This list arose while I was on my way home from Bordeaux last weekend.  When each person found out how long my train ride was (6h30min),  I kept getting the same response: “mais c’est si longue, ca!” or something to that effect.  I guess I could have taken a plane and saved money, but who knows how frustrating that would have been with all the transfers I’d have to make, and more importantly, I love trains.  Below are the 11 reasons why, in no particular order.

1) Train Stations: For me, they’re places that hold such promises.  The four-tone chime that rings in all French train stations before all announcements is irrevocably connected in my mind with a feeling of adventure and accomplishment.  Whether they’re tiny, uncovered, little 2-track stations, or the huge hubs with 100 feet high glass and metal ceilings, I get a thrill for being in here, in Europe, once again.

2) The Price: sure, I may grumble about how much I’m spending on a ticket, but really, $170 for a stress-free, comfortable journey across the breadth of the french countryside in spring? Worth it.

3) The Ease: drive up or walk up 15 minutes before the train leaves, stamp your ticket in the handy (and oddly entertaining) machines, walk through the tunnel to the right track, and get on the train. So easy, that took less than 10 minutes. I only fear the day security is upped on trains. As of now (minus possibly the Eurostar lines), that constant buzz of stress that comes with all airports doesn’t exist here.

4) The Time to Sit: Homework without distraction, reading or listening to books on tape without distraction, or just time to think and enjoy your surroundings — without distraction. You can’t be doing anything else, so you might as well enjoy doing nothing.

5) The Food: While the food that’s actually served on trains isn’t exactly stellar (except for that time last year Kristin and I were forced to take 1st class seats from Barcelona to Madrid), eating gran cereale or good chocolate with a baguette is.  I have a particularly vivid memory of going from Paris to Bordeaux in 2007 and having Toblerone and Orange Soda. It was sickeningly sweet but fantastic since it was an indulgence while in France, on a train.  For this trip, I found chocolate chip cookies (called “California Street Cookies” and sporting a skateboarder — as if the hip skateboarders in California all eat chocolate chip cookies while lounging at a skatepark) and a world variety pack of Haribo gummies. Verdict, Haribo gummy bears are the only kind I like.

6) The Speed: It used to take (by train) 5 and 1/2 hours to from Strasbourg to Paris. With the TGV it now takes 2 and 1/2. To go cross country from Strasbourg to Bordeaux? 10 hours. Now it takes 6 and 1/2.

7) The Amenities: It’s the little things like having more than enough leg room, an adjustable headrest, clean windows, clean seats, or warm water and plenty of toilet paper that make the price of a ticket that much easier to accept.

8) The Memories: Riding in trains reminds me of past train trips across the North-West, Colorado, France, Italy, and Spain. All were memorable and each was through gorgeous landscapes.  I think it’s because trains go where cars do not.  You get to see a cleaner and more hidden part of the country.

9) The People: I’m not a big “talk to the person next to you” person, but I’ve met the nicest people while sitting on trains (and planes, for that matter, but that’s a different story).  I love meeting fellow Americans and talking about where we’re from, why we’re here, and where we’re going.

10) The Announcements: Without fail, I always turn off my ipod and pay attention whenever the conductor starts to announce something, whether it be “in a few moments we’ll be arriving in ___” to “the food service is located in car 14.” And the food car is always car 14.  Every time I get a thrill from being able to understand what’s being said.

11) The View: I love it when I can see my city’s landmark in the distance (the tower of Siena or the cathedral of Strasbourg), but the real beauty is the countryside in between towns. I was struck by it especially this trip, having just been through a long and harsh winter.  Outside my compartment window, spring was just touching the ground. All the green rolling farmland with the occasional chateau gracefully rising from the meadows and the small stone farmhouses sprinkled throughout.  It was the french countryside you don’t really think exists. Too bad my photos won’t nearly do it justice (like it always is, isn’t it?).