Inside the tunnel

This January started for us with an interesting exploration. We walked on the track inside a train tunnel. And to describe the whole experience, I can only say ‘Super awesome’!!

One train enthusiast, who with his friend has walked on almost all railway tracks in Slovenia, traditionally walks inside Bohinj tunnel for quite some years now on 2^nd January. His friend and few other enthusiasts join in. This time he sent a sms to Blaž, inviting him to join the walk too. We instantly decided that we would go. It sounded fun and interesting. Blaž loves trains, and anything related to railway. Therefore, he was very eager. I am also interested in trains, though maybe not in such technical manner. However, the idea of walking in a 6 km long train tunnel definitely caught my attention and interest. I was looking forward to it too.

Bohinj tunnel is 6327m long, built in 1906. It was, at that time, one of the most important railway connection between Trieste and Central Europe. Presently it is the longest Slovenian railway tunnel. The tunnel has a slow uphill slope reaching its highest point somewhere around the middle, and then it again goes down. One interesting feature of the tunnel is the presence of water source deep inside it. Originally planned as a double track tunnel, there is now only one track. The other was removed to improve the drainage inside the tunnel. Left now with only the southern portal, a consequence of World War II, the tunnel stands there, still as the same important railway connection.

The plan was to take the train around 2pm on the other side of the tunnel and then walk our way back. Accordingly, we gathered at the station Bohinjska Bistrica around the time. The scheduled train was mostly for carrying cars across the tunnel and had only one small chair car. It took us around 10 minutes to reach the Podbordo station on the other side. It was fun to watch the cars boarding off the train. And then, we slowly started towards the tunnel for our walk. There was a bridge leading to the entrance of the tunnel. It was funny and a tad bit scary to walk on those iron sheets by the side of the track. Wow, I always wished to walk on a railway bridge! We let one locomotive pass before we entered the tunnel. And of course, a few pictures had to be taken. The weather was not particularly good, which meant that a constant draft wind would blow in our back. But that did not matter anyway; it only made things interesting. We were geared up with our flashlights and reflective vests; and were about to begin our in-tunnel adventure!! I was excited.

Bohinj tunnel.. Before entering..

We entered the tunnel. The first couple of meters still got the day light from outside. And then, we were enveloped in the darkness. The tunnel wall was covered with thick layer of soot and little coal particles. A result of all the smoke from the coal trains and the present diesel trains. I imagined my previous heritage steam train rides and the thick black smoke from the engine creating yet another layer of soot while passing through the tunnel. It was inches thick, a sort of crumbly yet hard layer. There were little coal particles shining like gemstones under our flashlights. At the beginning of the tunnel, there were little structures in the wall, strategic points to facilitate dynamite explosion in case the army ever needs to close the tunnel behind them. We also took notice of the architecture, how stone and concrete slabs of different sizes and shapes lay in perfect alignment.

The remnants of the second track were still there for the initial few meters. Then it was gravel and sand, a bit wet. Blaž and I walked on the tracks while others were walking on the side gravel. To me the track felt more comfortable. It was safe as we knew the schedule of the trains. And most importantly, that was what I always wished to do. During my numerous train rides to holiday destinations when I was little, I always wished to walk on the tracks. I always imagined how I would hop from one sleeper to the next. And even though I did do it before on some abandoned tracks, it was only for a few steps. I was always envious of the railway maintenance workers. Now, when I got one chance to walk kilometers on it, I was not ready to it let go. My heart made happy jumps as I stepped from one sleeper to another!

Inside the tunnel

Little posts marked the kilometers. Lines marked the nearest niches, which were each 100 meters. Some of the niches were bigger with telephone boxes etc. There were posts marking allowed speed limits and approaching signal or station. The signal was a nice glowing red, wrapped in the darkness. A few meters ahead, there was another signal glowing orange indicating the approach of a traffic signal. As we walked on and looked back, both the signals were glowing side by side. Further ahead, the signals merged into one. We switched off all our flashlights for some time, silently walking in the complete darkness. Rarely one experiences such darkness when literally nothing is visible.

