Why Train Travel Inspires the Writer (and Daydreamer) in Me

It was a quiet morning at KL Sentral when I boarded the ETS train bound for Sungai Petani, my hometown. The kind of morning where the world feels a little slower, the air smells faintly of kopi, and you’re secretly hoping the seat next to you stays empty. As the train pulled away from the bustling station, a comforting rhythm settled in, and with it, an unexpected sense of calm.

I’m not a writer by trade (or even by hobby), but something about that journey made my mind wander in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

Staring out the window, watching the cityscape dissolve into stretches of palm oil plantations and kampung houses, I found myself lost in thought. What is it about train travel that unlocks parts of us we usually keep tucked away? By the time the train reached its first stop, I was daydreaming – about the stories of the strangers on board, the lives unfolding beyond the glass, and even the idea of writing it all down.

That’s when it hit me: train travel isn’t just a way to get from point A to point B. It’s a muse on wheels.

The Poetry of Motion

Train travel moves at a pace that feels deliberate, though the ETS train I was on didn’t come with the nostalgic click-clack-click of older railways. The modern hum of its electric engine accompanied smooth transitions from cities to towns, and towns to fields. Each station felt like a chapter break, and every view out the window added a new scene.

The train’s voiceover announcing the “final destination” had me jokingly wondering if I’d get off alive.

On this journey, the train crossed the serene waters of Bukit Merah Lake in Perak. The lake’s vast expanse seemed to stretch time itself, offering reflections of the sky that made me pause. Even the sight of kampung houses nestled in the greenery felt like poetry, their simplicity speaking volumes. This stretch of the journey reminded me that ordinary moments hold extraordinary beauty when seen through a train window.

And that beauty always nudges me to write – or at least to think about writing.

A Sanctuary for Reflection

Trains create a space that feels set apart from the rest of life. It’s not quite the same as sitting in a car or on a plane. On a train, you’re surrounded by movement but don’t have to navigate it yourself. You’re free to let your mind wander. It’s almost meditative.

During that ETS journey, I remember noticing things I’d usually overlook – the way the sun cast long shadows over the fields, the stillness of a small pond reflecting the sky. Somehow, being on a train slows everything down, even your thoughts. And in that slowness, ideas take shape. Questions I hadn’t asked myself in months came bubbling up: What if I took this moment to pursue something creative? What stories am I leaving untold? The train didn’t give me answers, but it gave me time to think. And that felt like a gift.

Encounters and Eavesdropping

One of my favorite parts of train travel is the people you meet – or don’t meet. Sometimes, it’s the briefest of interactions that stick with you. On that trip, my mother and I swapped seats to sit together. My mother negotiated with the stranger beside me, but it turned out the seat beside her was empty all along. This small shuffle made me notice others doing the same.

I overheard an elderly couple a few rows ahead had a brief argument about a bag hanging out of the overhead compartment. The wife’s quiet mumbling and the husband’s sharp tone made it impossible not to grin.

A little later, I saw another couple take out their food after hearing the noise my mother and I made while unwrapping the buns we brought for lunch. The crinkle of plastic and the soft thud of our water bottle seemed to act as a signal, inspiring a mini feast a few rows away.

Moments like these – small, human, and shared – add texture to the journey. These fleeting connections, whether through observation or overheard snippets, stay with you. They’re stories in their own right, waiting to be noticed and, perhaps, written down.

The Allure of the Unknown

There’s a special kind of magic in heading somewhere new on a train. Even if it’s a route you’ve taken before, it feels different each time. Maybe it’s the light, the weather, or the company in the carriage. Every journey has an air of possibility.

On the ride to Sungai Petani, I found myself wondering about the lives of people in the houses we passed. Who lives there? What are their mornings like? It’s easy to romanticise when you’re looking from a distance, but that’s part of the fun. Trains turn the ordinary into something extraordinary simply by framing it through a window.

A Muse in Motion

Train travel has a way of making me feel more connected to my surroundings and to myself. Maybe it’s the simplicity of it – no traffic, no airport queues, no rush. It’s just you, the train, and the journey.

I’ve often thought about how many great writers were inspired by trains. Agatha Christie wrote about mysteries on the Orient Express. J.K. Rowling famously dreamed up the idea for Harry Potter during a train ride when her mind wandered and sparked something magical. I’m no Christie, or Rowling, but when I’m on a train, I feel like I could be. And maybe that’s enough.

So, the next time you’re planning a trip, consider taking the train. Pack a notebook or just let your mind wander. Who knows? You might find a story waiting for you, too. Or at the very least, you’ll have a relaxing journey – and maybe a funny anecdote about the conductor’s overly enthusiastic announcements about scenic stops.