Abstract:
Minus 34 and a few minutes to midnight – so said the station clock and thermometer. At the appointed hour, we joyously popped a champagne bottle, necked it and staggered about, yelling ‘Happy New Year’ to an empty, icy railway platform. The Chinese conductor wasn’t quite sure what to make of us – a Mongolian, a Swede, a Dane, an Australian and a few Russians leaping, laughing, sloshing champagne and slipping on the ice. Meanwhile my nostril hairs had frozen, the liquid in my eyes had became thick and viscous and the piss I tried to do in the corner froze before it hit the ground.
Details / PDF:
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