The Best

Nikki and I have just stepped off of the 6th of what will be 7 trains connecting the distant places of Poperinge Belgium, a small hop-growing town and WW1 battle front in West Flanders, and Pescara Italy on the coast of the Adriatic sea. After a pilgramage to the secluded Trappist monastery of Westvleteren for what is widely called the best beer in the world, Nikki and I returned to Brusells for the afternoon to await our overnight train to Milano. Our route required a change of trains in Frankfurt Germany at midnight, and due to a mistranslation somewhere, we missed our train. We were then booked on a train through the swiss alps to Basel, where we were promptly charged 75$ a piece for not having the right papers or tickets despite the assurances of our angry german train person that we would be fine. After sleeping that off, we stepped into the velveteen air of the ungodly milan train station filled with sweating, smoking people, standing in lines longer than the trains they were waiting on, under the shade of the fascism saturated neo-classical/modern train station, sans- airconditioning. Half of the ticket machines were out of order, and one supposedly worked although it did not accept any form of currency or card. Luckily we found a machine that did, bought tickets for the first train to Bologna, where I am now at an internet cafe drinking cold fizzy water in the blasting cooled air. In a few hours Nikki and I will take our final train for the day to Pescara, after sampling some of the legendary cuisine of Bologna. Ciao.