Photography Dirty dusk

I hate trains. Public transportation anxiety. Or maybe travelers’ spleen.

I hate trains. Public transportation anxiety. Or maybe travelers’ spleen.
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Reply no.: 2
Point taken, Pulp. Trains’ slowness can — when the planets align right — give rise to stories and memories. I’ve got plenty of those, too, thank God.
But lately that slowness seems to turn into tiredness and spleen only.
pulp:
It’s true, trains are awful: they are filthy, never fast enough, they stop with no reason in the middle of nowhere, the bathroom can’t be used and the temperature is never right.
But, trains can also weave interesting stories.
Recently, I’ve learned how the racing tires are made. I guy from Pirelli told me about the production process, the ingredients used and pictured me how a tire factory works. Some other time, another guy made me laugh for hours with his army tales… An old lady told me once how to work white magic o:-) (too bad I didn’t take any notes :D) The list could go on.
So, from my experience, beyond the dirt, there is always a hidden dusk.