Looking out the train window, we marveled at the complete l and use of the tidy Swiss farms. Row upon row of plantings made the sloped ground look like it had been draped with a patchwork quilt made of corduroy materials.
We enjoy train travel and find it a wonderful way to see Europe. We can nibble on picnic goodies, read, do some journaling, take our shoes off and just watch the scenery slipping by. Terry does our route planning, buys the tickets on the days we are not using our Eurail Pass and organizes train schedules and stopovers.
Our train wound its way through the valleys stopping for only a minute or two at little villages along the way. There was not an on-board schedule posted, as with some trains, and Terry had only the expected time of arrival β¦ which had been written out in an itinerary format supplied to him by an information officer. We had a while yet, about fifteen minutes, before the time of our stop: Martigny.
Terry started repacking the day bag with various items we had out during our journey, and Sherrie was shutting down her laptop after some journaling β¦ but no hurry β¦ there was plenty of time for Terry to get his shoes on and for Sherrie to go to the bathroom before Martigny. Our train pulled into another small village station. Terry glanced up and saw the sign: Martigny. Our first response was panic. We grabbed back packs plus scattered items not yet gathered up and jumped down to the station platform.
Chancing another few seconds, Terry ran back on board to collect the left-overs and exited just as all doors closed automatically.
