JunlianBai

又一次坐上 ICE，穿过德国中部辽阔的平原。它当然无法与中国的大平原相比，但在欧洲大陆，已经足够让人感到一种罕见的无边无际。这里少有大城，也正因为发展得缓慢，许多地方仍保留着上世纪中叶的面貌。

柏林的清晨是零下十五度。我起得很早，只为回布鲁塞尔搬家。寒风和睡意一路跟上车厢；暖气把密闭空间变成一只风干箱。我看了几页书，终于还是沉沉睡去。

不到一小时，我被邻座的谈话惊醒。睁眼的一刻，窗外只剩下白：没有脚印，没有车辙，只有厚雪铺过平原，也铺过一座又一座缓缓起伏的山丘。列车在无尽的纯白里向前，仿佛要冲破它，也仿佛只是在逃离寒冷。两个多小时后，积雪在黑森州渐渐消融，久违的晴天出现了。我曾抱怨比利时的冬季。如今回想，偶尔能见到阳光，已经是难得的恩赐。

Once again, the ICE carried me across the broad plains of central Germany. They cannot compare with the great plains of China, but on the European continent they still create a rare sense of boundlessness. There are few large towns here, and perhaps because life has developed more slowly, much of the landscape still bears the face of the mid-twentieth century.

It was fifteen degrees below zero when I left Berlin before dawn, travelling back to Brussels to move house. The cold and the early hour followed me into the carriage; the heating turned the sealed compartment into a drying cabinet. I read a few pages, then surrendered to sleep.

Less than an hour later, voices nearby woke me. When I opened my eyes, the world was white: no footprints, no wheel tracks, only deep snow spread over the plain and the low hills beyond it. The train pressed on through that endless whiteness, as if breaking free of it—or simply fleeing the cold. Two hours later, the snow began to dissolve in Hesse and a long-absent sun appeared. I once complained about Belgian winters. Looking back, even the occasional glimpse of sunlight now feels like a rare gift.