8pm Friday Madrid I have just witnessed an extraordinary army of Spanish Railways personnel preparing a train for the next sector of its journey. In theory, the train from Malaga to Barcelona is a direct service; in practice, transit passengers stay on board while the yellow-clad army whizz through, leaving everything spotless for the next bit of the journey. That even means turning all the seats around to face the direction of travel – causing great confusion to an elderly Spanish gentleman and two German students who hadn’t a clue what was going on. Luckily I was able to translate and nobody ended up sitting the wrong way round.
Checking in for the train is just one reason why I favour rail travel. Your bags are scanned in the flash of an eye, check in is done politely and efficiently and the transit from platform to the smiling welcome of the hostess at the carriage door must take all of 2 minutes. How nice it is not to have the stress of a typical airport check in!
The journey to Madrid, at speeds of up to 300 Km´s an hour, just flashed by. The newest AVE (High speed train), has such good soundproofing, the journey is almost silent. Apart, that is, from chattering Spaniards. Boy, how they love to chat.
The standard of catering was disappointing. I later learn that the advertised dinner is to be served between Madrid and Zaragoza. For the two and a half hour journey to Madrid, RENFE managed only a pitifully tiny sandwich, a beer and a cup of coffee. Even the gin and tonic didn’t come round till late in the journey, which seemed a bit odd.
Now my almost private train is filling up with all sorts of new folk. It’s Friday evening, Madrid is heading for the seaside for the weekend and even First Class is packed.
8pm Friday 
