I’ve been out of town for two days, on a short holiday, to visit my friend. Since I can’t afford buying a plane ticket I had to go by train, but that didn’t decrease my enthusiasm (trains represent my favorite method of transportation). Of course, just like Superman isn’t perfect (he wears his underwear over the trousers, for crying out loud), rail systems also have their downsides.

The first train I took was packed with people. For some damn, unknown reason, there were more children that I’ve seen in a long while, almost all of them carrying backpacks. School starts in three weeks here, so I’m pretty sure they weren’t shopping for supplies. Imagine their behemothic, bulky, filled-to-the-brim-with-God-knows-what backpacks, squashing me between them and the window, making train traveling a pain. Those are usually the same kids that occupy all the good seats in the cafeteria, sit in front of you during classes (making impossible for anyone sitting behind them to see beyond their large heads), or stand in big groups in front of the Biology Club classroom, before it even opens. End of rant, back on topic.

The next train was acceptable, to a certain extent. Someone’s sneeze immediately triggered a chain reaction, resulting in a symphony of sounds floating around me, consisting in more sneezes, coughs, scratchings, and I’m pretty sure that I heard a fart at some point. It was like someone had let loose a secret code, which stated something along the lines of:

Since you people are too shy to begin, I’ll start and you can follow after.

The first stop implied waiting for two and a half hours for the next train to arrive. Since I needed to keep myself awake the whole night, I went to a coffee machine and ordered a hot chocolate. An old lady started staring as soon as I took the steaming drink from the automaton, then asked me what is that machinery, with a bewildered look on her face. I tried my best to accurately explain to her how it works, at which point she begs me to buy her one as well. I told her that she would need money for it to work.

But I haven’t got any.

Sorry, ma’am, but I’m not a public asylum. And before you start judging me, I think it’s best to let you know that she was not homeless. The rest of the trip was almost free of unpleasant happenings, with the exception of the last train I took, on the way home – its locomotive went through a breakdown in the middle of nowhere, somewhere on an abandoned field, leaving us stuck in some overly-crowded, wrecked compartments for almost an hour and a half.

Long post is now completed.