01 — Amara Osei
Twelve Hours to Trieste
What you notice when the fastest option is off the table.
The night train out of Vienna leaves from platform nine at 21:27, and for the first twenty minutes nobody speaks. There is a particular etiquette to a sleeper carriage — a choreography of who unpacks first, who takes the top bunk without being asked, who offers around the paprika crisps.
A sleeper train is the only form of transport that gives you back more time than it takes.
By Villach the carriage has settled into its rhythm. The attendant knocks twice, takes breakfast orders on paper cards, and disappears down the corridor swaying like a sailor.
