Saturday, 30 July 2011
But then I had to go to the train station to arrange my ticket to Barcelona, and that wasn’t fun. I was directed – directed, mind you – to go to a line, where I waited patiently for an hour, before it was my turn at the front. Where I learned I was in the wrong line. There was a special line for Eurail pass holders – which wasn’t all that “special” for me, since it meant I got to wait for another hour and a half in an entirely different line. And pay 75 euro for an overnight berth at the end of it.
By the time I left, I wanted to flog little children, in the street, for no reason. Just like everyone does, from time to time.