Train stations in Europe are magical places. Amsterdam Centraal station might not be as grand as some of the others in Europe, but it’s home. For me, it represents the thrill of starting a journey to a new place and the happiness of coming back home.
The tangle of wires outside the platform is actually a tablature score which only the trains know to play.
The stations in Belgium evoke Hades. Your train leaves daylight and enters a dark tunnel that eventually leads you to a platform where florescent lighting makes night out of day and day out of night.
Still I’ll remember Antwerp Centraal somewhat favourably for the beautiful architecture you encounter once you’ve taken long rides up the escalators.
Brussels Centraal unfortunately only reminds me of the 4-coloured dustbins all over the station.
Paris Gare Du Nord is a station that was meant to be a station. It isn’t there to make a statement, or for you to linger about – it is there for you to board a train. It probably exudes the same indifference with which the Parisians look at the world outside. Besides, the metro stations are the real magical domains in Paris.
