The silver Greyhound slowly pulled back onto the icy highway. It was 9.30 at night, dark and snowing. I was still wearing the same jumper that I put on 3hrs earlier at Calgary and glad that I had my new snow jacket in hand. I slung my pack over my shoulder and made my way across the open snow covered car park, floodlit just enough so that I could make out a few people stumbling about, obviously on their way to a bar. “Hey do you guys know where Charleston is?” I yelled out to them. “Yeah its 200m down the
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