CHAPTER 74 - INLAND ROUTE ---- CAPÍTULO 74 - RUTA INTERIOR
The Madrid–Algeciras train departed at 08:00. A black locomotive, imposing and powerful, waited on the main platform, exhaling columns of steam that mingled with the cold morning air. The carriages, painted a dark brown, had a solid appearance that inspired confidence. “This is a proper train,” John remarked admiringly. Once again, Andrew was in charge of the logistics. With the first-class tickets in his hand, he led the family to the appropriate carriage, where the ticket inspector showed them to their compartment, very similar to the one on the previous train. They settled in and, a few minutes later, after the stationmaster’s piercing whistle, the train started with a gentle jolt, leaving the immense Atocha station behind. Before long the convoy gathered speed and entered the Castilian plain, where the landscape stretched wide, golden, almost endless. Fields of grain, isolated farmhouses, and the windmills of La Mancha passed by the windows. “What memories these landscapes br...
