Train station platforms are considerably lower in Italy, trains are reliably late. As you are patiently waiting, absorbing your surroundings in the penetrating warmth of the mediterranean sun, do not be fooled. Your brain has not been fried to the point of distortion, your eyes are not deceiving you in some sort of twisted mirage. That is most definitely not a log on the train line, nor a disgarded Mars bar. That my friend is a train line truffle of the highest order- an undeniably steaming, stinking TURD OF MAN!
Let this serve as a lesson to you...NEVER EVER EVER FLUSH THE TOILET WHEN THE TRAIN IS PULLED INTO A STATION (it may be big, depending on the length of journey, but it is most certainly not clever).
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