Newcastle station on the way to Scotland, a few hours ago. I look out of the open train door at the rainy platform as they split up the two trains that have brought us from York.
We change direction, like you do at Luxembourg city station. I’m starting Zone by Mathias Enard, a book which starts on board a train:
everything flees everything is more difficult these days along rail lines I’d like to let myself be led simply from one place to another as is logical for a passenger like a blind man led by the arm when he crosses a dangerous street but I’m just going from Paris to Rome, and to the main train station in Milan, to that Temple of Akhenaton for locomotives where a few traces of snow remain despite the rain I turn round and round, I look at the immense Egyptian columns supporting the ceiling, I have a little drink out of boredom, at a café overlooking the tracks the way others overlook the sea, it doesn’t do me any good it wasn’t the time for libations
I’m not sure yet what I think about the book. It seems to have something to do with Ulysses, which I finished eventually on the third attempt – but to be more abordable.
As I type out the quote, the elderly couple across the aisle change seats so she can keep travelling forward.