This is an autobiographical journey through Italy, reminded train station after train station by a child who grew up on the trains (also because his father did not have a car and a driving licence.)
It is a journey behind the panorama, as the railways enter the cities from the back door and make it possible to look at the country behind the wings, not only as it will appear.
It is a journey through time, in order to measure a real change, the triumph of the private sector on the public one and the hard transformation of the railway system, which long remained at same level while around everything was changing. Through forced modernisation the system tried to recover the lost time, fastening everything, changing velocity, identity, look.
The managers’ task was to transform the user in client…special creatures with private cars, private planes, private ships and trains…
There’s nothing to do, there’s no need for a private train. Even if born as a private mean of transport, it will keep on being a public transport facility driving on the left side. There’s no ideological reason for that, but if a train has to move on its right railway it is called a train marching on the illegal railway. It’s just a technical expression, but it becomes a suggestion for the narration.