Not content with its contributions to the global banking crisis, Iceland decided to wreck havoc on Europe’s travelers by flooding the air with volcanic ash. I had the good fortune to be in Vilnius, Lithuania when travel was shut down and got to meet a wonderfully diverse set of people as I worked my way by train and bus (without any reservations) from Lithuania through Poland, the Czech Republic, Austria, Germany, France and Spain to Madrid and a flight home.
The red lines denote bus trips. The black lines denote train trips.
Vilnius
As my client in Vilnius, Nerius, walked me around his capital city, his pride in everything Lithuanian ranged from generally pleasant to exuberantly joyful at different times. The city’s location on the northern trade routes has been its strength and downfall. Strength because people travel through the city. Downfall because they often take it over. Sometimes it’s been part of its own Grand Duchy or country. Sometimes it’s been part of Poland or Germany or Russia or the Soviet Union. Often it’s been on the front lines between warring parties – particularly between Germany and Russia during WWII.
This has had a marked impact on its people. Its best people have had a hard time gaining traction. They’ve built 67 churches in Vilnius, some of which have spent much of their existences as warehouses. On the other hand, the Pope sent the crusaders to conquer them as pagans. Some of their parks are wonderfully located, but just starting to recover from decades of neglect. The Frank Zappa monument provides some good-natured comic relief and hints at the joy of the other side of the river, Uzupis, with its own constitution. On the other hand, there’s nothing joyful about the KGB museum.
Nerius had never been to the KGB museum though he knew the history of the Lithuanian partisans after World War II. The museum depicted what they did in pictures and memorabilia. It depicted what was done to them and other resisters of the Soviet state by its physical reality. The 3’ x 3’ greeting cells were striking. The interrogation cells, holding cells, exercise cages, and pockmarked execution chambers were frightening. But the water cells made the biggest impact on both of us. It was hard to imagine anyone trying to balance on a small platform surrounded by ice water resisting their interrogators for very long.
That history is the context for Nerius’ pride. He knows Lithuania is not all that it could have been with a different history. He also knows that history is the foundation for what Lithuania is and what it is becoming. He knows that history is the foundation for what he is and what he is becoming.
Nerius’ grand father was sent to Siberia, and came back. His father is a trauma doctor, fighting the powers that be to save lives. Sooner or later he is going to convince them to deploy a badly needed helicopter to help traffic accident victims. Nerius’ mother is a dentist. Nerious himself is a rising HR specialist who is going to grow in Lithuania if he can or in Europe or elsewhere if he can’t. One way or another he is going to succeed. He’s making good choices, mindful of the context and potential consequences to him and others.
We ended our day out at the Traku castle, former seat of the Grand Archduke. Wonderful location. Wonderful weather. Wonderful restoration. Wonderful Lithuanian snacks overlooking the lake, castle, and mansions. Wonderful day. It was time for an overnight bus to Warsaw and for my odyssey to begin.
Warsaw
I shared a compartment on the train from Warsaw to Wien with four people. Their only common language was English.
Monia from Poland and now living in Tampa, Florida is a tour/travel organizer. She shepherds groups around the world and was heading to meet her next group in Wien. Her approach is “good enough is enough”. She could work more days with more trips, but she’s happy earning enough money when she needs to, and spending it when she wants to travel on her own.
The man from Spain and now living and working in Wien, leads a bio-chemical think tank. It gets funded by universities, the government, and others to create new knowledge. He knows he could earn more doing something else, but the pleasure he gets helping young people learn how to learn is palpable.
One young lady from Austria and living in Austria, is studying for her masters in bio-chemistry. She’s along for the ride, letting things take her where they take her.
The fourth traveler, a young lady from Italy and living in Austria, is studying for her PhD in bio-chemistry. She understands the compromises she’s making. She complained (a little) about the divided double bed in her too small apartment and how the people in the office across the alley watch her when she eats breakfast in her kitchen.
It was wonderful watching the three bio-chemistry people interact with each other. While they spent part of the journey talking with the tour guide and me, they were clearly happiest thinking through bio-chem problems together.
Wien
I went across the street from the Wien train station to use the Internet at a hotel. The hotel clerk seemed particularly disinterested in his hotel, guests and walk-in customers. Not that he was unpleasant in any way. He just didn’t seem to care. He pointed me to the internet portal in the lobby, but warned me that it was expensive and unreliable.
