Welcome to Cannes, where the idle rich luxuriate and vaporize large sums of their money, all in shocking disregard for struggling backpackers. While beach chairs and umbrellas rent for €30 outside the Cannes Inter-Continental (€400 and above per night), the sand on the free slice of beach, with the backpacking, pasta-and-sauce eating, tap-water-drinking proletariat, is every bit as nice.
Amidst the continuous flow of trains, people and cargo (living and otherwise) in and out of the New Delhi Railway Station, some trains fill and wait. And wait.
A monstrous day of travel brought me from the Sahara desert oasis town of Tozeur back to the Mediterranean’s capital of apathy and pissedoffedness: Athens, Greece.
An eastbound train leaving Bessarion station on the “new” Sheppard line. I guess after being open 11 years, it’s not really that new, but it’s still new to…