Jenny Block: Eurail Press Trip

Eurail Gala Speech
Jenny Block
June 17, 2009

When I was seventeen, I fantasized about running away to Europe. I wanted to visit the castles, sit in the cafes, see the art, roam the streets, experience all the things I was missing in the small East Coast town where I lived in the United States. I have always had a severe case of wanderlust. My friends and I would sit up late at night, swapping stories about all the things we would do one day. Mine was always the same. I would pack my things in glamorous, matching suitcases, buy a Eurail Pass, and see it all. Paris, Dublin, Lisbon, Athens, Bern, Brussels, Rome, Prague, Budapest. An endless number of cities in twenty-one countries all across Europe.

I never took that magical trip. I went off to college, got a job, started a family. I imagined my time had passed. Eurail’s for kids I figured. College students. Dreamers. People with nothing but time on their hands and packs on their backs. I began to imagine instead that it would be my daughter who would take that Eurail journey instead. Me living vicariously, following her twitters, her Facebook updates, and her emails and blogs. And then I got a phone call.

“Come Eurail with us,” the voice said. “It’s been fifty years since we’ve connected people with the rails. And we want to celebrate.” Her Dutch accent was as enticing as her offer. “But isn’t that stuff for kids?” I asked her. “Yes,” she said. “And for families and couples and singles. Travelers in their 20’s or 40’s or 60’s or 80’s. If you can get on board, you can Eurail.”
How could I refuse?

When I arrived in Amsterdam, Brigitta handed me my pass. I felt like a movie star. Matching luggage, Europe at my feet, and a ticket to ride. It was just like I had imagined it. Our first adventure on the train was a short one. Very short in fact when an electrical storm knocked out the power leaving us no choice but to leave the train I had waited so long to ride.
My heart sank. I was already in love with the seemingly endless rows of seats, the sway of the car, the rattling of the trains along the tracks as we traveled from Prague to Karlstejn Castle. I was so excited to show the conductor my pass. I waited anxiously as he looked over it and then back at me and then back at the pass once again.

I wondered if he had ever seen a Eurail Pass as this was the first year the Czech republic was accepting it.

“Isn’t it exciting?” I wanted to ask him. “Isn’t it wonderful that you can use the Eurail Pass all across the Czech Republic now too. But I knew there was no way he would be as excited as I was. No way.
My second trip with my Eurail Pass was far more what I had in mind. We waited at the Prague railway station, positioning ourselves at the end of the platform where we had been told the First Class cars would be. In minutes the train came rolling into the station. Only…the First Class car was all the way at the other end. So we raced down the platform laughing at our error.

Out of breath but delighted to finally be in the right place we located our compartments just at the whistle blew and the train moved toward our destination – Karlovy Vary.

There were six seats, a sliding door, and a giant picture window that slid open from the top. With just two people per compartment we were able to lay flat the chairs and make beds for ourselves where we quickly settled in.
When the conductor came by a short time later to collect the tickets, I once again proudly presented by Eurail Pass. “Isn’t it exciting?” I once again felt inspired to ask. “Isn’t it wonderful that you can use the Eurail Pass all across the Czech Republic now too. But I knew there was no way he would be as excited as I was. No way. So I simply smiled and thanked him as he stamped the pass and returned it to me so I could store it safely away for my next excursion.

Of course, it was my third trip that was the most exciting. We were headed from Prague to Budapest on the night train on which we would enjoy private sleeper cars all our own.

I was absolutely giddy waiting for the train to arrive. My eyes lit up like a small child’s when I saw the sign on the outside of the car that read “Sleeper Car.” The conductor lifted my bags and offered me a hand so I could climb aboard. Then he walked me to my compartment.

“Your car, madam,” he said. I examined the small space with as much joy as if I had just arrived at the Taj Majal. Despite all the things I have seen and done, there is still something so wonderful about doing something – anything really – for the first time. I checked out the sink and the bed and the “room service” menu. I tucked my luggage away behind the curtain and I lifted the blind so I could watch the night sky go by. The conductor requested my ticket and smiled at me with what I felt sure was a knowing look. “Ah,” I imaged that glance said, “A Eurail Pass holder. Lucky girl.” Indeed.

Because one of our colleagues was unable to join us, we had an extra sleeper car that we used as our living room. I think the conductor believed us mad. We talked and toasted until the hour had become to late to stay awake any longer.

I slept soundly that night and woke to the sound of the conductor’s knocking at my door to alert me of our imminent arrival and to bring me tea and cake. I could get used to this, I thought.

My most recent ride was just a day ago as I traveled from Lake Balaton back to Budapest. It was a simple train. Nothing new or shiny. But I enjoyed sitting amongst so many different people aboard that train.

Brigitta was right. Everyone was there. Young and old. Rich and not. Locals and tourists. Black dress clad women in red stilettos and handsome men with dreadlocks and guitars swung across their backs. I feel like I am now a member of a special club, a secret society, a community of travelers of which now I was a pass-carrying member. When Eurail began fifty years ago only 13 countries were a part of the group. But today, with the newest member – the Czech Republic, they now have 21. Twenty-one countries that Eurail can take anyone to or from. All you need is a map, a timetable, and a ticket to ride.
I was romanced by the train just as I knew I would be. Eurail was like my leading man, sweeping me off my feet, offering me Europe with just the simplest of papers. It might look like a form of any kind to the untrained eye, a ticket or pass or any old form. But it isn’t. It’s a magic ticket, the golden ticket, the doorway to ll the places that a soul dreams of. It’s a Eurail Pass. My Eurail Pass and it is the only way to go.

Ms. Jenny Bradner (writes under Jenny Block)
Freelance

website:  www.jennyonthepage.com

Articles appeared in:
American Way, Dallas Morning News, D Magazine, Dallas Voice, Tango, BeE, Where, D Home, Cosmopolitan (Germany), Spirit, Pointe, Virginia Living, Style Weekly, Richmond Magazine, Stone Magazine