At a point we had a scare that a train is approaching us from the opposite direction. We stepped down quickly from the tracks. Waiting patiently for a minute by the side of the track, we could neither see the light approaching nor hear the sound. There was no train scheduled at that time anyway. Soon we realized that it was the signal light on the other side of the tunnel, which we had mistaken as an approaching train. We were now almost halfway in the tunnel. The signal light left behind had vanished as the tunnel sloped up. The light in front of us was now marking our goal, the other end of the tunnel.

There is a big chamber inside the tunnel, almost like a room. Initially used for keeping tools and other equipments, now it is nicknamed as ‘ball room’. There we decided to have a picnic! Wow, wasn’t that fun! Having a picnic inside a railway tunnel! In the chamber there was an old table with two benches, some other higher table, and a old closet like thing. Everything had a layer of soot. Our first job was to cover the surfaces of the table and benches with old newspapers. We lit some candles. There were chocolates and cookies, and each had their own sandwiches. There was even champagne! Someone had some practical plastic cocktail glasses. We made a toast to the walk and the New Year.

The draft of wind outside the chamber had a chill in it. It was time for a train to pass. We went out to wait for the train in dark. Some had cameras ready. We saw the glowing yellow lights appear at the end. It grew bigger and brighter, but still there was no sound! The sound came much later when the train was already very close. We waved our hands and the train blew its horn a bit in response.  Soon the other two scheduled trains also went by. It was time to continue our walk. We gathered our trashes, and resumed walking. And more adventure was in store for us.

Soon we came across the first of the underground water sources. A concrete wall guarded the track from the water gushing out on it during heavy rains. Now however, there was only a little stream flowing through the lower pipe. It was a tiny narrow tunnel leading to the source some 25 meters ahead. We lowered ourselves down into this narrow tunnel for more exploration. We walked on the narrow bank, the water rushing past us in the little stream. It was a tiny walk towards the source. Through a narrow shaft in the rock-wall water was gushing out. Inside there was a narrow pool, someone mentioned at least 5 meters deep. The other two ends of this narrow tunnel only led to dead ends.

We were no more walking on the tracks, which were now at a higher level. During the rainy times, a stream would flow where we were walking. Now it was only a fast stream flowing under the track. From time to time, little vents were present, and we could hear the stream. There were a few other tiny orifices with water trickling down the wall. At places, the water had frozen into pretty ice sculptures. Soon we also reached the second water source. This stream was much more interesting and mysterious. It had two different shafts, both with water. The left one is short and strong, while the right one goes slightly up for about 20 meters. The strong water made both of them almost inaccessible. Now, the water was flowing under our feet as we walked on the concrete slabs for the remaining of the tunnel.

The red light at the end of the tunnel that we had seen from far now approached closer. We were at the end of our walk. Outside it was drizzles mixed with snow. There was a bit more walk to the station and I continued walking on the tracks as far as I could. At the station, we decided to wait a bit longer for the train at 7pm. And after that, it was time to go home.

I walked on the tracks. I walked in the longest railway tunnel in Slovenia. I spent around four and half hours inside a railway tunnel. We even had a mini picnic. Four trains passed us while in the tunnel. We saw the underground water sources. I even walked to the first one. There were beautiful ice sculptures. A fast stream was flowing under the tracks and us. Was it not exciting and awesome? It was. It sure was.

I returned home all happy, excited and full of stories. It was just Super Awesome!!!

Hanging the socks

Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells

Jingle all the way
Oh, what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh

Of all the Christmas carols, this was my favorite as a child. It announced that Santa Claus was coming soon with his big red sack full of gifts. And he had something for me too! Technically, Christmas was not a festival celebrated in our family. However, in the country where hues of different cultures and religions unify to create a vibrant picture, that does not really matter. As the little lights glittered, the bells chimed, tempting smell from bakeries filled the air, and Christmas carols were everywhere, I waited impatiently for dear old Santa. And the gift.

