I once shared a couchette on a train from Budapest to Venice with a woman who was making her way to Barcelona to catch a steamship to New York. No. It wasn't 1936. It was 2003. She had started in New York 8 weeks earlier and took Amtrak to Emeryville, CA, then took a local train to San Francisco. She got a passenger berth on a container ship to Vladivostok in Eastern Russia (you can do that and, incongruously, it ain't cheap). She boarded a west bound train headed to Moscow via the Trans-Siberian Express. I have no idea how long that takes. She had taken the cure for a couple of days at a spa in Budapest after pulling in from Moscow. She was in her late 70s and I have to say that was the damn coolest trip. No planes. Just lots of time to read and look out the window.
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