I wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.
Not without a Santa hat.
So I went to a bazaar around the corner from my hotel, which was where I bumped into the next president of the United States of America:
…but it turned out to be just a wealthy chicken.
I left the president/chicken and proceeded to buy a Santa hat (two actually). And because it was too small (or maybe my head was just too big), I went to a tailor shop and had it fit:
Everyone thought I was very goofy, which was fair enough.
I then realized that I needed new elastic straps to fix my backpack on top of the Caboose. So I asked around at the bazaar:
But no one had them.
Hm, I thought.
Then I went to a car bazaar:
I was hoping to find them there:
I found a bunch of German-looking things:
And a bunch of shiny things:
In the end I took home two elastic straps that weren’t quite what I was looking for. They seemed a bit too short, but I really didn’t want to look around anymore.
I wanted to go back to the newly remodeled Caboose and decorate her with a little red bell I had bought:
And with a blue bell:
And with a Santa:
When I went back out again I noticed this poster:
Angry Santa! I thought, have you come to take care of that fucking chicken for us?