Rice fields, toylike pickup trucks and elegant thatched rooves, the features foreign but the experience somewhat familiar. We pass through a grove and the sea appears, next to me. Gentle waves crash on porous rocks and somewhere, far past the blurred horizon are whispers of Russia.

Kururi trickles, drops, and plucks, a flock of small birds take off from a bushy dune. The train punches through a series of mountains and I flick through my travel playlist, searching for something fresh that suits my mood. The girl sitting next to me gets up and heads to the next car and I land on Coltemonikha, the train breaks back into daylight and waves crash just meters off to my left.

The reverb hangs around forever like a haze, the drum machines pop and synthetic cymbals crackle, rising to a rush and everything falls silent for a measure until Kate Sakai’s windy, sampled voice draws my heart back into cocoon.