It's Too Darn Hot
How physical temperature isn't what Cole Porter had in mind but it's true
I’m coming to the end of my great continental railway journey, and by 7pm I will have visited all of the countries planned. There have been some casualties in the last few days as heat (as in temperature) and cold (as in the illness) have laid waste to my body. The most sad of these is that I lost my hat to a train in Schleswig-Holstein, and my water bottle in the hotel in Bremen. How I have longed for both in the hellscape of weather over the past eight hours. The end is, however, in sight. I just hope the temperature plummets as predicted. In the mean time, have some unstructured random musings, because I’ve nothing else to do.
I have also now had the interview for which I was worried. Unfortunately my fears were realised in that the people are really nice and still unbelievably keen for me to work for them, despite the fact I have no industrial experience, but there’s still an imbalance between the maximum static friction of staying in Edinburgh and the draw of interesting and worthy employment. They may yet not offer me the job. Some soul searching is to happen in the next week or two.
I have learnt this holiday that I enjoy swimming, but am not good at it. I have always been a naturally unbuoyant person, much to the amazement of others. This is a problem when my stamina is not what it was. Maybe I should take it back up properly.
There is also a great joy I have discovered of seeing glimpses of life happening on station platforms. A great number of things happen around trains, from Brief Encounter-esque romances to children going off on long adventures, perhaps never to return. There are the people for whom this is their daily commute, and those for whom this is the first time they’ll travel outside their town. I have seen people tearfully waved off and received with open arms. It’s easy to forget when we pass through a city at high speed, or even stopping to visit, that this is a place where people live their lives like anyone else. The flashes of humanity which happen around you serve to remind that the world doesn’t stop existing when you stop being able to see it.
Travel is fine for spicy food, for meeting men, for visiting mosques, but sometimes you just need your own bed.
Murder on the Orient Express (2017)