More tears as we depart …

… no, not human tears … but tears by Moscow (ie. rain) because we are leaving.

Before we headed for Jaroslavky Station, we did quick walk around Red Square, marveled at St Basil’s and recoiled at the prices in Gum (Moscow’s answer to Harrod’s). 

Tears spread over Red Square ...

De Goin' home after 14 years

Once we got to the station, we sat in the waiting area for 2 hours until our platform number was posted on the gigantic wall that shows the sheer expanse of the Russian Railway system.   The wall shows the major stops with their times zones … running from Moscow time to Moscow + 7 hours in the FER (Far East Russia).

Most of the other people waiting were Russian … with their ubiquitous enormous sacks (like those blue bags you get from IKEA) bungee-corded onto little trolleys.    The only standouts were the 3 members of Russian Triathlon competitors who had bikes and skis rather than swimming costumes and running kit.

Karen looks very nervous but does not attract the attention of the police … they were busy suppressing a bloke at the back of the waiting area … and therefore didn’t notice the puddle forming under Karen.  No, no, no … it’s not what you think!   The puddles were from the melting ice.   The ice was in a shopping bag along with a bottle of champagne that was to be opened once we chugged out of Moscow on the Trans-Siberian.   Drinking out of camping mugs would be ok, but Karen insisted that the champagne be chilled.

Just after 9:00pm, we headed for Platform 3, then to Carriage 9, then to Berths 1 and 2.   Funny how people form different expectations, even though our information was identical.   I immediately thought “Wow, this is bigger and better than I expected” while Karen mumbled “this is smaller than I expected”. 

In any event, we had a cabin to ourselves with bunks, a seat and a shower cubicle that is shared with the adjoining cabin.  Well, technically it’s a wet room with hand basin, out of which a shower tube could be pulled a few inches, and said tube would deliver occasional droplets of tepid water.   It was unlikely to be used by us other than for washing dishes.  

So we squash our wheelie bags under the bottom bunk and make ourselves comfortable just in time for the train to start moving,   Out comes the bubbles and we celebrate till just after midnight.  The insulated mugs are perfect because the barely chilled bubbles stay exactly that way for longer.

Bubbles that dodged customs (and Metro steps) till the Trasn-Siberian ...

De Goin' home after 14 years

Now let’s see if we can sleep in a slow moving bouncing noisy train.