Choices.

Those Seattlites love a fully loaded stall. Options baby, options.

World-class amenities.

WC. Food. Ice Cream. Camel.

What more could I ask for?

Point of view.

The best seat at sea is often in the pisser.

Resonance and reverberation.

A tribute to the creepiest place on earth: the Ploce train station.

With only a handful of daily trains passing through, it was deserted. One word epitomizes the atmosphere. Echo.

The acoustic in this place were stunning. Every word spoken, every shoe scraping across the floor, and every tap of a pen on a cold, plastic table echoed throughout the station with stunning clarity. Snap your fingers and you'd think an army was tap dancing in. Click your heels and you'd instantly take the train to Kansas and back, umpteen times.

So imagine the glorious symphony of bathroom sounds. Ricocheting urine, repetitive flatulence, or the infamous waterfall flush summoning impending Armageddon.

The desolate cart toilet was out of order, and the actual toilets, located to the left of the carts, were so special that I've since blacked them out of my memory.

Disappointment.

Rest stop closed? Guess I'll just go in the grass next to my car.

Tough stains, no more!

Makes cleanup a cinch.

Are those fold down arm rests?