“There’s the snow you’ve been looking for”
The owner of the cafe said it, I looked out the window and there it was, Snowfall.
My bags packed and loaded up on my shoulders I set out through the heavy snowfall to the bus station. I hadn’t been looking for snow really, it had just eluded me or the winter I spent in Ireland. I was too close to the coast and there was enough wind and rain as it was without ice getting in the mix.
That was my sendoff. I was taking off. It was nearly time to go back to Australia…
Bus stations have no game. Even the crummiest Airports usually have some kind of architectural styling to them, even when they are without, there is the thrill of flight. The miracle of aviation elevates even the most rudimentary runway into something more than its parts.
A train station can be a grand, old fashioned, clean and full of with history. The rail has a romantic nostalgic appeal. The classic mode of travel.
I haven’t been to many ports or harbors. My experiences with them lie in Asia where they were filthy, unorganized and chaotic… I am sure they muster more game than Bus terminals, on personality alone.
Bus terminals haven’t a thing, bar the Coaches themselves.
Apart from hitching or carpooling, it is the most consistently cheap mode of transport throughout Europe for those who plan on the fly.
That’s why I’m such an expert. That’s why I spent my last hours in Ireland in the nicotine stained halls of a Bus Terminal.
Watching the snow falling with the sun…
I’m going to stop writing on this blog now and leave it to the pictures.