Traveling by train as a risky sport

PalmIn time, both in informal conversations and in formal conversations, some of us will be able to say: "I took the train on July 30, 2025." This Wednesday was the day a derailment complicated life for resigned commuters, who filed through the stations and carriages with sour faces, but in a civilized manner and without causing a fuss, with patience.

Some things are unavoidable. For example, solving a derailment takes time, a lot of time. But others must be done properly, and one of the common problems with trains in Mallorca is that commuters are routinely not informed. When the Mallorca Railway Service (SFM) spoke of a fifteen-minute delay, it was actually more than an hour. I know this because it was the delay I had when I arrived in Palma, while I read that the delay was only a few minutes.

I was supposed to catch the 2:48 p.m. train, which arrived at 3:25 p.m. At the station, everyone squeezed so close to the door that the people getting off could barely step out of the car. Once inside, it felt like a game of musical chairs, with people everywhere fighting for the best spot amidst the shouts of someone on the phone explaining that everything was a disaster and they didn't know when they'd arrive.

I positioned myself in the last car, behind a baby stroller and next to a woman using a walker. I hid as much as I could, while at each station many more people than usual boarded, forming a wall that didn't allow me to see anything beyond my book. Not a smile, not a friendly face. Someone was blowing, while another stared into space, I suppose imagining a better life than being trapped in a sardine tin clinging to other bodies. Now, here we must give a major shout-out to the passengers' behavior: not a single whiff of aerophagia or sweat. Because the stench doesn't help in extreme circumstances.

The climax arrived at Santa Maria station, where we stood for almost half an hour—there was a single-track section, and the oncoming train had to pass first—during which time the train filled up to the point where it felt like a contest to determine the limits of space. Three bicycles even boarded, which the passengers let pass by clinging even tighter to one another.

The arrival in Palma was epic, with so many people waiting for the train that you couldn't even see which station we were at. The driver came out onto the platform, booing to let the people inside out—we'd earned it!—while those who wanted to get in looked at us with a mixture of fear and anger. Just when the woman with the walker was thinking she might have to stay on the train because she had no way out, a young woman took her arm while I made room with the walker in my hands, like a circus tamer. The three of us ended up sweating on the platform, said our goodbyes, and continued on our way. See you next time.