Eventually we crossed a plank over a narrow ditch, made our way across a grassless yard and entered a four-storey building that looked only half-finished. A cement mixer was standing by the stairwell. I was beginning to have my doubts. This was just the place for an ambush.
In Bill Bryson's "Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe," the author describes an unsettling journey as he navigates a construction site. He crosses a precarious plank over a narrow ditch and walks through a yard devoid of grass, leading him to a four-storey building that appears unfinished. His observations about the surroundings contribute to a growing sense of unease.
As Bryson progresses, he notices a cement mixer near the stairwell, which heightens his apprehensions. The setting feels ominous, prompting him to suspect that this location could be a trap. His reflections capture the tension and uncertainty of travel in unfamiliar environments, emphasizing the potential dangers that lurk in seemingly mundane places.
