to stand.
Of course, nothing prepares you for when one of your rubber bands snaps on your braces. Fortunately, I had spares and quickly attached a new one before anything disasterous occured.
And so, across The Bridge and into Copenhagen I went, arriving at central at about 16:00, where the central court is being completely rebuilt. It was well on its way when I went to Toulouse and it seems to have had some more work done but it is going to take some more considerable time before anyone can actually visit a concession.
I knew exactly where my hotel was (not the usual Good Morning Star because the rates were astronomical when I originally booked but a small hostel across the road) and was soon dumping my stuff, lying down for a bit then off for a bit of a wander around Copenhagen.
I didn’t feel like eating much so I popped into the Tivoli food hall and had an egg and shrimp Smørrebrød and apple juice before returning to my hotel for the night. I have an early start tomorrow ahead of a long trip to Frankfurt.