I do not remember the year I was introduced to this idea of gift giving around the Christmas time. As my grandma retells my childhood, I realize that it wasn’t really about Santa then. I celebrated getting something all over the winter. As she would call me to wake up in the morning, I would sleepily search under my pillow. And would refuse to get up unless I found the coveted ‘gift’. The ‘gift’ would usually be a carrot, a few peapods, an orange, an apple, a tomato etc, whatever was there in grandma’s kitchen. I love fruits and vegetables; and soon after brushing, would munch on those fresh produces.  I only remember those mornings in bits and pieces. I have this one faint image of me denying getting up from the bed complaining about the missing gift. My grandma hurried with a few pods of peas from her busy kitchen and kept it under my pillow. All the time I pretended to sleep with eyes closed.  On some Sundays, it would maybe be one bar of chocolate or a few lozenges. Sometimes I even got a coloring box or a new pencil. I knew that ‘Santa’ was my dida only, but never stopped believing in the story somehow.  I never stopped enjoying in those little moments of surprises.

The earliest real memory of Christmas I have was from the time when I was already a toddler in school. There would be a big Christmas tree in school, and one of the teachers dressed as Santa would distribute some sweets. We would enact the nativity play. When I was in the primary school, we would decorate our classrooms with paper chains and balloons and glittery decorations. We would arrange to bring a cake and have a little feast of our own. A fun filled and colorful day in the school before the winter breaks.

Where those cheerful banters filled the classroom, at home it was all about putting up the stockings on the Christmas Eve. We did not have a tree at home, not one to put the socks anyway. I used to decorate the little tree I made in the art and craft class of school.  Therefore, my brother and I would hang socks on our bedposts before going to bed that night. I took pleasure in imaging that putting on the longer stockings instead of shorter socks would make Santa keep a bigger box of gift by it for me. I never made any list for Santa, simply wished anything nice. In the morning, I would wake up to a big packet hanging on my bedpost.  In crisp paper-wraps would be some surprise gifts. One year it was some bright warm woolens, another year there was matching lunch box and water bottle for school. Sometimes I got books. There would be also some chocolates and other goodies. However, I do not remember getting any toys or similar things ever. Even though the gifts were always things I needed or things that were useful, they never ceased to make me happy. It was never about what were inside those packets. It is always about opening those packets.

The Christmas tree.. Gifts were already opened and loved..

Children, as they grow up, start doubting the existence of Santa. They make plans trying to catch the parents in Santa act. My brother did. That year around Christmas, he started to voice his doubt regarding the old man. On Christmas Eve, he went to bed after putting up the socks like usual. And then, he just pretended to sleep. Later at night, as my parents were hanging the gift bags by our socks, he startled them saying ‘Ma, baba, ami kintu dekhte pachi je tomra gift rakhcho!’ (Mom, dad, I can see that it is you who are keeping the gifts). My parents exclaimed, ‘Didn’t you sleep yet’!! I never opened my eyes to peek into the tale.

Maybe, because I always knew it were parents or grandparents sneaking in to silently put the gifts by the bed, I was never eager to remove the wrap of mystery. I was always keen on keeping my eyes closed and living in the fairy tale. I made myself believe that the packets arrived there magically from some old friendly grandpa like man. I liked to keep the Christmas gifts wrapped under veil of surprise and tales. I still do. The anticipation, will there be a gift in the morning by my pillow, underneath the tree. The excitement, what will be inside it? The slow careful unwrapping of the colorful paper. The ripples of instant surprise and happiness in my heart. This is all what Christmas gifts are about. As Blaž and I were wrapping up the Christmas tree last weekend, I was already eagerly looking forward to take it out next winter. I love decorating the tree.

And the child in me still loves to hang the socks on a Christmas tree. And waits for Santa to come and sneak in the house to leave a gift for her by the tree…

When he cooks for me

He loves making and of course drinking tea. Unfortunately, I do not drink tea. He is not really into cooking. He likes eating. And the best part is, even though he has his favorites, he eats almost everything. Therefore, I can happily carry on with my culinary adventures! However, it is not that he does not know cooking. He can cook simple and basic things. But, because he does not need to cook often, he does not have a feel about it. Whenever he is cooking, he tries to follow the recipe perfectly, to the T. If the recipe calls for cooking the onions for 10 minutes, he will exactly do that. I on the other hand will do that based on instinct and often add my own modifications. Thus, my experiments can yield all sorts of results from delicious to not so palatable. And that is why whenever he cooks, it is very tasty. Special..

