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| ベビーアイスバーグ（薔薇） / Baby Iceberg (Rose) |
受験の為だったのか忘れてしまったんですが、所謂ブルートレインには何回か乗った事があります。
ブルートレインと聞くと夜の眺めが銀河を縫うようだろうと思うかもしれませんが、夜を往く眺めがあり、時々思い出したように灯りが見え、本当に夜をただ走っているのだと、駅の匂いをそのまま纏った自分がレールの上にいる、としんみりしたりしていました。
今の夜行列車が同じかは分かりませんが、当時の車内は他者の人生の一瞬と言葉を無理やり交わすので、私と遭遇した人たちは皆、無愛想でした。
どこに行くのか、と誰も訊きたくないし、誰からも問いを持たれたくないので、２階の部屋の隅で文庫本を読んでいる自分が、切符を持っているのに眠って利用しないのが可笑しくなったり、灯りが漏れて眩しいと誰かから注意されたりしないか、ジーンズの膝を折ってヒヤヒヤしながら、カーテンの向こうの気配が動くかどうか息を潜めて、何処かへ運ばれている自分と誰かも分からない人達が新鮮でした。
どうしてか非常に苦渋に満ちた雰囲気だけの車内だったので、3等客船のデッキみたいで、夜行列車なのに、と変な感じがしたり、無理な日程をせねばならないから、節約の為に乗っているのだから、と思いながらも、きっと私は傍目にもとてもドラマティックだろうな、と、頼まれもしないのに、学生っぽく歩いたりしようか迷って、わざと遅く歩くのを、誰一人関わりたくなさそうに、さっさと追い越して、さっとカーテンを引くので痛快でした。
どうにかして大変な頭の良い苦学生のようにしようか、それとも理由があって芸能界に一人旅立つ女の子にしようか、と考えても、誰にも気が付かれなかったのが良い思い出です。
ラジオで街の音や機械の音を放送する時間が好きなのも、寝台車に乗って妙に楽しかった記憶があるからだと思います。
もっと大きかったらどうして居ただろうか、と今考えても、寝台車が廃止になったと知っていたので、最近の人は夜の移動はしないのかな、と思っていましたが、先ほど寝台の利用客が増えているというニュースを知って、もう乗ることはないし、乗っても個室しか取らないのに、すごく気持ちが明るくなりました。
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| ベビーアイスバーグ（薔薇） 2 / Baby Iceberg (Rose) 2 |
私は駅のホームや行き交う人々の姿を見ると、色々な時間をとても経過したような気がします。
時間を節約した分、一緒に居た人々の時間が私に滲み込むのでしょうね。
人に寝台だと答えると、皆、いいね！と大袈裟に喜ぶんですが、その人達より、二度と会うこともないし会ったとしても覚えてもいない人達の方が、今でも好きだと思うので、あの人達が旅情本人だったのだな、と自分の体験がより嬉しくなります。
ブルートレインという名前が本当に美しくて、夜の藍色の中を往く内に、線路の枕木の音が蒼を車体に打ち込むから、その名前を付けたんじゃないかと、名付けた人にこっそり「本当はどうして付けたんですか？」といつか訊きたいと思いながら、この先も暮らそうと思います。
それでは、素敵な日曜日をお過ごしください。
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| ベビーアイスバーグ（薔薇） / Baby Iceberg (Rose) |
I can't remember if it was for exams, but I did ride the so-called Blue Train several times.
It remains a deeply special experience within me.
Hearing “Blue Train” might make you imagine night views like traversing the Milky Way, but there was indeed a view of the night passing by. Occasionally, lights would appear as if remembered, and I'd feel a quiet melancholy, thinking, “I'm really running through the night,” with the scent of the station still clinging to me, knowing I was on the rails.
I don't know if modern night trains are the same, but because you're forced to exchange words for a fleeting moment in someone's life, everyone I encountered was unfriendly.
No one wanted to ask where I was going, and I didn't want anyone to wonder about me either. So, sitting in the corner of a second-floor room reading a paperback, I found it odd that I had a ticket but wasn't sleeping. I worried someone might tell me off for the light leaking out and being too bright. I'd fold my jeans at the knees, nervous, holding my breath to see if any movement stirred behind the curtain. Being transported somewhere with people I didn't know felt fresh.
For some reason, the car was filled only with an atmosphere of intense bitterness, like the deck of a third-class passenger ship. and it felt odd that it was a night train. Even though I knew I was riding it to save money because my schedule was impossible, I thought I must look incredibly dramatic to others. Without being asked, I hesitated about walking in a student-like way, deliberately slowing down, only to have everyone, seemingly wanting nothing to do with me, quickly pass me by and swiftly draw their curtains. It was exhilarating.
I wondered if I should somehow try to look like a brilliant, struggling student, or perhaps a girl setting off alone into the entertainment world for some reason. Even though I thought about it, no one noticed me, and that's a good memory.
I think my fondness for radio programs broadcasting city sounds and machinery noises stems from that strangely enjoyable memory of riding in a sleeper car.
Even now, I wonder how I'd feel about it if I were older. Knowing the sleeper cars had been discontinued, I assumed people these days don't travel at night. But just now, I heard news that sleeper car usage is increasing. Even though I'll never ride one again, and if I did, I'd only book a private compartment, it made me feel incredibly cheerful.
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| ベビーアイスバーグ（薔薇） 2 / Baby Iceberg (Rose) 2 |
Rather than countless lives, I think I'm applying the laws of relativity to the sight of so many unfamiliar faces, their weariness seeping through as they head toward the ticket gates.
Perhaps the time saved allows the time of those I was with to seep into me.
The reason I only have fond memories of sleeper car journeys is that those trips—sleeping somewhere tense while listening to the train's sounds, then suddenly waking to chase the morning—were profoundly sad.
When I tell people I took a sleeper car, they all exaggeratedly exclaim, “How nice!” But I still prefer those people I'll never meet again, or even if I did, wouldn't remember, more than those who reacted that way. So I realized those people were the essence of the journey itself, making my own experience all the more joyful.
The name “Blue Train” is truly beautiful. As it travels through the indigo night, the sound of the railroad ties seems to beat a blue rhythm into the train's body. I sometimes wonder if that's why it was named that. I secretly hope to ask the person who named it someday, “What was the real reason behind the name?” I intend to keep living with that thought.
Well then, have a wonderful Sunday.
20251124 09:27 Revised the text and added music.
