Well, the train ride is coming to a close. Three nights and 2 ½ days. After the first 12 hours, I had the whole, 4-person cabin to myself. Not so conducive to friend-making. But very good for writing, sleeping and avoiding vodka excess. Generally, the train ride is about camaraderie and sharing. I still have my chocolates (well, those I managed not to eat) and the can of sardines Jude gave me as a parting gift. I can’t say I’m disappointed. I suppose the whole journey will be like this: no longer marveling in the newness of this sort of adventure, I have returned to sort of wrap things up. I doubt this means I will retire to my cat and garden, just taking day skis and after-work hikes. Itslike my bike ride last summer, b soetween Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. I enjoyed it. Yet there was something lacking. It was no longer exciting to stay the night with local families. Sure it was another glimpse into a slice of humanity. But then what? Things are only new and marvel-ous initially. Everything can be a drug. Once acclimated, more is required. I’m not sure what the more is. Maybe by the end of this trip I will come to understand.
There’s a certain nervousness I feel, sitting in my cabin for these last 45 minutes. I had a restless, thought-filled sleep. I couldn’t eat my breakfast. I am all packed. I have a plan. But now it’s time to face the music. I’ve spent a full week getting to this point, and of course, I’m still not there yet.
Shortly I will arrive in Barnaul. I will change my clocks from Moscow time and push the arrow three hours ahead to local time. I guess it’s as if I’ve traveled from Boston to Seattle- on the train! I am arriving to a cloudless sky. Time to dig out the sunscreen.
My morning task is to go to the train station ticket window, and sort through the options of getting bak to Khabarovsk 6 weeks from now. It’s hardly enough time. The trade off for leaving so late was more time with my students and more money in my pocket. Still, it’s a pity to feel so rushed. At least it helps me prioritize my time.
Once the logistics are sorted, I have to shlep my humongous suitcase, overly heavy day pack, single pannier and large plastic bag containing my front wheel to a bus stop and get myself to Biysk, about 2 ½ hours and 10 dollars down the road. From there, a local transport called a mashrutka (hear the word ‘route” in the middle?) to the town hotel. Do I go left to the “Central Hotel-” which could be more expensive but more convenient, or right to the “Flower Hotel” which might be cheaper? Maybe someone on the bus will know. My cabin conductor is from Biysk. She at least told me about the hotels and which mashrutka I needed. Too bad I didn’t make friends and get an invitation to cmp in her yard. The day is young.
I took both third class (platskartny...) and first class/tourist trains across Siberia, and by *far* preferred the former. Friendly families and students, sharing boiled potatoes, tea, smoked fish, playing cards, and chatting all the way, for more than a week. Yes we had bunks three high, but it didn't matter. It was a wonderful social experience. Anyway, if you end up on the train again, and have the choice. ;) Good luck!
ReplyDelete