Today, I check it out the former foreign land. There are fist-sized rocks along many parts of the railway track, sometimes level with the sleepers, sometimes on the sleepers. The ground between the sleepers isn't always even either.
Besides rocks, I see bleached bones of small animals. Some are almost intact, perhaps a dog crouched by the rails to die. Sometimes, the bones are scattered, a skull here, a jaw bone there, bleached white in the sun. There's a snake, decomposed, with its skull showing and the rest of the body in slimy black. In some places, broken glass is strewn all over the track.
Bleached bones, glittering glass and hopeless hope. Despite the picturesque way, this is way harder than I thought. I almost derail several times. It's taken longer too. Time for water rationing. My rest stops become too frequent for my liking. Time to give up. I look for a way out and am on my way out when I stop. I'm near the end of myself, but maybe I'm near the end. If I tough it out a bit more ... and look for signs that the way will become easier.
Some metres ahead, the way does look easier. No more fist-sized rocks. And the journey ends soon enough.
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