I'm afraid that the facts I mention are much more common than many would like.
Monday morning, about 8:30 am, on the platform 2 of the suburban train station Arc de Triomf. Camino del curro. Kneaded, like all morning, and is seen my natural habitat is under the sheets. Resigned (and, I repeat, very dog-eared, which makes me rather limited amount), mackerel me on the narrow sidewalk toward the provisional output.
Arc de Triomf is one of the oldest stations. I correct: it is one of the stations look more like a relic of the entire network. A barrel vault so narrow, poorly lit that resembles a crypt or catacombs, suffering chronically damp, scrubby platforms and, worst of all, fairly deep and with access only by stairs. Not a lift or a ramp. Stairs. For a year or so is works (well) to make it a exchanger accessible for everyone. Meanwhile, no one pound of those sixty-odd steps (the last section, finally, with an escalator).
If the stairs were already insufficient (for their discomfort and tightness), now at peak accumulation is stifling. The output of the west side (of Paseo de Sant Joan) are closed, and has enabled a single common output to the two platforms and train both the Metro, which is plugged in comes a convoy of Renfe. Or I'll tell you when it matches one of the Metro.
As I was saying: Monday morning at the foot of the first flight of stairs, step costaleros and just in front of me a young woman with a baby carriage prepares to take the car to pulse while people around her and leaves her behind. I approached her and has the following conversation:
Me: - Would you help him up the car? "Ask stupid as they come, the woman is not very high and is painted to have an athletic build.
She: "Yes, thank you very much, I could really use. "It's getting to the side and holding the left side of the car. I reached down and grabbed the frame on the right side. Every morning I raise my own.
Me: I look around and start a casual conversation about the future works and lifts to ease the embarrassment that makes me see how people spend everything. Every morning at rush hour, and all the whores up one morning the car down the stairs, preventing or run over those that push up and the few who dare to fall upstream. So hard and so heavy is not helping to raise a car, and pussy!
