About an hour and a half of my train ride today was marred by the presence of a group of about 10-15 football fans—naturally they were drunk and singing football songs in support of their team, something Rostock.
I ignored them until they started beating on the ceiling of the train, which prompted clouds of dust to fall out.
I had to move.
Yuck.
Now that’s just gross.
I’m glad I rode the train Wednesday.