All being well, we'll be off to Prague tomorrow - and I'm starting to pack.

Why can I never pack properly? Either I arrive at my destination with too few clothes of too many. So either I'm stuck in the same three things all the time (like when I went to Bosnia for a five day conference with all my nice business suits - and ended up living in the two cotton dresses I'd chucked into my bag at the last minute because it was so amazingly hot.

Then last year I ended up dragging half my wardrobe over to Germany via Prague - I was adequately clothed - but the journey nearly killed me.

I was travelling to a remote place called Seinhennersdorf in Wast Germany - right on the borders of Czechoslovakia and Poland, in the Zittau mountains. I flew via Prague (I'd done Berlin before). And I had my large heavy bag - and Millie, my faithful laptop.

I landed, and cleared customs with 40 minutes to catch my train. No problem. I wandered over to the information desk and asked where the station was.

In the city, I was told cheerfully. Did I want to catch a bus?

My eyes bulged slightly.

They checked my details. Oh, they said. That was the other atation. The one on the far side of Prague.

I ran out - as fast as I could run with my huge suitcase and grabbed the first taxi I could find. I told him my destination. I told him the departure time.

His eyes bulged.

He was terrific.. He threw me and the case into the car and set off through rush hour Prague. We passed landmarks (dazzling fast). He called out their names to me. I nodded and cheered.

He dropped me off with ten minutes to spare, and both of us glowing with satisfaction. I went to the ticket desk.

Then I went to the international train ticket desk. I asked for Seinhennersdorf.

Where?

I had to change trains in Dresden - could I buy a ticket for Dresden? Oh yes.

Well, a least that put me in the right country ...

The train was amazing. Not because it was luxurious or swish - just because of its route. It started out, I think, in Sofia ... then wound its way through Plovdiv, Bucharest, Budapest, Prague ... up to Dresden ... Berlin ... It was like a litany of the Hapsburg and German Empires ... a itinerary of romance.

And border guards. I like border guards on trains ... it gives you a real sense of travelling. The Czech ones were nice, but a little alien. The Germans, of course are (despite cinematic history) one of us. Our Europe. Euro-land.

That had a reassuring feel.

At Dresden, buying the ticket was no problem. But ... it meant hauling the huge case up and down several flights of stairs.

And so a little commercial train chugging through the night ... stopping at every wayside halt. It was rather exciting - especially as I could only hope the hotel would remember to meet me. They did - and took me to a lovely hotel, the core of which was a C14th converted inn ...

But the journey home ...