A puddle in Venice
Venice Travel Blog› entry 3 of 13 › view all entries
This phrase left my mouth only nanoseconds after sitting in a deep puddle of liquid laying in ambush on the seat in the waiting room of the train terminal, in Venice. Someone had spilled some liquid ,or otherwise defiled the plastic bowl shaped seat that I decided to sit in. It's a good thing I had my suitcase with several changes of clothing in it. Now, where to change? I found a semi deserted end of the track and swallowed my pride and stripped out of my pants and changed.
What was this liquid anyway. I smelled it.
It may have been pee.
This journey wasn't starting out on the right foot.
I left Philly Monday night, and the flight was
I thought I would sit in the waiting room and compose this diatribe when “chair of liquid” made its presence known.
All better now. I'm in a nice 2nd class compartment on the train, sharing it with a Persian family who asked me if I spoke German. “Nine.....English” “Where from?” the father asked. “The United States” I replied
“Yes. Are you German?” I asked.
“No. From Iran.” (a pause) “Sorry” he added.
“Me too.” I said.
One thing we had in common these days. Europeans don't think too highly of either of either of our leaders.
I have a couple of hours until the train arrives in Villach, so I think I'll take a nap, and resume the next installment later.