Night Train to Rome

I have always been a train geek. While the other kids in Cresco (the odd name of my home town is attributed to an unknown 19th century typesetter whose misspelling in a railway timetable altered forever the course of history for the town of Fresco, Pennsylvania) played football or shot holes in road signs, I sat under the ruined roof of the disused railway station and imagined great steam trains rumbling in to my little town, impatient engines belching steam and smoke while tourists from New York and Philadelphia streamed from the carriages and into the resort cabs.

When Steamtown, USA moved its collection of historical trains from Bellows Falls, Vermont to Scranton and the town honoured their arrival with that most American monument - a shopping mall - I trespassed in the trainyard at night, clambering through ancient Pullmans and onto rusty tankers like some middle class teenaged hobo.  As an adult, it was mostly the joy of travelling by train that made my three hour commutes from Downingtown to New York bearable.

So when my friend Clive informed me that he and a friend were going Interrailing in February, I was jealous. The idea of travelling around Europe by train, bumping and clanking through the meadows and mountains of the Continent was so appealing that I got to thinking - why not do the same? After all, the kids are just about old enough to make long stretches of inactivity bearable, the rail network in Europe is reasonably well-run, if not entirely profitable, and there are many places I'd lik to see.

Clive suggested that I let the kids plan the trip. Caroline's keen, but Michael shows little interest apart from swiping around the rail map on the iPad. We spent a good part of last weekend working out an itinerary (Caroline's been an active participant throughout, although I must admit that I've done most of the deciding).

Our general plan is to take the Eurostar to Paris on the Thursday before Easter and an overnight train from Paris to Rome.  We'll spend Easter weekend in Rome (and hopefully meet up with our friends the Becks who are sailing their yacht Moxie around the world - if they can ever tear themselves away from the sun-drenched Mediterranean) and then dawdle our way for two weeks along the coast, heading in the general direction of Spain.  We'll stop at a few places along the way (Cinque Terre for sure, maybe Nice).  Our only real obligation is to get to Barcelona in time to catch another overnight train back to Paris and from there back to London, school and work.

I'm unreasonably excited about this trip.  My commutes (by train, of course) these days are spent reading travel books about Provence and the Ligurian Coast, and squinting at endless columns of 6 point Times New Roman in the European Rail Timetable.  I'll let you know how it all works out.