In this case, for a September on the rails, the first Permaterrailean tour cogs have been turning since spring. And yet, despite
Food and water in a long-straps cotton shoulder bag.
Mostly personal items in a backpack with extra capacity for waiting-for-assembly books.
More personal items - the must-be-at-hand treasures - in a satchel.
Most book-making equipment and books in a small Rollkoffer (rolling suitcase) that converts into a backpack, ready for a weekend day book-making in Trieste.
The woman at the tram stop at 03:57 (BVG service on time), going to Tegal airport, has one bag.
The guy at the Berlin Hauptbahnhof Deutsche Bahn info counter unpacks his baggage and insinuates I haven't correctly pronounced 'U'. He's got an 'Ü' in his system. His two colleagues know he's being a dork. I'd told him "U for Ulrike". Twice. He obviously can't speak Italian (placenames).
Finally I get my Berlin-München-Venezia Mestre-Udine transfers printout and further descend the battery of long concourses and inconveniently placed escalators to reach the underground platform as the sleek, silver, chilly as ever ICE slides in.
Some people have more luggage than me.
Oh trains, how we paraphernaliaed permaterraileans love you, let us count the ways...
It's 04:27, time to get out of this town.
And so we go.