The workers at the rail station were pleasant and orderly, but not particularly helpful. They were happy to let people queue (and there were a lot people queuing).
Munchen
Iberia’s ticket/information agent at the Munchen airport was a breath of fresh air at six o’clock in the morning. She seemed to be all about brightening the world one interaction at a time. I remarked that yesterday was surprisingly pleasant and that people seemed to be taking the crisis in stride and helping each other. “You weren’t here yesterday”, she said. And then they closed the airport.
The Munchen train station was different from the Wien station. Instead of a long queue they had people take a number and wait wherever they wanted until it was there turn. And they had an information officer who was directing people to the right place with a polite but firm clarity.
On the one hand, the ticket agent wasn’t able to help me since every train going anywhere useful was sold out for the next week. This was the low moment of the journey for me. No planes from Munchen and now no trains. On the other hand, the ticket agent did the best she could and armed me with some extremely helpful information.
Since trains weren’t panning out, I stopped by the bus station. The good news was there was a bus to Barcelona. Unfortunately the Munchen office was closed on Sundays and the bus didn’t stop there. But it did stop in Stuttgart.
I traveled first class from Munchen to Stuttgart. The people in first class wanted to read or sleep. The party was in second class. Didn’t make that mistake again.
Stuttgart
The bus ticket agent in Stuttgart explained that all their busses were full. But he did give a schedule of trains that would get me to Barcelona (if I could get on them).
A couple on the train from Stuttgart were graphic designers on their way from Portland, Oregon to Basel for a river cruise. They had stopped off in Stuttgart to visit the Porche and Mercedes-Benz museums. They met because they each had a Porche. They shared each others’ passion – and were continuing to fuel and share each others’ passion. It was wonderful to see.
Strassbourg
I had a hard time figuring out which train I was supposed to get on in Strassbourg. A young lady on the platform saw my predicament and pointed me in the right direction with a pleasant grace that a brief highpoint of the journey.
Since there were no reservations to be had (on this or on any train going anywhere anyone really wanted to go to), I bought a ticket for the following week, got on the train and sat down in the café car. When the conductor came to get my ticket I explained that I was on the wrong train. “Not a problem” he said, taking my ticket and moving on.
Paris
Not everyone was as helpful as they could be. With the airlines grounded and everyone struggling to get on trains and busses, the rail workers in France went on strike. Hard to believe, but true. This turned out to be a stroke of good luck for me.
The rail workers in Espana realized they were losing business. So some of them got busses and went up to Paris to bring people down to the Espana trains. There were eight Spanish workers taking tickets for the busses. They rode with us down to Espana. Once we got to the border, they took their positions on the train. One was the conductor. One worked the snack bar. And so on. Had to admire their choice to bring the customers to them.
Spain
I sat next to Ulrich on the train. He is a gas storage engineer/project manager who seemed to live by the motto “Carpe Diem Together”. He had Carpe Diem written on his personal card and he lived it by meeting people all over the world and staying in touch with them. He described his eight visits to Japan over the years, several visits to Montana, travels across Europe and Africa. He seemed to know someone everywhere, most of which had visited him as many times as he’d visited them.
We traveled from the train station to the airport as a pack: Ulrich and two guys he’d met in Belgium plus Joanne and David from Toronto. David was heading to a trade show in Lisbon and was carrying his trade show booth. His wife, Joanne is an executive coach who came along for the ride and seemed completely relaxed about the delay since she wasn’t really sure she needed 5 days at a trade show in Lisbon anyway.
Madrid
The ticket agent did not put me on the wait-list for the direct flight to New York. She just gave me a boarding pass. I don’t know if it was the influence of the agent in Munchen, my One World status, or my good looks. Since I had neither slept in a bed, nor showered, nor shaved, nor changed my clothes since Thursday, it’s fair bet it wasn’t my good looks. Either way, I’m writing this from the plane home. You have no idea how nice it is to be able to write that.
Choices
It was a weekend of choices: wait or go; train, bus, car; destinations; routes. I was particularly interested in the way peoples’ choices over the weekend fit with their more general approach to life. For some, the weekend was just a continuation of their ongoing journey. For others it was a mildly frustrating distraction. And for the most fortunate, it was an opportunity to get a new insight into others or themselves.
George Bradt, April 20, 2010