From the winter of 1996 to the summer of 2001, I lived in Europe. Two work visas, one student visa and an endless amount of hours waiting, sitting, reading, sleeping, arguing, hiding and even plain ole watching was spent on trains crossing borders and countries. I miss train travel terribly, but feel lucky enough to have the reminder of their passing echo off these hills in Missoula.
When Jaime and I came up with this idea to both post photos and write about waiting on a train, I unearthed some old photographs which I have loosely identified. I truly wish I had photos of all of you who I spent hours with in between all this waiting. Here's a very small collection of a cross section of those six years.
It's dangerous at times, this box of photos. I often think of it as my own personal Pandora. Or in other words, I believe nostalgia is hope's more complicated sister. They both have their dark and light. They both can leave you lost in your own present life. Believe me, I know. Above all, be patient with your waiting.
A sweet man who hails from the town Fish, poetry.
(Ryba, Poland, 1997)
Dark soot in my handkerchief, Krakow will shadow my soul.
(Kielce to Krakow, Poland 1998)
They sound of thunderstorms mostly, trains through meadows or cobblestones.
(Bieszczady, South Eastern Poland, 1997)
Filled with so much youth, no stale taste of loneliness.
(Dirt Road Bus Stop, Spiez, Poland, 1999)
We jumped trains late one night, followed domed springed daffodils.
(Tatra Mountains, Poland 1999)
My brother, French Alps tracks, we skied like a TGV.
(Grenoble, France 2000)
There is beauty in missing a train, an unearthed stone.
(Orange, France, 2000)
We are all salt drying on the sea, smiling back.
(Italy, 2001)
One of my fondest-missed pastimes, waiting with the best.
(Ali Campbell, me, Brad & Ryan Campbell, Italy, 2001)
A new year in deep winter, it all begins somewhere.
(New Years Day, Bratislava, Slovakia, 1996)
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