The railway station stinks. Literally.

“Lia, I hate you already”

We hopped off the train for the third time, looking for 3A. Inside the train? Didn’t look very reassuring. It was a sleeper – but having no trains in Lebanon and having only been in Turkish metros, I didn’t know what to expect. I dragged my luggage (packed by Nick who preached traveling super light) through a narrow alley of Indian feet dangling on the sides.

“Lia, I really really hate you” Continue reading “Day 25: Are we there yet ? (1)”