The Una railway line was once the lifeline of this region. Seventy trains in twenty-four hours, waiting rooms full of workers, stations that knew by heart the schedule of every passing train. Today, weeds and thorns grow into the tracks, and on some stations it is easier to stumble upon a wild animal than a human being.
The photographs record what remains: rusted infrastructure, abandoned platforms, rooms where time has stopped. A pre-war timetable still hangs on the wall. An old telephone still sits on the desk. Somewhere, a man still comes in for his shift, even though the trains stopped running long ago.
The line still stands. Waiting in some places, falling apart in others — much like the people alongside it.
