Venice to Ljublana--Like totally

The endless ennui of waiting at the Venice station finally ended. What I saw of Italy this morning I didn't like--graffiti everywhere and rundown. This leg, after backtracking out of Venice and looping north, has been nothing short of gorgeous. My quiet enjoyment is tempered by confusion and annoyance. I'm having a hard time figuring out why there is a large group of college kids heading to freaking Ljubljana, Slovenia. A big factor in this destination was the fact that its off the beaten path. Ive never heard "like" so many times in my life. Four girls are directly behind me all talking over one another in a cacophony of competing inanities.
What is worse--the constantly jabbering mother and grandmother (in what I guess is Hebrew) or these girls? At least the "like" girls are staying put--the other pair was constantly moving around. I escaped to an empty pack of seats, leaving a poor old man to deal with them himself. One hell for another I guess.
Earnest Hemingway drove an ambulance along the Soca River Valley front during WWI, eulogizing it forever in A Farewell to Arms. As the train chugs along through the lower Alpine forests and along mountainside curves offering breathtaking valley views, it reminds me somewhat of the drive on 540 to NWA. Thoughts of Hemingway and home offer a little respite from the no longer sober group of girls.