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Night Train From München

Overnight trains are an interesting way to travel around Europe. When done well, it doubles as a night of accomodation and you don't lose a day to traveling.

NightJet offers three options when booking a ticket:

I was in München (a.k.a. Munich) and wanted to travel to Bordeaux. I decided I had tried seats last time and found it very uncomfortable for sleeping. This time I opted for a couchette.

This is the story of catching that train.

The München Ost Station

The second hand of the station clock smoothly swings past midnight. A bell chimes twelve times in the distance. It's officially a new day, but it still feels like Saturday to me.

I am waiting at platform 6 of München Ost. My backpack and guitar sit next to me on the cold metal bench. I turn my head and stare intensely at the digital sign. All it says is simply "Paris 00:15", with a message that there is a 25 minute "verspatung". I'm not happy about the delay, but the sign brings some comfort - the train exists and I am waiting at the right platform.

The overnight train was scheduled to depart here at a quarter past midnight. As soon as I had arrived I could see that it wasn't going to be here - there was a 25 minute verspatung.

I'm the only person waiting for the Paris train. There are those who arrive with a suitcase, shuffling their feet, pacing expectantly, but then a regional train will arrive behind us and they hop into the warm light of the carriage and dissapear into the night.

Brief signs of life on this cold night. Once again I am on the only person on the platform.

An announcement. I can't quite make out all the words but I think they said "gleiß sechs", my platform. I hear the sound of a train in the distance. This could be it, my ticket out of here.

I stand up and gather my bags. The train is getting closer, but something's wrong - it's not slowing down. Suddenly the train appears in front of me, followed by a loud roar and the strong gust and a flurry of snowfalkes in it's wake. The icy wind cuts into my face. I step back out of the blast and wait for the freight train to pass before sitting down again.

12:40 approaches, arrives and leaves, but the platform sign doesn't seem to have noticed. I blink. The sign updates. The 25min delay increases to a 35min delay. Not great, but there is still hope.

The silhouette of a business man appears on platform 6. Tall, well dressed in a coat and hat, carrying only a thick briefcase.

12:50 ticks by. Still no sign of the train. I stare at the sign expectantly, will there be yet another delay?

Nightmares strike. The sign updates, but Paris is no longer listed. It's a train to München central. What happened to my train? Terrified that I will miss my train, I grab my bags and hurry back down the steps to check the station timetable. Paris isn't listed anywhere! Is it still on it's way? Which platform should I be on!? It will take at least 2 minutes to head back to the entrance to ask the staff in the information cubicle.

I rush back up the stairs to Platform 6. Still no sign of the train. I spot the business man.

"Excuse me, are you heading to Paris?"

"Yes, let me make a call".

Perfect, this man knows who to call. He speaks deutsch to this phone and then turns back to me.

"It's just arriving at Platform 7, but no need to hurry."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm the driver."

This is fantastic news.

We head to platform 7 and there it is, suddenly, the NightJet, undercarriage covered in ice.

The driver disappears.

I try and find my carriage, number 11. I find the door 12. Great, I'm not too far away, but which way is 12? The carriages stretch out to the left and right. I take a guess and turn right, moving as fast as I can. Number 13! Oh no, I need to go back... I turn around and trot back down the platform. I find the door to carriage 11 and pull it open. I'm in! Phew. Safe.

Boarding the train. Walk along looking for bed 92. The hallway is dark, I find my way to the end of the carriage. There it is, bottom bunk.

I have a quick peak inside, the cabin is tiny but sleeps 6 people on bunks. I can't tell how many people are in there, I see feet and arms sticking out. The small channel down the centre is full of luggage and ends with a ladder to the top bunks. I'm glad I don't have to climb that tonight.

The conductor arrives, I show my ticket. I'm on the right train. I will make it to Paris! He asks if I would like a hot drink in the morning, I suggest that a coffee would be nice.

Working as quietly as possible, I start to prepare for sleep. There are two spare bunks, mine on the bottom and an empty bunk above me. There is no room left for my bags on the floor, so I store my luggage in the bunk above me.

I find some sheets, a blanket and a poor excuse of a pillow. The sheet is twice as long as the bed, so I assume it functions as both a bottom and top sheet, with myself cocooned in the middle. It's difficult work, but I manage to lay it flat folded in half and with the blanket on top.

I find the bathroom nearby. Press the button and the door slowly slides to the right. The lights flicker on for a brief moment before turning off again. Great. I enter and press the button again, watching the door slowly shutting itself. I look for a light switch but can't see anything. Fortuantely there is a frosted window letting enough light in so that I can find my way around.

Back in bed I realise that I'm not going to be getting a quiet night of sleep. Harsh lights shine through the curtain, lighting up the cabin. The clattering of the tracks reverebates through the cabin. Ear Plugs only do so much.

No time for pajamas, I sleep in my clothes.

There is a sort of seat belt attached to the side of the bed. I set it up, hoping that it stops me from falling out of bed.

I slowly drift in and out of sleep.

8am rolls around. I check my phone - we are in France!

The conductor appears. We get up and out of bed. The cabin is lit now. There are four of us in this cabin.

A younger woman in the bunk across from me, an older woman above her and a man on the top bunk.

I move my luggage temporarily and the conductor helps to pivot the middle bunk down, to turn my bunk into a couch.

He returns with a plastic tray, holding a coffee cup, two bread rolls, a slab of butter and a tiny jar of raspberry jam.

We eat breakfast in silence.

The older woman is from Salzburg, she runs a stationery shop there is heading to Paris for a trade show.

The younger woman lives in Paris, she is returning home. She doesn't say much. She lets me use her phone charger.

Mr top bunk doesn't say anything, he stays on the top bunk.

We arrive in Paris at Gare d'Est and part ways.

I carried on my way to Bordeaux.