四月, 2012: 法兰克福 始发, 米兰 到着， 巴塞尔 经由

Frankfurt makes a great air-hub for Europe. It really is right smack in the centre of western Europe. Clearing custom was easy, the officer just ask for the duration of stay and did not forget to remind you to have a good time in Germany. And just like that, I am in Germany, and thanks to the recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize 2012, I am let into much of Europe. Having landed in the airport, the train station is just across the road from the air terminal. If I head east, I could in Berlin and possibly Poland, head west into Strasburg and I would be in France within hours. But the 2 options I am interested then were either heading north into Scandanavia or south to Milan. Even though it was early in summer, early morning in Frankfurt still felt chilly. I guessed up north in viking countries, I would be colder. I decided that Scandanavia can wait, I will head down south for the warmer MIlan. But I couldn't help checking at the information counter for trains up north. I checked if ferries would be involved for the trip up north. I was told the trip can be completed with the European rail network alone. I made my way down to the German Railway, Deutche Bahn, ticketing office in the station basement. It is early in the morning, but already 4 staff in their neat uniform were up manning their counters.

I was served by a old man with graying hair. Told him my destination, and what came next was German efficiency. He pull up the train info on the screen, printed them out, and place the printout right before me. Then came the flourecent headlighting pen, to headlight the transfers involved and all the other subtle details of each options. The olg guy speaks good English, but even if he doesn't, I would have understood him perfectly. I have always thought that, though oceans apart, the Germany DB and The Japanese JR are the closest cousin in the railway world when it comes to efficiency. Only difference is, while JR just need to take care of the national railway, DB really is really at the heart of Europe.

The next train leaves for Milan in less than half an hour. And the ones after that leave a few hour later. I told the old guy I would think about which option is the best for me, and also I need to decide I would want to put down the cash for a railpass right then and there. I left counter, thought about it and decided I would head right south in the next train. I joined the queue again and was served by another younger guy, told him my choice and before long the tickets were printed. The highlight pen was out again, highlighting the train number, time of departures and most important, the transfer at Basel in Switzerland. He assured me though Switzerland is not part of the EU, I would have no trouble crossing into and out of Basel.
 

When asked about the railpass, he scanned the rows of phamplets and brochures in the shelf behind him before pulling one out for me. The info are all there and I can make up my mind later. He remind me if I get to the platform now, my train to Basel would already be waiting.

The last time I travelled out of Frankfurt was many years ago, during winter. This round, being summer, the fields by the railway were green with crops and yellow with flowers. Away from the tracks, I could see a score of people, farmers I assumed, bent over the field.

Around noon, the train pulled pass Basel Bad station, the last station before we crosses the River Rhein, as the white cross of the Swiss flag came into sight.
 
 
I have a about 2 hours of stopover at Basel station before the train into Milan. It doesn't feel like I am in another country. For all purposes, it was like a stopover at Buona Vista station for a transfer to the Circle line. There was no custom check at all, but since Switzerland is not in the Eurozone, there is the small inconvinient was changing some Euro to Swiss Franc.

Two hours is not a long time, so I headed straight for the River Rhein. A look at the map of Basel in the station, it became apparent why Switzerland had long opted to be a neutral, not making allies with the European powers of the day.
Germany is right across the River Rhein, and France is just a few stops down the railroad. In fact, I could see a roadsign in the city pointing the way to their Gaellic neighbour. When I made my way to the bank of Rhein, I wasn't sure if the houses across the river are Swiss or German. This being Sunday, most of the shops along the Rhein was closed. Two hours were up pretty quickly and I headed back to the station.
 
Basel sounds a bit like Barcelona. Though one is near the Alps and the other the Mediterranian, they do share at least one thing in common.

Basel FC home jersey has the same color scheme as her more illustrious Catalonian cousin. There is probably a game going on that Sunday, as a group of fan in their home jersey parade through the ticketing lobby of the station as they down their beer and sang their club anthems.  

Compared to the relatively flat land and unchanging scenery between Frankfurt and Basel, the Swiss Alps was a welcoming addition, still snow-capped. This was my first trip to Switzerland, but somehow the scenery looks familiar to me, every way I would have image it to be.
 
It was when a passenger came on with his dog that I realised why. The guy was togged up in full lumberjack checkered shirt, jeans and heavy suede leather boots. The dog was not a St. Bernard, but it and the alps outside the window reminded me of the Japanese anime, Heidi. I guess what I saw in Heidi on TV more than 20 years was what informed me of what Switzerland would look like. Incidentally, the dog on the train right opposite was a Japanese breed. The owner wasn't very happy that he was made to paid for bringing his hiking companion along: "almost half the price for a human, costed me more than bringing on a bicycle." And he had the train ticket for the dog to prove it.

The other passenger next to me was a Philipino lady (I guessed correctly from the ascent). It was obvious she was eager to start a conversation and while her time away on this long trip from Switzerland to Italy. I have no problem with starting, but I am not looking forward to carrying it on all the way to Italy. It was quite obvious there's enough topics in her to go all the way to Italy. But, it also became quite obvious I have neither the inclination nor the stamina to go all the way with her. Lucky for me, and her, the seat vacated by the guy with the dog was occupied by a Canadian lady next. And after a brief introduction, the two ladies were in the full swing of things.
 
We passed the Iselle station, the border station between Switzerland and Italy. By the time we reached Italy, they were exchanging facebook account and I have learnt details about their lives that some of their friends may not know...just by having sat across them on the train.

The mountain range seems to form a natural border between the two countries. Before we enter Italy, it was gloomy outside, the rocky faces of the mountain were wet from the drizzle. As we progress south, there were less of the mountain and more water.
 
The architecture of the houses also seem to change. I start to notice balcony outside windows. By the time the international train pulls into Milan, it was sunny outside.

Time to check out one of the fashion centre of Europe.