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Schnitzels. Was genau sind sie? Sancho was not enthused by my suggestion that whilst in Austria she find out and powerfully requested a flat white instead. What lamentable folly, what an innocent expectation to be cruelly denied this would be on a British train but the Austrian RailJet did not disappoint.
Our sleek carriage with frankly ergonomic seats and constant cleansing was a match for the Swiss train which currently heads-up the leaderboard. The dining car was calm and spacious. Whilst the Austrians do have a programmable coffee machine the pleasant Austrian in the booth produced steamed and frothed milk for herself’s brew. It met with her approval and my espresso was fairly good although the pair did bite into my cash roll at €7.80. Take That, as the sign said. The dining car had a fairly comprehensive menu and the same pleasant and serene aspect as the rest of the train. Austrians of the normal size came and went about their business. A small Austrian was attached to a table in the dining car by the ingenious means of a clip-on high chair carried by its father. The creature’s small, pleasingly pudgy Austrian hands reached easily across the table, searching for its schnitzels. From the depths of my capricious bean a familiar tune bubbled to the top of mein brain-pan;🎶 ‘Schnitzels are lots of fun/For Girls and Boys and Everyone!/Schnitzels! Schnitzels!’🎶 I really must seek to discover exactly what….
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