P14 – Tempo ist kein Taschentuch

On the road again through the German boondocks – zero legroom in the metal cage.
Watching a schnozzle nosed mid-sexagenarian peeling a boiled sausage from an oversized vacuum package – rubbish.
I can smell meat, sweat and home-distilled schnapps.
People opposite me are talking in whispers, my seat neighbour jangles his pretzel sticks, and i keep looking for redemption poring over the digital menu.

Amid industrialized regions and the present, upbeat mood and downtime, barking dogs and snoring party animals, we are swaying through the compartments on our way to the last train toilet.
Helpless against the wheels of time, we are passengers whose last resort is to go on travelling?

If I knew that tomorrow the world was to end, today would be a good day to travel.