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Railway lines turn from grey to white as they head far into the distance; unstoppable they cut through fields and mountains, carving up this strangest of countries, where men and women still work in the fields and the ghost of their former dictator and father, roams the towns and villages. I feel happier than I have ever felt before. We can go anywhere; we are free from our past, our traditions and our families.
The train one carriage and an engine had stopped at a station during the night whilst we were asleep and lay motionless in the morning sun.
We peered out of the window, not bothering to cover our nakedness, and recognised two of the train guards, standing on the platform smoking. There was no noise from the rest of the train. Better get dressed. We quickly got dressed and hurried off the train into the heat; a couple of old women on a bench watched us as we walked away from the station and headed into the town to find somewhere to stay, both of us with rucksacks on our bags, sweating from our exertions of earlier and the flat sun above our heads.
All around the town were large mountains with snow at the top, a barrier to any further travels. Perhaps we should stay for a few days. And she hurried ahead to find a hotel, whilst I struggled to keep up. There was a kettle in our room, so I made myself a coffee, using some of the instant we had bought in Berlin, and which we were almost out of. Fortunately, we had rationed it at my suggestion. There was no milk, but I was getting a taste for it black, and I savoured it as I looked out of the window at the townspeople going about their business.
