Sardines

end of day 4.
Picture this scenario: It’s past 10pm. We have just concluded a long day of train hopping, missed connections, delayed trains, and extra-greasy French-fries with who-knows-what-kind-of-meat-sandwiches for dinner.
We are tired, semi-dehydrated and quite disoriented as we step off the train into a whipping cold wind and gaze around for the man from the hostel who had promised to meet us with a vehicle. Since none of the 5 of us can make even a half-decent attempt at pronouncing the name of this town (Gruau im Almtal), we’re anxious to find some friendly, English speaking Austrians.
As we find our guide and ride, we notice that the car looks quite small and cozy for the 5 of us with all our packs, and at the same moment we realize there are 3 other travelers standing behind us, also looking dazed and confused.
Before I realize what’s happening, I’m wedged in the back seat of a European mini-mini-van between Jeanette and a loud Norwegian girl with a pretty scarf, with Chelsea and the Norwegians friend both sharing my lap. On the other side of scarf-girl a skinny 20-something guy from Pennsylvania is crammed next to the door, and in the front seat my two brothers share a space suitable for one small Austrian housewife.
And just like that, we’re off. Zooming in and out of narrow roads in what seemed like a deserted, almost alpine Austrian village, listening to “Mexican Girl” on the radio. A few chuckles and smiling glances from the Norwegians let me know they are friendly enough, and that I shouldn’t be too concerned about sharing this much personal space with them. I grin to myself about how odd the situation is, and settled into the 10-minute seems like 1-hour car ride.
-Kait