Speeding through misty mountains, timber country, pale-looking naked vineyard, bumping into swaying fellow travelers, tuning into the language of Rodari, Munari and Geronimo Stilton, catching a first snow-capped peak... and all this to the sound of music. Only on the train that's taking me towards Milan, there's no Julie Andrews, but a jazz trio invited to celebrate the Torino jazz festival. Which makes me think that one could take books and stories (and puppet shows, Sadie) onto trains. Avanti!
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