Day 3 in Bucharest

After dropping our bags off at the train station in the morning, fools that we are, we walked to the British Library in the sweltering heat and arrived sweatballs. After talking to a few helpful but befuddled Romanians, we came to the sad realization that the library had nothing, We were directed to two other libraries, but by the time we reached one, it had closed. Thus ended our fruitless hunt. Some days the nonsense sings for us; some days it flisters. The only nonsense we found today was the questionable shop name, pictured above.

In despair, we went for a lovely drink at the remote and tropical Piranha Club (complete with exotic aviaries, pools full of Piranhas, and huts on stilts), went back to the Gare du Nord (train station) and hopped into our fairly cushy cabin—or would be cushy if the air conditioning had been working. At one point around 11pm, the furrowed-browed border police came down the hall, knocking on doors, asking for passports. After a quick search in various pockets and socks Kevin took off for the bathroom at the end of the train car. It seems that, in a move of incalculable confidence, fortitude, and benevolent cross-cultural understanding, he had left his wallet, passport, a small stack of receipts, and a pile of change, all in a wee pyramidal formation in the bathroom at the end of the car, on a shelf next to the toilet under the sink. He thinks he’s losing his mind. We report, you decide.

Lastly, a quick mention of a new song borne: It's called "Das vedanya/pork and beans," features me and Kevin on vocals, me on the jaw harp, and the train on... the track. Wondering ears will know of it and others before the space ships land.