Faceplant
It is safe to say that we are extremely close to a point of physical and emotional ruin. Things are so bad that we have even managed to get Rdoc to enter a McDonalds, he won’t buy anything but the combined attractions of warmth, a seat and free wifi are hard to resist. I can feel tics running around my face from tiredness and frustration. Since leaving Suzdal nice and early with the hope of timing the bus to Vladimir would match up with a train to Nizhny Novgorod which in turn would be convenient for a transfer on down to Kazan where there would be affordable and luxurious accommodation in plentiful supply. I need to stop daydreaming.
Getting to Nizhny had worked though not quite ideal in that it would have been totally shit if there were no train ticket available but those that were got us and our hopes of possible connections into the city around midnight. It is amazing how you can accept immediate comfort and totally put out of your mind upcoming potential hardships, there was even food provided on the very comfortable train. Maybe not being a sleeper had something to do with it instead we were three in a six seat berth that not only had padding on the seats but TV screens as well showing a quite entertaining rom-com in Russian but easily followable to anyone who has seen one before.
While I am now familiar with the Nizhny Novgorod station to a point that I never would have wished. With no signage leading the way to the usual ticket hall we followed the majority of the crowd out and ended up in what felt more like a booth than what should exist for the fourth largest city in the country. Sometimes not even being Russian can explain the vagaries of the place. Responding to our crestfallen demeanor on the
нет reply to our ticket request a guy our age jumped in to plead our case. Even he got a negative response but an explanation as well that you could not buy tickets until two hours prior to departure which would be 4am. “Why?” we chorused to which he shrugged his shoulders and said “This is Russia, I hope you make it” and left us to set up camp.
With the idea that there had to be something more substantial around and slightly worried about the closing up moves that the staff were making I was sent out into the night to explore. The first shock was that there was frost on the ground as I walked down Sovetskaya ul. past the crowded bus stop and towards what looked like an underpass. A door to my right opened and a man lurched out, missed the step and used his face to meet the frozen pavement a few feet away. All while his friend stood laughing holding the door and a fresh bottle of vodka because of course it was a liquor store, nobody else gave it anything more than a glance. Pulling my hood up I went down the stairs to see where the underpass would lead to, there was another man lying on the landing halfway down a bottle and tattered quilt to protect against the frost. If only we had turned right from the platform exit, then instead of the sights I had just witnessed there would have been a cosmopolitan square outside the most impressive station so far.
Collecting the others, again past the violin player in the underpass, the police moving on the squatter and the pool of blood from the other unfortunate, we found ourselves in a slightly awkward position in the best place for us to wait was the waiting hall but to gain access it was necessary to have a ticket. Not exactly inconspicuous with all our luggage we somehow managed to slip by and find a good stretch of metal chairs out of the way in the back. Now it was just a matter of staying awake, a task helped by the ultra bright fluorescent lighting and the no lying down policy the roaming security enforced. Even nodding off for a bit earned you a good shake. People watching was a good way to stay occupied, most entertaining was watching people try to sleep surreptitiously and how long it would take for them to be interrupted in this.
Self takes, a good way to pass the time.
About 3am it was starting to get really tough and I risked a prod in the ribs by using my day pack as a pillow. For about ten minutes prior to this a kid of about twelve had come and sat right next to Rdoc for no apparent reason. Next thing I noticed was two security guards watching me from the mezzanine floor which I pretended to ignore and carried on writing this until three big uniformed guys came up and made me stand up. Then they said something in Russian which none of us understood followed by a motion which I interpreted as turn around which got me spun back around by the shoulders. Fed up by our ignorance the lead guard took my ipod out of my hand and put it in the back pocket of my jeans, then the other two grabbed the kid by his jacket and removed him from the station.
Ticket time, hooray!
Tags: Kazan, Russia, theft, train, Trans-Siberia
montombo
May 19th, 2009 at 8:05 pm
[…] Faceplant […]