There is a soft hum in the background and every once in a while a low squeaking can be heard. The train glides slowly, seemingly without effort, through the green landscape shifting from forest to field and back to forest again under a sky full of light clouds; mist creeps across the fields and to my right the sun is setting. The coach is short with only a few groups of seats in grey and white with wooden tables in between. The roof is domed like that of an airplane but with big windows stretching upwards. Except for me there are only three other people, one behind me in a corner, one almost completely hidden behind a seat back a few rows in front, and the last one, a rather fat man with dark sunglasses (who wears sunglasses when there is no sun?) and big headphones. Except for the fat mans heavy breathing and the electrical hum in the background, it is completely silent, no one talking, no infants screaming, nothing. It somehow prompted me to look up from my book and write these words…strange.