I think my biggest problem with communal transport is all the others. I’m certain that’s what Sartre meant by “L’enfer, c’est les autres,” and I’m also convinced I can find traces of the same sentiment in the works of Camus, de Beauvoir and Kierkegaard – I mean, read Diaphsalmata and tell me it’s not about the dread of getting up and on the bus. I may not be no fancy big-city unemployed literary expert, but it is my clear impression (ha!) that existentialism at its core is a comment on public transport.

I’m looking forward to getting my bike back later today. I’m not sure the train is good for whatever little is left of my sanity.