Warsaw to Kiev (2)
Double entry for this leg so that the pictures don't get lost in a mass of words.
I have a reluctance to iPod in situations where I'm 'vulnerable'. Is that the right word? I don't often walk down the street doing it. I didn't feel like wiling away the hours at Wschodnia doing it either. But I did stand on the platform in my hat and gloves and read. But it took hours after I got on the train for my left hand to warm up.
Eventually the train turned up, late but not too bad. 20 minutes.
Now, the carriages have numbers on them and I knew my carriage number. But it all happens so fast... You're disorientated, cold, hungry, sober and desperate. I ran down the train shouting 'FIVE'. Someone pointed all the way down the end of the train. I DID see the sleeper bits of the train and did wonder I why I was running away from them... but I KNOW that trains have corridors, and getting on the wrong bit isn't a big deal. So I just got on. The wrong bit. A Polish, red, passenger carriage. Empty. As soon as I got on, I realized my mistake and engaged the Polish guard in conversation detailing my plight. He indicated I think that I needed to get off 'his' carriage and get onto the sleeper part of the train. I asked how I was going to do this while the train was moving and he made a hand-gesture that was lost on me seeing as I didn't have a Polish phrase-book.
Anyway, I was oK as the train had a corridor. So I walked down to the join. There was a door and it was locked. BUT, there was someone on the other side. So I gesticulated to indicate that I wanted to be ob his side of the door. He understood this perfectly and had obviously seen many a traveler try and 'upgrade' in this fashion before. So he gave me a wry wink and disappeared. Fuck.
No worries. I still had the Universal Dinner Lady on my side [Google 'barefoot doctor'] (I called her up many many times on this trip). I explained that the driver wanted to, needed to, and had to, stop the fucking train so that I could change carriages.
Low and behold, the train rattled on. But the conductor and conductoress came along and between us we worked out that I was an idiot and on the wrong bit of the train, and that they had they key, and that they could release me in to the arms of the Ukrainian train-folk. Who were looking after my bed. Incredibly they were able to perform the operation and I then trecked down seven corridor carriages to mine. Mine was the only second class (they were all third) carriage so was at the head of the train. And each carriage had an 'owner' - an attendant who needed to scrutinise my non-Cyrillic ticket for authority to traverse their territory.
I have a reluctance to iPod in situations where I'm 'vulnerable'. Is that the right word? I don't often walk down the street doing it. I didn't feel like wiling away the hours at Wschodnia doing it either. But I did stand on the platform in my hat and gloves and read. But it took hours after I got on the train for my left hand to warm up.
Eventually the train turned up, late but not too bad. 20 minutes.
Now, the carriages have numbers on them and I knew my carriage number. But it all happens so fast... You're disorientated, cold, hungry, sober and desperate. I ran down the train shouting 'FIVE'. Someone pointed all the way down the end of the train. I DID see the sleeper bits of the train and did wonder I why I was running away from them... but I KNOW that trains have corridors, and getting on the wrong bit isn't a big deal. So I just got on. The wrong bit. A Polish, red, passenger carriage. Empty. As soon as I got on, I realized my mistake and engaged the Polish guard in conversation detailing my plight. He indicated I think that I needed to get off 'his' carriage and get onto the sleeper part of the train. I asked how I was going to do this while the train was moving and he made a hand-gesture that was lost on me seeing as I didn't have a Polish phrase-book.
Anyway, I was oK as the train had a corridor. So I walked down to the join. There was a door and it was locked. BUT, there was someone on the other side. So I gesticulated to indicate that I wanted to be ob his side of the door. He understood this perfectly and had obviously seen many a traveler try and 'upgrade' in this fashion before. So he gave me a wry wink and disappeared. Fuck.
No worries. I still had the Universal Dinner Lady on my side [Google 'barefoot doctor'] (I called her up many many times on this trip). I explained that the driver wanted to, needed to, and had to, stop the fucking train so that I could change carriages.
Low and behold, the train rattled on. But the conductor and conductoress came along and between us we worked out that I was an idiot and on the wrong bit of the train, and that they had they key, and that they could release me in to the arms of the Ukrainian train-folk. Who were looking after my bed. Incredibly they were able to perform the operation and I then trecked down seven corridor carriages to mine. Mine was the only second class (they were all third) carriage so was at the head of the train. And each carriage had an 'owner' - an attendant who needed to scrutinise my non-Cyrillic ticket for authority to traverse their territory.
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