I had rather thought that this anorakish pursuit of trainspotting would be restricted to Britain or America. I was wrong. Here I am in the Czech Republic and there they are, two huge cameras with long lenses in-hand, they even have a small stepladder on which they stand to take their photos. They have clearly been delighted at the arrival of my little train (it's the one to be seen exiting the above photograph), as they are still photographing it as I walk up the path. They have just started to pack up when a train whistle from the opposite direction stops them in their tracks. Oh the joy of it! They rush towards the station in order to get photographs on the second train.
I take a photo of them and walk on. I pass their car on my home, in their excitement they have left a door open. On the dashboard is a list with the first six items crossed off, on the seat a fat timetable book. I glance back, the car has a German number plate. I cannot see the attraction of chasing around the Czech countryside to cross numbers off a list. Obsessively picking mushrooms or spotting wildflowers on the other hand make absolute sense.