Roman Holiday

Yesterday, endured a 6-hour train journey, three of those spent standing up, right in front of the handicapped toilet. Thank you last-minute cheap ticket, re-servicing of Scottish trains, and suicidal man for making the journey memorable. There was a woman who had brought her toddler son into the toilet with her, then her son pushed the door open button and the handicapped bathroom door slowly and painfully swivelled open, exposing her derrier to a few unfortunate passengers, and her sheepishly apologizing, pants around her ankles, to the few that saw. "Thanks, Max, my ass is hanging for the train to see," she said half to us and half to her son as the door slowly and painfully shut again, all of us trying to avoid her gaze and hide our smiles. There was some scolding and shouting after the door shut again, followed by wailing by the toddler Max. "I guess that's why you have children," she said later, exiting the stall, "so they can embarass you." Awesomus Maximus.

Why was I standing in fron to of the toilet? There were no seats anywhere. For about an hour and a half, it was actually so crowded that I was wedged between two suitcases, so that when people tried to move through to the diner car, since all refreshment trolleys were suspended due to the crowding, I couldn't actually shift my body anywhere, but told people to just shove through and step over me.

And that, was the beginning of my 'Easter holidays.' (Sounds so much more refined than 'spring break.') I may or may not be updating for the next week. Hopefully, I can get into countries ok and visas don't stop me. We'll see. I'm sure there will be disastrous stories somewhere, waiting for me to set them in motion.