RANDOM AT LARGE

Press, Volume CIX, Issue 32018, 19 June 1969, Page 21

RANDOM AT LARGE

TAKE THE A TRAIN

One of the prides of Spain is the Talgo express, its top-line railway train, and it was on this that we travelled from Madrid to Barcelona. All the Spanish trains we used were, by New Zealand standards, quite outstanding, but the Talgo left them all behind, in every respect. Although Spain still has hundreds of massive steam locomotives which would delight members of New Zealand societies of railwayacs, the Talgo is drawn by an electric unit. Its carriages are flatter than normal, wider, and of aluminium construction: they are air conditioned. Travelling is fast, quiet, absolutely relaxing. The speed and efficiency of the train was in sharp contrast with some of the country through which we travelled. It could have been those parts of the Nevada desert whose principal use is in the making

of cowboy pictures; it would have been no surprise had John Wayne appeared on the near horizon, looking wearily into the sun. The Spanish must be extremely conscious of traffic hazards, once they leave the cities. Throughout the country, the familiar New Zealand-type warning sign, shaped like the cross of St Andrew, could be seen, even at each little mule track which looked as if it had borne no traffic for months. From Barcelona, another splendid train to the border town of Cerbere. In France, the scarlet sash of poppies Spain wears so becomingly all but ended, for now the close cultivation of grapes, the trees planted in the strictest of military formations, replaced the crops which had been almost as common as the orange groves. We had three silent companions in our com-

partinent, almost until the end of our trip. Then something broke the ice. and an animated if somewhat disjointed conversation began in badly broken Spanish, French and English. We were probably guilty on all three counts. But when they discovered we were from New Zealand, they were delighted, because they were able to explain that we were the people who walked on our heads. And when we managed to convey that this explained the rapid loss of our locks, we were on the best of good terms. There was another happy feature about entering France. It appeared that all the top brass from the French navy was there to greet us—we have never seen more splendid uniforms, with gold and badges and buttons and decorations, than those worn by what were certainly minor railway officials.