Being a train driver, a convinced one at that, trains the ability to suffer.

Sighing is our primary form of communication.

There was a lot of sighing this week.

First because of the tussle in the Bundesrat.

No tank discount, nothing can compete with that.

No, it only gets really lively when a team under Bavarian leadership threatens to knock out all nine.

The discounted ticket, which is intended to sweeten our summer in non-air-conditioned regional and local transport, once again teaches us that discounts are easier to promise than to pay.

And that you can let us simmer unabashedly in waiting mode until the very end.

Somehow, somewhere, at some point, we're used to it.

Predictability is for autosofties.

Anna Lena Niemann

Editor in the “Technology and Engine” department.

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* * *

The mockery of motorists, even those who last saw a train from the inside twenty years ago, is always certain.

That's when you get into defensive mode.

Someone has to stand up for the honor of the railway if they don't do it themselves.

The argument box is big, actually.

Just one example that is too seldom considered: Those prone to motion sickness often find it the only means of transport in which one can do more than stare straight ahead for five hours.

Read, write, bordbistroen, walk through the aisles, avoid the train driver there.

Everything is possible.

But then: well, you know, delays, this, that. Sigh.

* * *

Dear Bahn, why are you making it so difficult for us to love you?

A little more unity would be there, in this week, that would be nice.

Then the heart of the Frankfurt railway enthusiast will even beat with the car parade.

Hooray, hooray!

Oh, sigh, how beautiful.