This just triggered the memory of my strangest place - I knew there was one!
I was interrailing (interrail: special train ticket giving the young traveller access to all trains within a certain country or countries) across Spain with two mates and, a couple of days in, I found myself at Madrid train station minus my ticket. Though the ticket is registered on a database with your name on it, it is non-replaceable in case of loss, as I discovered dispite many tears and prayers. Replacing it was unthinkable (300 euros, as I recall, aka all my food money), so I pretty much spent the next two weeks as a stowaway in train toilets in various states of disrepair, all of which air-conditioned me within an inch of my life.
On the longest of those journeys (8 hours, count them, 8), I sat in the locked, rattling toilet of the day and nursed my nerves with Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter"* (which, incidentally, I adored).
*Needless to say, it took me a few years to find that image even remotely amusing.