While I laid in bed, leg broken and immobile, I had a lot of time to think of what I would do once I was on my feet again. The first thing on the list was to ‘live new experiences with friends’, with new dutifully underlined for emphasis. I thus knew exactly what I had to do when I saw an advertisement for the Tren de la Fresa, an heritage railway running daily excursions in October: I convinced Sara and Fernando to tag along for the day.
The three of us met up at Madrid’s train museum early on a Sunday morning, tired and weary, only to be greeted by the shouts of a guy in a period train conductor’s uniform. To my horror, I realised that I’d dragged my friends into an interactive experience designed for children, actors and all.
Once we and the masses of young families aboard were seated, the train began its journey towards Aranjuez, a historic city on the outskirts of Madrid. We chatted away and everything seemed pretty normal, that was until two actors showed up with suitcases and began shouting at each other. I didn’t really follow the storyline, but the three of us giggled along at the goofy spectacle.
Little did we know that the best was yet to come. After the impromptu performance, music began to blare over the speakers and the actors cajoled the whole wagon into signing along to the theme tune of the Tren de la Fresa. This pushed us over the edge and we wound up in stitches, laughing ourselves silly as we arrived in Aranjuez.
We then swapped the wooden bench seating for the back row of the chiquitren, a trackless road train which was exactly like the ones I remember zipping around the Spanish tourist towns of my childhood. This was followed by a river cruise and then lunch, which included my first taste of frogs legs. I’d say they tasted like chicken, but really they tasted like the garlic in which they’d been cooked.
The train journey back had us singing the Tren de la Fresa song once more, this time with a little bowl of strawberries in hand. Those of you who’ve been doing your Duolingo will know that Tren de la Fresa translates to ‘Strawberry Train’, named after the train’s prior use for bringing Aranjuez’s strawberry harvest into Madrid.
It was then, singing along to “tren de la fresa, tren de la fresa, baila sin parar y mueve la cabeza”, that I realised that even the silliest of plans are made great by the company of good friends. Whether it be munching on fresh strawberries, singing a cheesy song, or jumping across the jittery platforms between old train wagons, we’ve to take life —and health and safety— a little bit less seriously.
