The man was reading El Pais. I assumed he was Spanish and imagined him a few hundred years ago wearing the uniform of a conquistador. He may of course have been a Jesuit.
There was no way of telling.
Elsewhere in the compartment sat a few people in varying states of bedraggledness and a woman of indeterminate age. I wasn’t sure whether she was looking good or good looking. It was all a matter of perspective.
The train driver was also a woman.
I was only physically there.