That Joyful Ride

I just needed to close my eyes and that train ride from Colombo to Galle unspooled in my mind like it happened yesterday and not a year ago.

We arrived at Sri Lanka’s Colombo Fort Station at six in the morning, an hour before boarding time. The station, though bustling with people, was not as chaotic as I expected, and we easily found our platform, from where I watched with glee the coming and going of trains as we waited for our ride. I could have stayed there for hours marveling at the endless ebb and flow of people leaving and arriving at the station, but our train arrived on time and we had to leave.

Our observation car was attached to the rear of the train and gave us an excellent view back along the track.

The train started to move, past the commotion and the wearying tempo of the city, chugging slowly along the Indian Ocean through small coastal towns. Looking out the windows of our observation car, I could see the sweep of the railroad tracks fringed by coconut trees and flooded by the sun’s warm, golden light.  That ineffable joy of experiencing something singular for the first time seeped through me as the train rumbled on and the cool ocean breeze wafted in.