There’s a unique sense of bustle and excitement when boarding a night sleeper train, especially in a foreign country. I know it’s mainly down to the cultural imaginings of Agatha Christie and the exploits of James Bond, but still, there’s a novel tingle of expectation.
My night train to Vienna left Krakow at 21.59 on the dot. My sole occupancy cabin was a 91-euro reservation/supplement and was good value as it saved a night’s hotel cost and ate up the miles to Vienna without my noticing.
Once settled into my cabin I get off, like almost everyone else, and stare up and down the platform as if expecting a sudden last minute message or some forgotten lover to rush up to me. Clearly I’ve been watching too many old black & white films.
I lock my cabin door just in case some murder mystery adventure happens before Vienna – but it doesn’t.