The Train Trip

As I was awaiting my ride on the frozen platform yesterday morning, I had already started to dream of the upcoming Sea/s of White - and to regret not having a camera along. That, along with the hopes of a nice afternoon's rest made me expect one very picturesque journey.

The facts have however been different. [Aren't they always?..]
My dreamy joy was getting squashed minute by minute as the journey was growing implacably cold.
The first 4,5h have only been bearable thanks to the others: the train was so crowded that we were all warming up on our own and each others' bodily heat. But then the darkness came along. The sun was gone by 5.00 p.m. With 2 more hours to go, we were getting fewer and fewer - and what's worse, without any relevant source around.
1,5 hours left... 1h... 50min... [please, please, don't let there be any delay!] 40min...
Frozen breath, almost hitting the ground upon its creation. And then again. [And again.]
The air seemed thick as a pool of ice and just as sharp.

It doesn't take much to forget all dreaminess in this inconsiderate environment: when the rail company's personnel tell you that the freezing air is hot; when a 7h winter journey turns into a series of complaints. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to come to terms with this. [Why] Should I?