American Wasteland
As we travel further into the wilds of America the Slavic language spoken in the area sounds more alien. No-one is going to speak English here - we need a phrase book to get by. Our hybrid bus-train drops us off at a motel. Inside I wander down the usual narrow corridors. I try greeting the proprietor in Polish, because that's the most eastern language I know a few words of. I realise I needn't have bothered - on the doors everything is in German and English.
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