Junkyard Quote One Week Five

The train station at Borgo Nuovo is not a train station. Its more of a bench with an awning that holds a do-it-yourself ticket kiosk and validater. To say that this was the sticks-an understatement. This place, this train stop, was Bowdon's bastard brother. Tucked further up the mountain, in the foothills of the unknown, hides a restaurant that will render even the professional wordsmith speechless. The wine flows freely, everyone laughs and sings along offkey to the open mic artist who stands in front of the bar. Plate after plate of lasagna and wild boar, potatoes and cheese from goats and cows. Its a place where its 30 euro a head...if you're friends.