Train Rides

I used to love trains and train rides. It was always an enchanting experience to ride the train. All kinds of Turkish writers, poets and even dramatists would use the train as a setting or a symbol to explore the depths of human emotions and imagination. Some of my favorite stories such as Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants" are set in trains and or train stations.

I wish I could have continued to culminate such love for trains. I hadn't taken the train to anywhere in United States before I made my move to Wisconsin. Well, that was such a huge experience and probably one of the most difficult days of my life. Ever since then I've had the chance to take the train often hauling one thing or the other from Madison to Rochester. While it was quite enjoyable the first few times (despite it's difficulties), I found quite a few muses in trains to inspire me to write a few stories, at least enough to make a collection out of it, I am sure. Unfortunately, our mutually exclusive and loving relationship has been demanding and waned over the years. Taking the train has become a chore and an unwanted thing for me. It's long, enduring, uncomfortable and the attendants, never understanding or caring. They literally just do what they want to do. They don't care about customer satisfaction. Customer service isn't one of their qualities. It's their cheap price, explaining exactly why I continue to and will continue to take the train. Oh and the limitless number of stuff my mother buys me that de facto disables me from taking the plane.

Train rides now leave me exhausted, desperate and tries my patience. Keeps me all night and leaves me sleepless in the morning, in which I must endure through the second part of my traveling, becoming quite inefficient and a hassle.

I dream of the day where I no longer have to take train to go back to Rochester to visit family and friends.