My favorite dish cooked by him is some Indian chicken preparation with green beans and peanuts. It is just perfectly spicy and fresh. And whenever I wish him to cook something for me, it is often this dish. He also once cooked for me some simple pasta with tuna and tomatoes. Another dish I loved a lot. I love whenever he cooks. Therefore, this time for my birthday I wished a simple dinner cooked by him. I did not have any specific wish. Just something simple and tasty, maybe some pasta.. That was the plan.

In the afternoon on my birthday, before leaving work, he sent me email with three pasta dishes asking which one I would like most. We had decided to go to the grocery store quickly after work. With all the evenings almost spent outside around these festive days, my fridge barely had anything in it, except chocolates! I choose the pasta dish with lots of veggies; the other two had some heavy cream sauce which are not exactly my favorite. And even though only a limited variety of vegetables are available during winter, especially in the grocery stores, I thought it would be a more fresh and vibrant dish with whatever ingredients available. So, we went to the grocery store.

I chose mushrooms, carrots, asparagus, zucchini, and tomatoes for the pasta. Even though the broccoli was available, we would only need a cup of florets and did not wish the broccoli to stay in the fridge waiting for days and getting spoilt. He asked, “shrimps”? I was like, “no, this time let us just use vegetables and go with the recipe”. The only thing we decided to change was to not use the cream. I was really looking forward to the dinner and the evening as we drove home. “Fresh veggies and parmesan, a perfect combination it is going to be. Especially when he is cooking it for me”!

After reaching home, he started with the preparations for the pasta and I decided to talk to my parents a bit. Of course, before sitting with the skype, I helped him with the not so detailed instructions of the recipe. And while talking to parents also, I was there whenever he had any questions.

“Should I also peel the zucchini”?

“Yes, peel and cut into cubes”. The zucchini was neither very young nor bio.

“Should I start boiling the carrots and then add the asparagus after 10 minutes”?

“No need to boil the asparagus, you can sauté it with the other vegetables”.

I was answering him in between talking to parents. From time to time, I just went to the kitchen counter to supervise if all was going good. Somehow I was juggling well between talking to parents and helping him with cooking. And enjoying the whole thing.

“Do the mushrooms need peeling too”?

“No no, just give them a quick wash”

“And should I make thin slices”?

“No, cut them in halves or quarters, it will be nice and chunky”.

“How much pasta to use”?

And I went to him to take out the pasta for two.

The next big question was regarding the sequence of the vegetables for sautéing.

“First sauté the mushrooms until the water they leave evaporates, then add the zucchini and asparagus, finally when everything is almost done, add the boiled carrots and diced tomatoes”.

And in went the vegetables and the salt and pepper.

As I finished talking to my parents, I moved to the kitchen area. There was a large bunch of parsley lying on the board freshly chopped. On a plate, there was a generous portion of grated parmesan. The sautéed veggies smelled delicious. It was so tempting. Slowly it took the perfect shape as he added the pasta, chopped parsley and the parmesan. It looked vibrant. There was this mouth-watering smell in the air. I could hardly wait to take a forkful and enjoy in the delicate play of flavors.

He had already set the table. There was only time to take a picture for memory before we sat down. I wrapped my fork in pasta, and took a few bits of veggies too. There was a burst of different subtle flavors in my mouth. The chunky sweetness of carrots, the mellow zucchini, the succulent asparagus, the savory meaty mushrooms, the tangy tomatoes giving hint of tart, the fresh aroma of parsley, and the sharpness of parmesan, all created a beautiful medley. Wow! It was simply so delectable. 

Mmmm...

“Is it good”?

“Mmm..hmmm”. I replied in my strange way of saying yes. Between mouthfuls of the delicacy, there was no time to talk.

“Should I make it again”? Coyly he asked me, mimicking the same question I generally ask when I prepare a new dish.

“Yes, of course. I really like it. It is very good. And I would like you to make it again for me”.

It was really very delicious. Whenever he cooks, it is always so delicious. So romantic too.

“You should tell your girl to take breaks from her experiments, and cook more for her.

Now, shouldn’t you”?

;)