The Wabbit resumed his vacation but refused to take the bus.
"I’ll take the Big Red Train" he said to himself and he picked out a
seat, paid his fare and propelled himself along the platform. It wasn’t that
the Wabbit didn’t like having vacations. He just knew that something always
happened and he would have to work. He hesitated to call this a busman’s
holiday for obvious reasons. The last time he went by bus it took him home and
then he had lots and lots to do. "I want to relax," thought the Wabbit.
"I want to read a puzzle magazine and figure things out." The Wabbit
especially liked complicated puzzles, where the reader had to think through a
location, making correct assumptions. It was like real life but without
ramifications. The Wabbit hoped his journey would be ramification free. So
he clutched his Settimana Enigmistica to his chest like a
talisman. As long as the puzzles stayed inside the magazine, he would have no
trouble. "OK," mused the Wabbit. "If you
drive the train from Rome to Turin, and 22 people get off at Milan and 2 get
in, then the train stops at Bologna and 7 get in and 2 hop off, then another 15 join the train when it stops at Florence, and then after 5 hours the train
stops in Rome, what’s the name of the driver?" The Wabbit knew
the answer so he giggled and hopped on the train.