It’s a slow Sunday afternoon in Colombo, and I’m wandering through side streets and back alleys, enjoying the different styles of life visible over walls and around corners. Then I hear it, the “hoot” of a train horn, and off I am, in a mad dash to the train station.
That “hoot” signals the arrival of a train, a local commuter train and I am gonna jump on for a ride. See, as much as I fly, I really don’t like traveling that way. What, with the dry air, cramped space, and checked baggage intrigue, airplanes have none of my love.
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