Friday 1 September & Saturday 2nd of September: GLORY DAYS AND A GLORIOUS DAY

On Friday, en route from München to Venezia, passing swollen rivers racing through dark green, mist-laced forests towards the dramatic Brenner Pass, we permaterraileans had a glimpse of the railways' dirty but romantic past. 

We were stopped at Jenbach Bahnhof, adjacent to the headquarters of the Achenseebahn. They turned 128 this year; these days the steam train association's schedule runs from around the end of April to the end of October. Our timely arrival here was perfect to encounter two lovingly restored vehicles in operation.

The first tootled by us, towing pretty red and white wooden carriages.

We on the EC (Eurocity) dutifully exchanged waves with the passengers visible in the airy space behind the large-array windows and felt slightly envious - as you do upon witnessing such a special train occasion.

You can see a montage of some Achenseebahn action here:

And then another engine chuntered in, in the opposite direction to us. We cast leery gazes at the massive plume of brown smoke billowing from its stack into the water-laden air. Atmospheric.

Also atmospheric, fierce electric storms hit Friuli province in the evenings of both these days, lightning blanketing the darkened sky before rain pelted down to freshen the heavens. The skylight glass of the grand Royal Hall of Trieste's 1878 Neo-Renaissance railway station could not avoid a wash.

Trains have been running to and from the port city since the late 1850s, and according to Wikipedia, there are currently about six million rail passenger movements per year. Gone are the incredibly prosperous days of several fallen empires, but relics from that period are still holding up ok...

Detail: Trieste Centrale railway station Royal Hall

Detail: Trieste Centrale railway station Royal Hall

 

Serbian Orthodox Church of Saint Spyridon Thaumaturge

 capacity 1600 people, consecrated 1869, completed 1885

Carved bodiless selfie in demon hat and whiskers, central Trieste

Instead of selling books in a shoulder-season, slightly empty, city, I catch up with Tamara, an art and tourism-trained friend, who expertly tours me round, and later introduces me to the woman who administers community project AnDanDes Associazione Culturale (a prospective spring performance venue), in a garden beneath San Giusto cathedral. 

It's a perfect, sunny day, with a light, warm wind coming off the sea. We sip coffee beside the canal then promenade down the Molo Audace pier to sit by clear blue water and absorb the hill-encircled splendour. Waterfront showcase buildings sit on decades-ago reclaimed land along the main road, and cluster around the Piazza Unità d'Italia, which my friend in Berlin, Karla, known as the musician Stereochemistry, says has "one of the most fabulous city sea views ever".  I blow a kiss out across the waves for her.

At the end of the glorious day, on the tail end of the tempest (sheltered from in a convenient restaurant at dinner time), I board a train back up to Udine. More old friends to catch up with, and another chance to provide the now ever-present climate-change coloniser tiger mosquitoes in their garden another glorious feast.