2009 07 25-26 – Days 29-30 - Train to Aralsk
I was glad to be the first to find my compartment and claim a space for my rucksack, especially 5 minutes later when I was joined by an entire family of six! Given that the compartment was only designed for four, I was somewhat relieved to realise that the four children and father were actually sending off their gran and she would be the only one of their group joining me. Granny Goldie, as I mentally knew her on account of her gold teeth, was a dumpy lady approximately late 60s carrying a permanently dour expression... she didn't seem to be too impressed with my existence. Shortly after the whirlwind that were her descendents deposited her on her berth, the two upper berths of our compartment were claimed by two rugged men of the earth in their late fourties – real characters who appeared to be returning home from work in Moscow, seemingly travelling independently but immediately bonding in anticipation of their shared travelling space. All three of my room-mates seemed nonplussed by my presence, particularly after the subtleties of their questions in Russian rebounded off my mirror of incomprehention. I smiled politely and tried my best to understand, but for the most part I was reduced to shrugging and looking blank. Clearly their English was as good as my Russian. Once that was sorted out, they felt satisfied enough accepting I was there, but otherwise ignoring me... and soon enough we all retired for the night.
My bed at night and shared seat in the day and corridor of our car.
The toilet – more old and worn than dirty, but dirtier than this picture communicates and dirtier than most of us used to modern facilities would like.
Washing in this space was interesting.
Dawn. There's definitely something special about the world rolling by as you fall asleep and that still being the case when you wake. Writing my diary and watching the world go by, I had a strong sense of contentment, of being in the right place at the right time, of everything being as it should be.
The train makes a stop every few hours, each between 5 and 25 minutes, providing opportunities for passengers to stretch their legs and purchase food and drink from locals on the platform. As the day heats up, a popular purchase is a frozen bottle of water which provides a steady supply of cold water as the iceblock within gradually melts. The day gets so hot that melting seems to be the most natural activity, and as my body dissolves in its own puddle of sweat, my brain melts with the banality of never-ending synth-orchestra instrumental reworkings of classic pop and rock tunes oozing from unseen speakers. The searing sun burns the Russian landscape onto my retina.
