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Describe the sights and sounds of an enchanted journey. A whistle blew from somewhere out of sight. It pierced the still cold air like a gunshot.

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GCSE Coursework Describe the sights and sounds of an enchanted journey. The station was full of people, each eager face looking expectantly at the large glass clock that hung over the platform. Its frost-covered face read eight-fifty-five in the morning, only five minutes to go. I knew it wouldn't be late; Norwegian trains never are. The early morning light that hung over us seemed to sharpen every detail of the old station, so that every bolt and brick were as clear to me from twenty feet away as if I were a whisper away from them. It was still very cold; I clung to my coat as tightly as I could, trying desperately to stop heat escaping. Six-inch icicles were dotted along the platform roof; where they caught the light they burnt with a sudden ferocity that put me in mind of storybook fairies, their shimmering bodies dancing in the pale dawn. A whistle blew from somewhere out of sight. It pierced the still cold air like a gunshot. The sound of screeching brakes seemed to pull on my every nerve like fingernails on chalkboard, and we were bathed in thick white clouds of steam which gleamed with a luminescent brightness as it met the frozen air, before dissipating into nothingness. ...read more.


No sooner had I found them and put them on I became aware of the change in temperature. It was much colder here; my breath had turned to ice on the windowpane. Wiping it away with my sleeve I was met with an alien landscape of wild impenetrable forests, their sprawling mass clung to the sides of steep jagged mountains whose peaks were lost in shadow. I couldn't hear anybody moving in the compartments next-door, so as quietly as I could I got up, made some tea and wrapped myself in a warm thick blanket, and then sat down to watch the dawn unfold. The stars and moon still hung in the Egyptian-blue sky, reluctant to relinquish night to day. The ashen glow of the crescent moon remained defiant even as the suns light began to creep over the distant mountain tops, extinguishing the stars. Subdued, her pale face began to sink into the horizon as her vanquisher's head reared; his magnified light began to warm my frozen features, and day had begun. As the morning wore on and people began to stir from their bunks, their muffled voices carried through the wall and washed over me, pulling me out from my quiet reverie. The metallic clatter of wheels and shuddering of cutlery came closer and closer, until finally it stopped with a soft screech outside my compartment. ...read more.


In the distance was the bay of Troms� and the twinkling lights of the town shining out over the water. I watched as the surrounding passengers began to stir from the collective stupor that so often takes hold on long journeys, gather their things and talk excitedly of the promise of hot dinners and their waiting beds. I picked up my now toasty-warm bag from beside the radiator and made my way back outside to the deck to watch the town approach. The wind had died and all was calm. Alone, I stood on the deck facing the steadily advancing town. The snow-covered church spires, stark against the shallow roofs of the town, were illuminated from below with lamps. I watched as the brightly-lit bridge crawled into sight, its glowing pillars spanning the fjord which penetrated Troms�. Then, from behind a crouching mountain, the green bands of the Aurora came into view. Their presence filled all the heavens, from horizon to horizon. Twisting and turning they hugged the mountains that bordered the town, like giant streaks of paint cast with a lazy hand against the dark canvas of the evening sky. Silently they danced, incalculable amounts of energy spent without a whisper. Pale green curtains of dazzling liquidity hung over the landscape, and through their timeless rhythm mellow stars shone. With a little bump the ship docked and the spell was broken. I had arrived. ...read more.

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