In terms of opulence, the DSG restaurant car lacked that possessed by the pre-war carriages - it was a fairly plain wood panelled affair with blue seatings in a 2+1 configuration, red curtains and a dark grey carpet.

Half a dozen people were already seated, four with plates of hot food in front of them, two with just coffees. It was a bit early for beer or wine.

A waiter was walking around to take orders.

****

North catches the waiters eye, and indicates his chosen seat at the near end of the coach, facing the rest of the car's occupants.

"Kaffee, bitte, und ein Menü."

Lieba looked around a bit and shrugged her shoulders.

"I am not very good at playing cards, but if there is no money involved, I will play."

After twenty minutes of playing, Lieba had won all four games of rummy and was on her way to winning a fifth.

At that point both Lieba and Josie started to hear something. Some form of music.

"Do you hear a violin?" Lieba said.

In reply to Control (msg # 22):

Ooc:Okay.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 24):

"Yeah, I hear something." Josie replied, thinking that the other girl was a very good player.

The waiter nodded and went to get a cup of coffee.

****

"I do too", Lieba said, "I think it is coming from the compartment next to us. Do you want to take a look?"

''Sure thing. Wonder who it is.'' Josie remarked.

"I'll stay here and look after our stuff", Sarah said as Lieba got up. Lieba stepped outside the compartment and walked the couple of paces over to the next one, followed by Josie.

Sitting alone in the next compartment was a young man, no older than 30, playing a violin to a classical aria. Lieba searched her memory to see what it was.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 29):

"Hello, sir. You're a very good player." Josie said simply. There! A good start for conversation, should he wish to make it.

The violinist stopped playing and then looked up.

"Why thank you", the man said in a strong Slavic accent, then looked at Lieba, "Are you Lieba Moszkowicz?"

Lieba nodded.

"[Language unknown: Foave ticic o Vorcontha Mela'itho. Ioers onsessthe il astlarvir prethothi mo.]"

The man put his violin gently down on the seat and got up to kiss Lieba's hand.

Josie smiled at that "It would seem that he's heard of you." She whispered to the other girl.

Lieba didn't respond to Josie immediately as she let the Polish violinist kiss her hand.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 33):

Ooc: English, French, and a bit of German. No, she is not.

Tadeuz Sikorski turned to Josie and himself smiled.

"Are you American?" he asked, "I have never met an American before."

He then looked perturbed.

"I am sorry, I did not ask you your name. I am Tadeuz Sikorski. It is honour to meet you, Miss?"

There was a sharp toot of the locomotive horn up ahead of them.

Once Josie had introduced herself, the Polish man continued.

"Have you been to Czechoslovakia before?"

In reply to Tadeuz Sikorski (msg # 35):

"No, I'm English." Josie replied."I'm Josie Graceston. Nice to meet you, too."

The horn gave off a sharp sound, and Josie added, "No, I have not."

"It is a wonderful country. Prague in particular is most excellent. I alas will have to go straight from there to Leipzig for a concert tonight." Tadeusz replied, "The wonderful and brave people in the Czechoslovak Air Force will be giving me a lift."

He looked at her.

"I trust once you see the socialist bloc, any American misconceptions you will have about it will disappear."

In reply to Tadeusz Sikorski (msg # 37):

"I've seen pictures of Prague." Josie added, smiling.

She shook her head. "I should think so."

The conversation continued in a somewhat stilted manner, for about an hour, until it reached something of a conclusion. Lieba returned to her compartment with Josie.

There was a fairly stop at Nuremberg to take on some extra carriages and drop others off that were heading for Passau in Austria.

At around 12.30, the two of them decided to head for the dining car for some lunch; they were about 45 minutes from the border station of Schrinding.

In reply to Control (msg # 39):

Josie had thought the conversation, no matter how stilted it was, quite interesting. When it was time for dinner, she and Lieba went to the dining car to get a meal.

The dining car was only a quarter full at this point. It appeared a lot of people had already gotten off and not many of them would be travelling across the frontier into Czechoslovakia, especially with the visa requirement.

Lieba and Josie sat across one of the tables for two facing each other, the landscape of Bavaria passing them outside the window.

"So, what are your favourite subjects for small talk?" Lieba asked, making small talk.

In reply to Lieba (msg # 41):

Josie shrugged. "History, art, literature."

"So, what do you want to cover then?" Lieba asked, "Literature? Have you read the latest Agatha Christie?"

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 43):

"Oh, yeah. I love her books." Josie said.

"To be honest, I think she's getting a bit past it now. Poirot must be a candidate for the oldest man alive, he was supposed to have retired from the police before the First World War."

Lieba looked at the menu.

"What do you fancy to eat? I fancy the bratwurst myself."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 22:34, Thu 20 Jan 2022.

Part of this diverse rake of carriages, although only three times a week, was a carriage of the Compagnie internationale des wagons-lits et du tourisme, the international company best known for services like the Orient Express. The communist takeover east of the Iron Curtain had seen its services there nationalised, but a couple of their services crossed over, including a single Paris-Prague sleeper, with eleven compartments each carrying up to two passengers.

Hannes had forked out the $46 dollar supplement to have the compartment with berths 7 and 8 all to himself. It wasn't exactly the biggest room he'd ever stayed in, containing two fold-down bunks that converted to make a sofa during the day, a small seat and a table. The interior was a deeply elegant wooden affair and the floor smartly carpeted. His luggage was placed in a steel rack above him.

There were two toilets each end of the corridor and Hannes shared a washroom with the (empty) compartment next door. The CIWLT attendant was sitting at the end of the corridor to his left, looking at his watch, calculating how long he had until the least pleasant part of the trip, namely an encounter with the Czechoslovak border officials.

The dining car sat in front of Hannes in case he wanted any food or drink; and a French couchette carriage was coupled behind him.

Most of the people in this carriage had detrained at Frankfurt or Nuremberg; apart from the attendant, there was an old couple three compartments down. They'd kept themselves very much to themselves and the man seemed to be rather deaf. But the attendant had been pretty friendly and they'd swapped stories of past trips. Whether Hannes had told the truth was something only he knew.

As the train rattled through the Bavarian countryside, the point of danger was now approaching for everyone.