Aralsk-Tashkent Train

2009 07 29-30 – Days 33-34 - Aralsk-Tashkent train

Having made the train with only seconds to spare, I had to walk through eight coaches to find mine. Those coaches I passed through were clearly one step down from my class on the Moscow-Aralsk train, with no compartments, no air conditioning and six berths in the same space as four... it was hot and cramped and I felt pretty awkward bundling my way through with my big rucksack.
As soon as I found my more comfortable compartment, I was immediately relocated to an available berth elsewhere in the carriage after the policeman holding a private dinner party in my original compartment had a word with the carriage guard. Settling in to my unofficial berth, sharing the compartment with a young mother and her one-year-old, the carriage guard comes and asks me for 200 Rubles for the bedsheets.... I didn't know anything of this charge I protest! It doesn't mention such a thing on my ticket I claim (not totally sure as it's in Russian) and I didn't have to pay such a fee on the Moscow-Aralsk train... He doesn't entirely understand and I'm in no hurry to give way to the charge which sounds a bit fishy... I'm not sure he won't pocket the money. He disappears for a short while and returns with a translator – fellow passenger 16 year old Julia. Now able to communicate, it becomes clear that other passengers have paid this charge... but that doesn't change my position of disappointment at hidden charges.... surprisingly the guard concedes that he can accept, instead of payment and to cover the shortfall in his accounts, a letter outlining why I refused to pay! After some consideration of the possibility that writing such a letter would create more problems than would be worth the money it saved, I decided to do it on principle, since I had the option.


Julia with my statement and her translation.

While the bedsheets charge was being addressed, the policeman whose compartment I was supposed to share arrived at the doorway and inquires, through Julia, why am I traveling alone? Who will help me if something goes wrong? I reply, through Julia, that I don't know, that I'll deal with problems when they occur and I'm sure local people will help me. His response is a grunt that sets him in motion back to his compartment. Was he indirectly threatening me? I ask Julia... she thinks he was just drunk.


Curious and charismatic fellow passenger Ruslan (left) invites himself into my compartment and, requisitioning my Russian phrasebook, leafs through for a word he probably won't find to help his enthusiastic questioning. Intoxicated policeman (right) interrupts for a brief while, asking the same questions as before and insisting I take his photo.
Ruslan and I get on quite well and share some beers at the next station stop and spend much of the rest of the afternoon in entertaining banter with some assistance from Julia, her Mum, Ruslan's friend and my Russian phrasebook.

The second day on a train seems to be when all the locals really want to get to know you and I spent the last hour or two before Tashkent being quizzed by these friendly locals on what seem to be the standard topics – Where am I from? Why am I traveling alone? Where's my wife? Why aren't I married? Apparently I should find myself a nice Uzbek girl...