Hoteli inayotembea wakati umelala

Kuna hoteli ambapo unalala nchi moja na kuamka nchi nyingine. Inaitwa treni ya usiku, na Ulaya imejaa treni kama hizo. Unapanda jioni kwenye stesheni ya mji mkubwa, unapata chumba chako kidogo chenye kitanda kinachokunjwa na ngazi yake ndogo, na karibu usiku wa manane jukwaa huteleza nyuma yako. Mchokoze rafiki yako ajaribu hili pamoja nawe badala ya ndege.

There is a hotel where you fall asleep in one country and wake up in another. It is called a night train, and Europe is full of them. You board in the evening at a big city station, find your tiny cabin with its fold down bed and its little ladder, and somewhere around midnight the platform slides away behind you. Dare a friend to try this with you instead of a flight.

Wazia tukio hilo. Viatu vyako viko chini ya kitanda, tikiti yako imewekwa kwenye mfuko karibu na mto, na chumba kizima kinayumbayumba kwa upole kama mashua. Kupitia pengo la pazia, unaona vipande vya usiku, nyumba ya shambani yenye mwanga, jina la stesheni likipita haraka mno kusomeka, mabega meusi ya milima. Wakati fulani, mpaka wa nchi unapita chini yako, na unalala ukiuvuka bila kujua.

Picture the scene. Your shoes are under the bed, your ticket is tucked into the pocket by the pillow, and the whole room rocks gently like a boat. Through the gap in the curtain you catch pieces of the night, a lit farmhouse, a station name flashing past too fast to read, the black shoulders of mountains. At some point a border passes under you, and you sleep straight through it.

Asubuhi, mhudumu hugonga mlango akiwa na kahawa na mikate ya joto, na unainua pazia kwenye ulimwengu mpya kabisa. Theluji juu ya vilele, ukungu mabondeni, ng'ombe ambao dhahiri hawajawahi kuharakisha popote. Ulilala mjini mkuu wa nchi na ukaamka ndani ya kadi ya posta ya Milima ya Alps. Hakuna uwanja wa ndege, hakuna foleni, hakuna mizigo iliyopotea. Ni kitanda tu chenye injini nzuri sana.

In the morning an attendant knocks with coffee and warm rolls, and you lift the blind on a completely new world. Snow on the peaks, mist in the valleys, cows that have clearly never hurried anywhere. You went to bed in a capital city and woke up inside a postcard of the Alps. No airport, no queue, no lost luggage. Just a bed with a very good engine.