|This must be the bus.|
|Apparently Shakespeare moves furniture.|
55 miles to tunnel at 5:00.
I get off the bus and hustle to the rest stop. My stomach is rumbling and I need to go the bathroom badly. I'm halfway across the parking lot when I realize that I left the phone in the seat pocket of the bus. After a moment's hesitation, I decide to leave the phone for the moment and come back when I'm not about to faint or pee in my pants.
|Poor Victor Hugo.|
|Self-portrait at the Gare Cafe. Please feed me now.|
After scarfing down the food, I go back to bus to fetch the phone. And it's not there. I stick my hand into the seat pocket thinking maybe I'm just hallucinating and my hand comes out the other end. It's open at the bottom. Apparently, it's not a pocket, just a big piece of elastic. And it's empty. I look on floor, nothing. The phone is gone.
I ask bus driver if anyone has given him a phone. I look around the bus some more. The bus driver looks around the floor with me. No phone. I feel it must be somewhere and try not to be too worried. Probably it’s just kicking around somewhere.
Everyone in the front of the bus looks on the floor for my phone. Muslims, lesbians and all. Only my seat mate doesn’t move. He looks out the window and at his watch. I wonder if he took my phone out of that elastic thing? Sigh, I guess I’ll never know. There’s a photo I wish I had, but besides that, I guess I can find another phone, though not an iPhone. Can’t afford it.
I'm worried about meeting up with Z in Berlin without a phone. I open my computer to see if there might be internet and of all things, there was. We chat via Facebook. I inform him that my phone is lost and we're at least an hour late.
The chatty girls in the row across from me start up a conversation with the bus driver. He's from Bilbao. I learn later that he is indeed Basque. The girls have never heard of Bilbao or Basque Land so he fills them in a little. I find it interesting that the Basques were famous for being at the helm of ships throughout the age of exploration and here's this Basque guy who seems to be following in those footsteps in a 21st century way. He's about to quit his job as a bus driver and enroll in a course on the logistics of transporting things.
The bus is finally given a green light and we start moving again, but we don't go through the tunnel in any usual way. Instead, the bus squeezes inside a train, which transports it through the tunnel. Ahead of us is a small car filled with a lifetime supply of toilet paper.
|The bus somehow squeezes into this transport train to go through the tunnel.|
|Basque bus driver taking a break inside the tunnel train.|
|Selfie inside the tunnel train.|
|Let me guess. We must be in France.|
|Bus emerging from the train.|
|Edward Hopper-esque rest stop in Belgium.|
|Dawn on the bus, chatty girls are sleepy.|